#and then the ghosts get mad at him so they open all the drawers and cupboards in his vicinity

[clonememesfrikyeah]

*Gives Rex a cursed amulet that only speaks in an ancient elderich tongue and gives him strange dreams about a sea cave, makes him hear distant whispers, see disembodied apparitions and have visions of a moss covered bog forest*

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

[lisenberry]

141 when they find out reader has been crying:

(an earlier brain worm had me expanding this to all of them)

Price: He pulls you into his office and shuts the door. It barely closes before he turns on you, crossing his arms and looking down with his chin tucked against his chest. He rocks back on his heels once, twice, while he waits for you to spill.

You can only blink up at him, willing your tears not to fall while he's watching you so intently.

"What is it, sir?" You finally chance the use of your voice, but instantly regret it. Your miserable croak isn't hiding anything.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me why you've been crying." His tone is gruff, like sandpaper over rock salt, but his eyes soften imploringly.

For a minute, you want to tell him everything, but instead you just give in and cry harder. For a moment, he looks disappointed, but he simply pats you awkwardly on your shoulder and grabs a box of tissues from his desk drawer.

He motions to the sofa in the corner where you sob quietly for a half hour more while he finishes his paperwork. He doesn't know what's going on, but he's not going to let you do it alone.

Ghost: It doesn't matter where you hide, he finds you. The kitchen? He's in and out three times. Tea, a spoon for his tea, another tea. He crowds your space each time, no matter where you stand. Forcing you in circles as you try to keep your face averted.

For a silent man, he manages to make as much noise as possible to distract you to the point of almost asking him, "What the fuck, Simon?"

You finally move to a bathroom stall, but before long you hear the door open and two large boots stop just beyond the door. You know it's him by the size alone.

You hold your breath for a beat, and then two, so long that you wonder who is going to give in first. You know you've got about 3 minutes before you pass out. But just as you're about to stand up and face him, he turns and leaves without a word.

Exactly ten minutes later, he finds you in the rec room, dragging someone by the neck. It's not until Ghost kicks the man's knees out from under him, forcing him to kneel in front of you that you realize who it is. Some asshole from the other team who was giving you a hard time in training this morning.

With Ghost's knee pressed painfully between his shoulder blades, he grits out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! It won't happen again!"

He's not the reason you're crying, but watching his face turn ten shades of purple does make you feel a little better.

Gaz: He keeps his distance and hates to see people cry because it always makes him cry, too. He doesn't know why. Movies, talk shows, commercials, they just get him right in the feels.

But every time you look up, his golden eyes meet yours, glistening with empathy. You simply shake your head at him and go about your day, until eventually, you get a text.

You mad at me?

-No, I'm fine.

You sure?

-Yep.

Fucking xxxx again, innit?

Of course he'd be the one to guess right. He paid the most attention, listened when you talked and remembered every detail. To be honest, he'd been the one you confided in the most for that reason.

He took your silence as a confirmation.

I hid some ice cream in the freezer. Unless Soap got to it first.

Soap: You head back to the kitchen again in search of the contraband ice cream, hoping it's the good mocha chip flavor you love, only to find Soap has beaten you to it. He innocently scoops out the last bite before seeing your face crumble and guiltily tosses it into the sink.

"Och, shit. Was that yours?"

"No, it's okay." Could this get any worse?

After dealing with these four, you just give up and slink back to your room.

"You know what you need?" He charges you before you can get any further.

"No, Johnny, don't!" Not one to listen, he pulls you up over his shoulder in one swoop and fireman carries you out to the gym.

"We're going to sweat it out, yeah? Always makes me feel better. Whether it's fighting or fucking is up to you."

You finally laugh at the absurdity of it, for the first time all day.

[anantaru]

What would be genshin men(of ur choice) reactions when you leave them hard and desperate?

Also love ur work💗

including. wriothesley, ayato

cw. you leave them hard and desperate, lots of teasing, dry humping, needy & dom genshin men, fem! reader

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

from your yielding touches to the pliant bends of your hand palming wriothesley's bulge, he finds himself leaning back into the pillows with one arm lazily concealing his flushed expression. the room felt hot and sticky too, and with each never-ending squeeze of your palm stroking his clothed cock, he throbs in your hand.

for some reason, watching wriothesley slowly falling apart because of you was surely addictive, consuming as it had no grounds being that attractive, that desirable— in fact, his pants were still on, only his belt had been unbuckled to somehow soften the harshness of his shaft straining against the rough material.

"fuck— you always know how to get me real good," wriothesley huffs out with a messy grin, mumbling the unspoken words of love in every moan as his breath hitches and falls into his words.

you lean your face into his neck to smear a couple wet kisses on the skin, "’just need you baby, can't take it like that forever,"

your warmth on his neck was setting his loins on fire, and your eyes following his every twitch and turn was purely mesmerizing as wriothesley began to hump your palm, repeatedly bottoming into your hand as you nibble on his jaw— the lewdest, most desperate faces manifesting on your boyfriends handsome features, "i want you s-so badly," he groans, barely, before you slope your lips from his jaw to the shell of his ear.

"ahh, that was fun!"

you giggle apathetically, "gotta go now baby, see you later," and stop your movements, stilling your hand before pulling it off his groin and by that point, wriothesley could barely breathe evenly nor keep his eyes open for a longer period of time, although now he looks at you in disbelief as you move from the bed towards the drawer to grab your stuff.

"huh, fuck— w-what?" he hisses, the pain in his groin aching,

"babe? wait, babe."

you sigh innocently and lick your lips, "yes?"

wriothesley can tell now, finally, understand what this was all about and no, he wasn't mad or anything, not at all, despite his pulsing cock still being hard and erected, he found himself plotting his revenge already.

the man smirks, and it sends a sudden shiver down your spine as he moves from the bed towards your pretty frame, silently cradling your cheek in his palm and stroking the flesh with his thumb,

"going to get you back for that one thousand times worse, you understand?"

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

"you like playing with fire, i see," ayato murmurs softly as you grind your clothed pussy against his throbbing member— his arms tightly enclosing your waist as you're comfortably settled on his lap, slowly watching the strings of his strong, powerful demeanor trail apart.

"y-yes," you whine, "i need you so badly, please," pseudo innocently pretending to be at his full mercy as you sob into his neck, your hips gradually picking up on pace as ayato moves you back and forth his straining erection,

he smiles with a firm nod of approval, "do you think you can handle more of this?" ayato asks, pursing his lips together when you roll into him particularly hard— and it felt so good when you angled your pussy into him in that candid way, evidently noticing it inflict something deep on his frame as his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

"of course," you mewl out, drool escaping past your lips, "i can go as long as you want, baby, pinky promise," your words and affirmations catch his muscles within a tremble.

jocularly, the man smirks, squeezing the fat of your ass before making it jiggle underneath his large palms, "i am delighted you feel that way, sweetheart,"

ayato shudders as the tips of your fingers scratch down on his scalp when you push his gaze towards your own, your plump lips ghosting over his jaw as it makes his cock throb.

the yashiro commissioner was so mindless now, piece by piece succumbing to the strapping pleasure as he breathes deep into his chest, his shuddering hands clawing into the flesh of your hips to keep you steady on his shaft.

by now, you can evidently tell his thudding groin has made an entire mess of his boxers, his pre cum smeared everywhere, it's just so filthy and delicious at the same time— in essence, to turn such a commanding, powerful man into something like this was fueling your ego to a much surpassing extent.

you will probably never get over this.

"archons, ayato, you're so nasty, baby," you coo at him, before smiling, "but that's fine, you see, i'll just finish this up later, okay?" you swiftly swathe away his arms and push yourself off his lap as the man shudders from the sudden loss of your heat on his cock.

"hold on, wait," ayato gawks at you, his jaw practically on the floor as he cups his groin and pushes down to maneuver away the sticking garment from his cock, hissing out— and you're hearing how desperate and needy your boyfriend was by just how filthy he reacted to rubbing his own shaft, almost unable to stop,

"w-what's the meaning of this?"

"you see, i am late for work," you claim and put on your jacket— and in obvious truth, you weren't late at all and ayato knew that as well, he wasn't stupid, you were probably going to arrive there a lot earlier now,

"not this again," ayato sighs, "how did you make me fall for this a second time?" he swipes his tongue against his lips as he realizes that you managed to use him like a marionette, and you adore being his puppet master, just yearned to amuse yourself with those cunning charms on him.

"but i'll see you later?" you ask without airs, eyeing the exit before ayato grabs a hold of your wrist, daintily moving you back on his lap.

"easy now," he whispers before tapping his lips once, twice, with his pointer finger, reminding you that you had forgotten to give him a goodbye kiss.

he grumbles, "you can't just go like that, without properly saying goodbye," the man continues, sassy nuances in his tone, "you will definitely see me later, love,"

your legs writhe a little from the situation he had you in— and seeing your boyfriend like this, despite his facial expression still being bathed in bliss, he never let go off his dominance that it was almost enough for you to give in.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 4 of November Paramedic; part 3 is here and the AO3 version is here.)

Eddie wakes on the following Saturday with an itch beneath his skin. It's been there for days now. Warm and at times aching; an inflammation.

He hasn't seen Steve again. He's been thinking of him and talking about him (or rather listened to Gareth talk about him – he's not convinced Gareth doesn't want to fuck him). But he hasn't talked to him. He could rectify that by asking Max for his number, but that'd mean facing her little freckled self-satisfaction. He's not that desperate (yet).

The bedroom is blue with mid-morning light. Outside the window, some poor bastards drive to their weekend shifts. Technically, Eddie is one of them, but he doesn't start until the afternoon, so he's taking his time yawning and stretching out of his sleep-rumpledness. The cover has pooled around his waist and his t-shirt is rucked up; he scratches the exposed skin, the itch deepening as his fingertips ghost the area above his dick.

He slides his hand down and cups himself. The first caress over his boxers punches a sigh out of him.

The calendar is in the porn drawer, but Eddie doesn't need to have it in front of him – he knows every pixel better than the furrows on Uncle Wayne's face (ew, he shouldn't think of Wayne when palming himself, ewewewewew!). Even if he wasn't so familiar with the photo, he'd be okay. After all, he's sat opposite the subject. He's seen him up close and in four dimensions. Watched him lick salt from his fingers and wrap his lips around paper straws.

The itch now burning, he lunges for the near-empty lube bottle on the nightstand and delves his hands into his shorts. Shifting so the cockhead pokes out of the waistline, he starts stroking in earnest.

He likes to go slower, stop and start and prolong it, but this time it's like a fucking race. He grips the shaft, twists, squeezes the head, pulls, while his other hand rubs his balls. Sweat beads on Eddie's face as his breathing speeds up. He needs to calm down or he'll finish before he's even started.

It's hard, though, especially as the image of Steve is solidifying at the foot of the bed. Kneeling, legs spread, Eddie's thighs resting on top of his. He's wearing the paramedic uniform, zipper down and shirt open, sliding off his shoulders. And he's smiling like that, a hungry glint in his eyes.

Fuck, what would Steve be like in bed? Would he take charge or be passive? Would he be flexible? Does he like giving oral? A guy who looks like that must be getting laid constantly; he has to be good with his mouth. And his hands, they're big, surely big enough to envelop Eddie's around his cock. Eddie prods at his taint, imagining his fingers were longer and thicker as the flats of his knuckles rub through to the muscle. The pressure is building, the tingling lighting up in his chest and legs.

Would Steve let Eddie restrain him? Tie him to the headboard, hook his knees over Eddie's shoulders, and fold him in half? Or would he prefer to hold Eddie down… push him into the mattress, palm splayed between his shoulder blades, and open him until he begged to be fucked. Then he'd spread Eddie's thighs, split him in half on that cock and pound until he screamed-

Eddie screams, hips lifting off the bed. Sizzling waves of pleasure roll over him, leaving him spasming. It came faster than preferred, but fuck it, he's too spent to be mad about it. He should have expected it anyway – November-paramedic always does this to him.

November-paramedic. Steve. Steve could do it to him, too. 'If he was straight, Max would've said so', right? The only thing to worry about then is if Eddie is his type.

(Catching himself in the bathroom mirror, blotchy and shaggy and with spunk on his shirt, he can't see himself being anyone's type.)

Someone knocks on his front door as he prepares to step into the shower. He's not expecting anyone, so he ignores it, stripping and tossing his dirty clothes in the hamper while waiting for the water to get warm.

The knocker doesn't relent. They get louder. Frantic. Shit, maybe it's someone in trouble?

When they bang hard enough to break through the door, he turns the water off and rushes out. Stopping only to grab his sweatpants from the couch, tugging them on as he walks, he reaches the door and yanks it open and

stops dead in his tracks.

There's no emergency. No serial killer running amok and no fire, unless one counts Max's flame orange hair. It's in twin braids today, and she's wearing loose gym shorts and a tank top. She has a tote bag on her shoulder and a smile on her face, but nary a sign of distress.

He slumps against the doorjamb, glaring at her. "What."

"Do you play basketball?" she asks.

"Does it look like I play basketball?"

He gestures to his lanky, shirtless frame. She gives him an unimpressed once-over. Exactly. He's about to ask if she's filled her quota for inane questions this fine morning when she looks at him with unscrupulous eyes.

"Steve and Lucas like to play at the park. I'm not as good as them, but it's pretty fun so I join in. They're competitive and go really hard. Gets sweaty. And they always wear these tiny basketball shorts-"

"Okay, so?" he says, interrupting before the picture gets too detailed and the blush reaches farther down his chest. He crosses his arms even though he knows it won't hide anything.

Max rolls not just her eyes, but her entire head. "I'm throwing you a bone here, dumbass! Do you want to join or not?"

"Why would I want to join?"

Her reply is a mere look, but the 'are you fucking kidding me' is louder than her voice could ever be. His hands, needing something to do, begin rubbing his upper arms.

"What do you get out of this?" he asks. Because he can't think of anything. Is it simply out of the goodness of her heart?

"Meddling in your love life is the closest I'll ever get to becoming God." (Ah. Egomania. Of course.) "So?"

Eddie sighs. On the one hand, there's Steve, panting and sweating while wearing short shorts. On the other hand…

Yeah, no, there's no discussion here.

"Yeah, I'm in."

"Great. We have," she looks at her phone, "fifteen minutes until they're here."

"Fifteen minutes? Max, I haven't showered yet!"

Seventeen minutes, one change of clothes, four spritzes of body spray, and half a can of dry shampoo later, they're sliding into the backseat of Steve’s ludicrously expensive car. Eddie had been skeptical about the dry shampoo – he didn't use fancy products for his hair, didn't need them. Plain regular shampoo and conditioner were good enough, thank you very much. He'd rather it be stringy with natural grease than artificially stiffened. But Max swore by it; after covering his scalp with the dandruffesque stuff and combing it out, he has to admit it looks and feels fine. The breezy smell isn't terrible, either. He might ask her where she bought it.

"Hey, guys," Steve says, already putting the car in gear. "S'great that you wanted to join, Eddie!"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie, who was going to apologize for springing his appearance on them, says. But neither Steve nor Lucas seem surprised he's there? He shoots Max a look. She ignores him as she's rapidly texting. "This isn't really my thing, but it'll be fun?"

"We won't go all out," Lucas says. "Max doesn't play either, so we know how to take it easy."

"Mmm, yeah, they're both okay teachers…" Max says, distracted, like she's barely paying attention to the conversation. "Lucas usually helps me, so you and Steve can have each other."

"I'll be here if you need me," Steve says, flashing a front cover-worthy smile in the rear-view mirror.

Eddie just laughs weakly, already out of breath. They've hit traffic now, and masked by the thrum of tires and Steppenwolf playing on the radio, he leans over to Max's side to whisper:

"Stay out. Of my. Love life."

She raises a brow. "You mean the love life that wouldn't exist without me?"

"It would exist."

"No, it wouldn't."

"It would."

"No, you're hopeless. Have you even been on a date before?"

"Yes, I have!"

"Did Gareth ask the guy out for you?"

"No!"

Sure, there had been this one time at a party when Gareth drunkenly announced to a guy that Eddie had been checking him out the entire evening. But that's the closest either of them has ever come to asking someone out for the other. And it doesn't count anyway because it didn't lead to a date, just a mediocre makeout session. The other guy's personality turned out to be the equivalent of a toolbox full of dicks, and he wasn't hot enough to make up for it. However unbelievable it may seem, Eddie does have standards.

Max sighs, powering down her phone and slipping it into her tote. "If I asked you in advance, you'd have the time to get cold feet and cancel."

"I wouldn't've done that."

"I wasn't risking it." Her lips curl with distaste. "Steve always gets so pouty and puppy-eyed when he's disappointed. It's gross."

"Me canceling wouldn't disappoint him!"

She gives him a long look. Pitying, like she thinks he's so stupid he can't even realize how stupid he is and is sad on his behalf. "I think I'm better at judging whether or not it would."

The park they stop at is nice and big but otherwise nondescript. A dozen or so other visitors are scattered around the area, most of them walking their dogs (or in one case, cat). The adjacent basketball court is empty, however. Unsurprising given the early hour, and also relieving – the fewer people who witness this, the better. Because Eddie really doesn't play basketball. Sports, in general, is incomprehensible to him. How do you do it? Why is it 'fun'? He doesn't get any of it, thus has accepted he'll make a bit of a fool of himself today.

Except he doesn't. Not as much as he thought, at least. Steve and Lucas are both so nice and enthusiastic about it, explaining and demonstrating and explaining again. They're not playing sports, per se; more like playing games that involve basketballs and sometimes hoops. They run, dribble, shoot, steal the ball from each other, try to catch one another, all without keeping score or declaring winners. They just… play. Carefree, like children.

If high school PE had been anything like this, Eddie would've passed on the first try.

It's still exacting. After two hours (hours!) of playing, Eddie is feeling it in his legs and lungs. It's good, though, the sting and the burn. He's slick with sweat and his hair is frizzing out of its tie, but he's accomplished something. When the muscle cramps hit later on, he'll be happy about it for once.

He's still quick to agree when a rosy-cheeked Max suggests they take a break. Sitting on the edge of the court, sharing the water she brought, they watch as Steve and Lucas play for real. And it's, wow. Poetry in motion. Eddie knows nothing about basketball, but he has to assume they're both good. By his analysis, whatever it's worth, Lucas has more natural aptitude but Steve has the experience, at times pulling feints that stump Lucas. This conclusion is vindicated when they at several points stop so Steve can coach Lucas through the maneuvers.

They're both impressive. Mesmerizing. When they first arrived, seeing them step out of the car did a number on Eddie's poor, gay heart. Those shorts are short, and their jerseys display just enough arm and throat to tantalize. And now? When they're getting into it? Giving each other a run for their money, giving their all, until they glisten and their clothes stick to their skin?

No wonder Max likes to join them, the little pervert!

"Do you play basketball now?" Max asks, snapping him out of it.

He squints at her. "You're a voyeur, Mayfield."

"You're the one who's drooling."

"Am not," Eddie says and surreptitiously wipes his chin, just in case.

"Sure." Max pushes to her feet. "Hey, Lucas! You're supposed to help me with my throws."

Steve and Lucas, in a battle for the ball, break it off. Lucas beams at her.

"Yeah! Let's do it!"

Max and Steve switch places, Max grabbing the ball on the way to her spot in front of Lucas, and then Lucas' hands are all over her. On her shoulders, her elbows, her hips, correcting her grip and her stance. She's smiling like a cat with a canary dipped in cream, pressing her back to his chest. He's basically embracing her, and by the time she shoots they've melted together.

Jesus. How can these children be bolder and smoother than Eddie ever has?

"Cute, aren't they?" Steve says between sips from his water bottle.

"Yeah. What's their deal?"

"They used to date. Shit went down and now it's complicated." A bit of water dribbles out the corner of Steve's mouth after an especially sloppy swig. Eddie's stomach is one big butterfly. "I think they belong together. Just need to find each other again first."

And then it happens: Steve offers Eddie the bottle. His breath hitches; he accepts it with a trembling hand. Raises it to his mouth and puts his lips where Steve just put his lips. Hoooooooly shit. There's a metal festival going on inside his ribcage, his pulse like a bass drum in his ears. Beat a little faster and he'll risk cardiac arrest. 'Death by indirect kiss' has a kinda romantic ring to it.

He swallows and asks at a higher frequency than usual, "You known her for long?"

"She was thirteen," Steve says, too busy staring wistfully at the kids to notice Eddie's newfound resemblance to a dog toy.

"Jesus."

"Yeah."

Eddie rolls the bottle between his palms. Maybe he can smuggle it away when Steve isn't looking. Take it home and cherish it forever. Never pour the water out or wash it. Put it on a pedestal and give it a plaque that said 'I have Steve Harrington's spit in me' and be envious whenever he read it.

(Christ, he's a creep.)

"How did you get to know them?" he asks, giving it back. He doesn't trust himself with it.

Steve drinks again, so now they've both gotten a taste of each other. Cool! Third base, or whatever. "I was kind of their babysitter."

"Really?"

"Yeah. No. They were too old for babysitters, it was more like… giving them rides. Being there when they…" Shaking his head, he fully turns to Eddie. His face is dead serious business. "Like, these kids are nerds. Or just troubled. Or both. It was hard sometimes, so they needed someone."

"And that was you?"

"Not always. Remember Nancy and Jonathan? They're Mike and Will's older siblings, respectively. They did much more. But, y’know… Nancy and Jon have ambitions. They're going places. They've been in those places, and now they have new ones!" He smiles, sweet but with a hint of bitterness. "They were busy. So I filled the gaps. Also, not everything was… Like, Nancy is the toughest, strongest person I know. But she's also a bookish, 5'4 girl. She couldn't break up brawls or scare off bullies. Not permanently at least. And Jonathan, he packs a punch when he wants to. You won't think so when you see him, but he does. But he still needs to get into the fight. I don't. I could just show up and people would leave. Because I'm bigger and, uh, my reputation kinda precedes me."

"Really?" Eddie makes a show of looking Steve up and down. He's strong, anyone can see that, but he doesn't look like the type of guy who gets in that kind of trouble. "You got a rep as a fighter?"

He realizes too late how rude he's being. Fortunately, Steve just snorts good-humoredly.

"More like I got a rep as someone you can't win against. If someone said 'Steve Harrington beat us' I could say 'no' and that's it. Even with two black eyes, people would believe me. Jonathan, though? He could have an airtight alibi. Eyewitnesses, security footage, the works! But if he was accused, people would find a way to pin it on him."

As he speaks, Steve's voice gets louder, the words tumbling out. He sounds upset, like he knows what he says is indisputably true, but he's not yet used to knowing it. The fire he spits it out with must surprise him, because his eyes grow a size before he reels himself in. Kicking at the ground, he clears his throat.

"But, uh, it didn't happen often," he says. "S'not like we fought every week. Mostly it was stuff like him dropping them off at the arcade and me picking them up. Or I let the kids use my pool for their birthday parties and their families had me over for the holidays when- if my parents weren't in town. That stuff. Just helping each other out."

He looks at Eddie, his smile tight at the corners, but shrugging like it truly isn't a big deal. Just helping out. Just being kind. Because these people, these kids, mean something to him, so how couldn't he be good to them?

Eddie's head is spinning. He recognizes that 'being a paramedic' and 'caring about people' typically go hand in hand, and he shouldn't be left in a fucking daze over the revelation that Steve is nice to his friends. Yet. The confirmation has turned him into a bubble floating in the wind.

"You wanna go again or get something to eat or…?" Steve asks, popping the moment. Eddie blinks the shimmer off his retinas.

"I haven't eaten yet, so I'm starving."

"You haven't eaten at all?"

"Uh, no? I woke up and, um, I- I mean, and then, Max was there and she kinda sprung this on me fifteen minutes before you arrived?"

Steve stares at him. Eddie stares back. The basketball thumps against the asphalt. Steve's expression screws into annoyance.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand down his face. "I'm so sorry."

"What?"

"You didn't… If you didn't want to come today-"

"No! No, I did, it's been fun!"

"Really? Because they keep doing this. Trying to set me up."

Eddie chokes on his saliva. "S-set up?"

Steve nods, rolling his eyes. "They think I don’t have enough friends my age. Which I do! Not many close friends, but I don't need any! I have Robin." His face gains a pink tint. "Um, but that doesn't mean I don't want to get to know you better. I do."

"Cool," Eddie says. The world is spinning again. "Me too."

"Well." Coughing loudly, Steve waves to catch the kids' attention. "Let's get something to eat."

The remainder of their time together passes in a leisurely blur that Eddie watches from the sidelines. Not as in he doesn't engage with the others, but as in he engages with them on autopilot while his actual consciousness hangs around like an apparition. They get tacos from a food truck and ice cream as dessert, courtesy of Lucas who talks Steve into it. Something about Steve owing his little sister, but since she isn't there he should buy for Lucas instead, or something. Despite his grumbling, Steve doesn't seem too perturbed about paying.

It's a little past one o'clock when Steve drops them off, saying they should do it again before driving off. Max smirks at him as they reach their apartments, saying 'you're welcome' and tossing her braid over her shoulder. Eddie flips her the bird, which she doesn't see since her door is already closing.

The first thing Eddie does after stomping inside is collapse face-first on the couch. The second thing is groan into the cushions as he remembers he still has work this afternoon.

"Dude," Gareth says later that same evening. Half-filled character sheets and messy notebook scraps are spread before him on the kitchen table, where he's finishing the description of his character so Eddie can sketch it. "You went on a date."

Frowning, Eddie stirs the pancake batter harder. It's all mixed, but the stove is from circa 1860 and takes forever to heat up.

"No we didn't," he says. "Max and Lucas were there too."

"Dude, you went on a double date."

"It wasn't a date! I'd notice if it was."

"He said he wanted to get to know you better!"

"As a friend."

Gareth sighs, tapping his pen on the table and leaving ink stains behind. "He's a guy. Guys don't say 'I want to get to know you better' when making friends. That's flirty talk."

"It's… not," Eddie says, unsure. It's not, right?

Gareth plants his chin in his palm, fondly shaking his head. "This guy is into you. I'll make you see it. Just wait."

Eddie doesn't know if he should interpret it as a promise or a threat.

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

Part 5

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll

[skellyflowers]

Heartbeat

I didn’t even see Phantom coming. One moment I was talking with my friend, the next my world was literally turned upside-down. Phantom is pretty sneaking but normally he will announce himself. So when I found myself thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, I was really caught off guard.

“PHANTOM!” I finally said when I recovered.

“Hi Angel.” He answers, wagging his tail.

“I was talking to my friend.”

“And now you're not.”

I wanted to stay mad at him, but I really missed him. Phantom had been busy for the last 2 weeks with things for Ghost. I know how important touring is to him so I tried not to complain. But I would be lying if I said I hadn't missed him.

In no time at all we end up in the ghoul den. Some of the ghouls watching as I am carried to Phantom's room. He kicked in the door and tossed me on his bed. He closed the door and then started to rummage through his drawers. He eventually pulled out an old Ghost t-shirt and threw it on the bed.

He then walked to stand in front of me and held out his hand. When I grab it he gently pulls to him. He puts our foreheads together and I hear his purring rattle around in my head. His hands cup my face as his thumbs rub my cheeks. He then slides his hands down and starts to unbutton my uniform.

After undressing me he puts the band shirt on me and pushes me back on the bed. Phantom then undressed himself until he was in his boxers. He then pushed my legs open and laid down on my chest. Cuddling is not where I thought this night would go, not that I’m complaining. I put my hands in his hair and was immediately met with more purring.

After a few minutes Phantom lifted his head to rest his chin on my chest. Between his horns I could see his tail wagging back and forth. I could see quintessence swirling in his eyes. It was hypnotizing. 

“I missed you Angel.” He said, breaking the silence.

“I missed you too, Bug.” I responded. Somehow his purring got even louder.

“Sorry that I have been so busy. Papa really wants the performance for the Ministry anniversary to be perfect.”

“It’s ok. Pretty much everyone is working on the anniversary preparations.”

“I know but, I don’t like that practice runs so late.” He complains. “You are usually asleep when we get done and I don’t want to wake you up.”

“We can make up for lost time after.” Phantom’s tail is now loudly thumping against the mattress. Clearly he already has ideas.

“I love you Angel.” He says, laying his head back down on my chest.

“I love you too, Bug.”

Just before I fall asleep Phantom picks his head up once more.

“Do you think Papa will let me bring you on tour with us?”

[eris-snow]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

Tags: Izuku x gn!reader, angst, lots of angst, I was feeling angsty, implied bakudeku?, I want what they have.

Y/n sacrifices the memory of themself to save Izuku's life. Consequences, consequences

"Izuku?" You say. No one hears you, no one knows you. Then again, you've known that already.

Even still, you can't help but try.

It's the beginning of fall, the summer breeze fading away as leaves turn from green to pretty shades of red. The window is clear when you look inside. The house is empty, though, and you assume that he must be out for patrol.

Walking down the streets of Japan dulls your senses, bit by bit. It used to be the other way around when you were still around, your senses roared and your guard was high, but here, there is no need for that. Why was it necessary, when you're nothing but a ghost in this world?

Some people call it a blessing, you call it a curse. Fantastical, magical, even. But so, so cruel.

You love it, but you despise it.

You long for it, but you're repulsed by it.

But you've never once regretted what you've had to do.

Eyes searching, your footsteps echo with purpose. Just a touch of green, even a hair. You could find him in a crowd, your eyes draw to him like bees to a hive.

You just have to look.

Izuku?

He's there, of course. Always there, with his yellow scarf, and big green eyes. There with his pretty smile you'd fallen in love with and a heart of polished gold. He's so, so beautiful, scars and all.

You reach out, maybe if you call his name, he'll hear you.

"Izuku?" You try again.

His eyes don't waver, but he's not looking at you.

"Kacchan!" He says instead, as Katsuki swats him on the head. "Idiot, it's Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight when we're on the job, shit nerd!" Katsuki snarls.

You retract your hand, as both boys breeze past you. Of course they would, you're just a spectator, after all.

"I was thinking of having Katsudon-"

"No."

"But Kacchan-"

"NO YOU UNHEALTHY FUCK."

You smile, a little sadly, but are still grateful he's safe.

He looks so happy.

"You've meddled far too much in this story." The villain whispers. "Give it up, outsider. You weren't meant to be here."

It's true. It isn't right, for you to be here. It's not your place.

"But I still wanted you." You say, voice cracking.

Your feet stumble, one after another, as you weave through the crowd, following them silently.

Stalker, your mind whispers, freak. Get a life.

It's all you've ever learnt how to do, because you never did, have a life. Just play doll fantasies and isekai aspirations.

They do end up getting katsudon for dinner, even if Katsuki's mad about it. You've always known he's had a soft spot for Izuku. You've always known the competition you were against.

In the end, what you had with Izuku wasn't substantial. No matter how much you wanted it. It's like wearing an odd pair of socks. Even if it fits, both of you didn't match.

"Ah, shit." You whisper, feeling your vision blur, as you wipe your tears away, shaking your head. A lump settles in your pharynx.

No, no, this is right. This is correct.

This was how it was meant to be.

The tears don't stop coming. "Kacchan, stop! I promise, I'll do my paperwork next week. You never let up on organisation, Kacchan. Remember that one time when we were still children? You had a space for each toy box, a drawer for each category of game..."

You look up, and they aren't there anymore. Panicking, you spent about five minutes trying to find them when you realise them already making their way out of the restaurant.

"Ah, son of a turkey leg, it's raining," Katsuki complains, as Izuku chuckles at his side.

"Turkey leg?" He teases, opening up his umbrella.

A sob bubbles up your throat. A curse, a fucking curse this is.

"He'll forget all about you, and that's okay, isn't it? It was only when you came here did everything start going wrong. Don't tell me you thought this dream could last forever. Come on, didn't you say you wanted to be a hero?"

"Izuku," You whisper, voice broken and cracked. He doesn't hear you.

They walk, and you follow. Into the plunging rain, or flames of the underworld, or on the bloody battlefield or fire or hail, you follow because that's all you've ever known how to do. You follow, even though it hurts.

"How's that injury holding up?" Katsuki asks, checking his partner over. Izuku shakes his head. "I'm alright. Was sure a scare, though. I thought I wouldn't make it."

Everything is in place, as it was always meant to be.

The rain beats down on you mercilessly, and you feel cold. So, so cold. "Shut up, nerd. Of course you did."

You know you did the right thing because it stings so badly.

But I want that too.

You sniffle, as you see them, under their stupid umbrella with their stupid faces and stupid heart eyes.

I want it so bad.

Your hand is outstretched, and you watch your hand sink through his hand, eyes glossing all over.

Why can't I have what you two have?

At the heart of it, you're just a greedy child throwing a tantrum because things didn't go your way. Impulsive, self-absorbed, Living out a fantasy that ruins a carefully crafted story with characters real enough to fall for. Even so, as you see them, happy, the memory of you wiped from this world as you're left to wander as a ghost, you cower at how out of place you were no matter how much you tried to make yourself right at home.

"Izuku..." You whisper, as they turn away. The rain is pouring, and your sweater is soaked.

"Why can't I have a happy ending too?"

---

I watched some of Season 7, and a lot of edits

[captain-mj]

are you going to continue interview with the 141 or is it finished ? i just really love what we do in the shadows and seeing a fic with my faves was literally like unwrapping the best gift that you didn’t even know existed

Ngl I don't have an excuse, I just straight up forgot about this series... oops? Here's a smutty installment as an apology

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Ghost ran his fingers through Soap’s hair as they kissed. He didn’t think he could get enough. It was like a breath of air after so many years of not being able to breath.

Soap chased his lips, eyelashes fluttering. “Ghost…” He put his hands on his shoulder. “I’d stay with you. Far after when I turn. I promise.” 

Ghost cupped his face and leaned in to him. “One day, the color will be gone from your face. You’ll be forever the same. Your hair will grow slowly. Your body will never change. I’m sorry I’m selfish. I know I’m dragging this out.” He traced his cheekbones and then down to his collar. 

Soap softened. “Why? Like me like this?”

“I like you alive…” Ghost leaned in and kissed his neck gently, feeling his pulse. He sank his fangs into him. His arms tightened when Soap panicked for a moment before relaxing. Soap grabbed Ghost’s biceps and held him tight. 

Blood filled his mouth. It was delicious. Just as good as last time. He lapped at the bleeding wound until Soap shivered and shook. “Ghost…” 

Ghost pulled away and grabbed him, yanking him inside right as the sun’s rays hit the doorstep. 

Soap looked horrified. He quickly started to check Ghost out, running his hands over him to make sure he wasn’t burned anywhere. “I should’ve been more careful we had been out there talking for so long and I….”

“Johnny.” Ghost grabbed his chin and tilted his head so he’d be facing him. “It’s okay.”

Soap paused. His pale complexion mixed with the dark blood on his lips and the drip down his chin… It made him look like one of the vampires in the old movies. He bit his lip, helpless to his charms. 

Ghost smiled. “Do you have your necklace on?”

“No. I didn’t bother getting a new one.” Soap stepped closer. 

“Think you could fight us off?”

“You wouldn’t let them.” 

Ghost hated that it was true. He’d never kill his friends, but for Johnny? He would come close. 

“I don’t need to be turned right now.” Soap said softly. “But the longer you take to decide, the more I age. The more likely it is one day I’ll die. That scares me.”

“Dying?”

“Leaving you alone.” 

Ghost barely thought about it. He was kissing him again, more reverent. More desperate. “Johnny… Johnny…” He picked him up and put him on the counter. “A little more time. It’s all I need.” 

Soap tanged his fingers in Ghost’s hair, expecting another blowjob or maybe some fancy work with his hands. Ghost instead ripped his clothes off and laid him out. He paused only long enough to open a drawer Soap had never seen before and grabbing lube. “Ale and Rudy have these stashed everywhere in the house.” Ghost explained. 

Soap nodded and gripped the counter. “It’s been a while so go slow.”

“You have trouble getting dates?”

“Never have enough alone time. And they’re not really you, are they?”

Ghost was going to go mad. He hiked Soap’s leg up and used a liberal amount of lube. He pressed his lips to Soap’s ankle as he carefully worked him open. 

Soap gasped and groaned and whined. So wonderfully tight. It took him a while for Ghost to be able to slide a second finger in. “You’re doing beautifully, Love.” He mumbled and placed another kiss to his calf this time. “But you’re going to need to relax.”

“I am.” Soap whimpered out, adjusting his legs to try to spread them more. He groaned and his back arched as Ghost curled his fingers. It took more lube and a lot of patience but Ghost got him to take three, slowly curling and uncurling them before digging them in deeper. 

Soap’s head lolled back as he panted, eyes screwed shut. 

Ghost pulled back and carefully lined himself up. 

Every vice Ghost could think of didn’t hold a candle to Soap. He was so tight. So hot. It felt like he was melting into him. 

Soap let out a tiny sob as Ghost continued to push him. He tensed for a second before forcing himself to relax, body arching.

Ghost bottomed out, eyes staring at the ceiling. “Johnny. Why have you never convinced me to do this before?”

Soap looked indignant. “I tri-” Ghost thrust in, knocking the air out of him. He was slow, like promised, but with his size and how eager it was, it was still a lot. Johnny felt tears streaming down his face but it was too good for him to ask Ghost to stop. As he started to get more and more comfortable, Ghost would speed up until he found himself bent in half and being pounded into. 

Soap grabbed his shoulders and buried his face in his neck, sobbing. He came hard with only Ghost’s arms around him to keep him from shattering. His body tightened around Ghost until he heard a choked sound as he came inside Soap. 

Soap shivered from the sudden and Ghost scooped him up, whisking him away to his coffin. They fit surprisingly well. 

Interviewer: Did you cry?

Soap: Like a fucking baby.

[littlemissmarvelous]

Ruins

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

If you have any sort of triggers regarding SA or have PTSD DO NOT READ.

I went through something a few years ago and I’ve been plagued with it a lot recently and so I tried to write it out to relieve my PTSD.

Your skin felt grimy.

Bile was in your throat threatening to spill from your mouth.

Your heart lies within your stomach in pieces.

The trip home from the solo mission was full of you not facing the reality of the situation. What they did. Even at the thought of them, the tears sting your eyes and your chest is tight and all of a sudden you can feel every single forced touch.

You rushed to your room as soon as your jet landed, disarming and stripping yourself of your blood soaked clothes. You’re numb as you subconsciously drag yourself into the bathroom and turn on the tub to watch the hot water rise. Sinking into it, you feel your muscles relax but your insides are still a mess. Your eyes travel to your skin and it’s like their fingerprints are everywhere painting your skin.

next thing you know your skin is red and raw and you’re holding the loofah. you shudder as tears stream down your face silently.

you find your face in the mirror in front of you, a stranger stares right back.

Days blend together as you find yourself staying in your room rather than visiting with the team but you can’t seem to care if they noticed. You couldn’t find yourself caring about anything lately really. Steve noticed this and took you off missions to see if he could maybe get a reaction out of you. To his dismay, you simply shrugged and retreated right back to your room. Him and Nat shared concerned glances with each other and Bucky stared after you with concern. You hadn’t spoken much about the mission, just simply handed them the drive and muttered, “mission complete”.

The break from missions gave you even more time to fall deeper into the hole you were digging yourself and you were too tired to stop yourself. You were a stranger to yourself and now your friends. The eyes in the mirror were not your own, but the pain they held was all that was left of you. Your knives stayed in their sheaths, your books in the shelf, your pen and journal in their drawer. A ghost has began to reside where you once did as more and more of yourself died.

How many days had passed? was it weeks? you weren’t sure. it was all a blur as you walked mindlessly through the tower. Eyes fell upon you and you knew they were curious but you couldn’t open your mouth to explain why.

you weren’t ready yet.

would you ever be?

You’re making yourself coffee when he says your name.

“Y/n.” Steve says sternly.

Your grip tightens on your mug but you do not turn. “Yes Steve?”

“what is going on with you lately? what’s wrong with you?” He asks and you know he’s frustrated. You have to remind yourself he doesn’t know.

“i’m fine.” you simply reply and give your signature shrug.

This however made steve MAD.

“Fine?! You were barely training, your missions became sloppy, you haven’t been talking to any of your teammates! You could have gotten yourself or any one of us killed on those missions if you had gone, you weren’t even trying at training!”

you know he wants a rise out of you. you know he wants you to show that you care but you’re so numb that you simply stand their and take his rant. He was right. Nat is staring at you worried from the couch and Bucky finds himself gravitating towards you to comfort you.

“Seriously y/n, do you not even care? about us? about being an avenger? Maybe we made a mistake making you one of us. Maybe you don’t belong here.” Steve seethes.

The last straw inside you breaks.

“I was FUCKING RAPED STEVE! Is that what you wanted to hear?!” You explode and he stares at you in shock, eyes wide. “Did you want me to tell you how they forced themselves upon me and i can’t get the disgusting feeling of their hands off my skin? or how they cut my skin if I tried to fight back? Or maybe you wanted to hear how they loved when I screamed in pain until I was sobbing? Or MAYBE you wanted me to tell you how i can’t even fucking look in the mirror anymore without seeing how utterly broken I am. Is that it? is that enough of a fucking reaction that you wanted out of me?” Your chest is heaving and your cheeks are wet with tears, the room silent after your outburst.

It’s then you realize just how many people now know happened to you. You quickly turn to run out of the room, only to slam into Bucky.

“Doll i’m so-“he begins.

“just leave me ALONE!” you yell and let your feet carry you to your room where you immediately shut and lock the door before screaming your lungs out.

The truth was out. they knew how dirty you were. How disgraced and disgusting you felt. Broken. Useless.

Your scream echoed so loud you’re sure the whole compound could hear it.

There’s a knock at your door and you freeze. No no no, you weren’t ready for this yet. The pity was not something you wanted to experience right now.

“Y/N, it’s me, Nat.” Her voice travels through the door, “I know you might not want to talk to us but I just want you to listen to me for a little bit okay? can I come in?”

Your brain screamed at you to not let her in. Solitude will heal, it yelled. Nobody wants to hear about what happened. What were you supposed to say anyways? How weak you were? You couldn’t hear anyone tell you how this was your fault…it would surely break whatever you had left. You cover your mouth as a sob escapes your mouth and your heart clenches in pain.

“I can’t. I can’t.”

You hope she hears the whimpers because you can’t find it in you to speak anymore. Sinking down to the floor you let silent tears stream down your cheeks as you heard her steps take her body away from your door. You hated that you were pushing away your best friend but you couldn’t let anyone near you, get close to you. Not yet.

Two days later another knock at the door.

“Go away, please…” you call.

“Y/n? It’s Dr. Cho…I need to examine you, if that’s okay. I want to make sure you don’t have any lasting injuries from…the incident. It’s just me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath before dragging yourself to your door and opening it a crack. “You promise you’re alone?”

Helen nods with a warm small smile and you step to the side and open the door more to let her in, closing the door and locking it after she passes you.

She sets her medical back on your chair and looks around to see the best place to examine you and you’re suddenly aware your room was a catastrophe. You hang your head in embarrassment and apologize quickly, “I’m sorry for the mess Helen…it’s been a rough few days.”

She shakes her head and reassures you, “It’s okay, how about we clear off a space on the bed and set up there?”

You simply nod and quickly strip the bed of the excess mess so Helen can lay out what she needed. She softly tells you to strip down from the waist down, not trying to upset you. Your hands shakily strip and take the sheet from the doctor hands that she offers you.

“Just lay back and relax okay? I will be as quick as I can.”

You nod and close your eyes as she begins the exam, tears silently starting to leak out as you realize she is going to know the full extent of what happened. The damage. Ten minutes later she hands you your bottoms back and writes a few things down before facing you again. Her eyes were sad as she grabbed your hand.

“I am so sorry that this happened to you, y/n. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I’m going to leave a card for a really great therapist, okay? Use it only when you’re ready.”

I nod at her words, unable to find enough air in my lungs to form words. Her caring words just made you want to cry more, made it more real. You find yourself staring into space as her figure disappears and you hear your door close. Mumbled voices on the other side of the door, one you recognized distinctly as bucky.

“Please Helen, how is she? Can I see her?” He begs.

Helen shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid you can’t Sergeant Barnes. She needs space and time to heal, and to be frank…I don’t think she wants any…male attention right now.”

Turning her head to Tony who stood a few feet away with his eyes glued to the floor and hands in his pocket. “Tony, can I speak to you and Dr. Banner alone?”

Tony simply nods and sends a quick text to Bruce to let him know to meet them in his office. Once gathered, Helen shut the door, locked it, and turned to the two men. Before she could speak Tony interrupts, “before you start… I think it’s best Nat be in attendance. If this is about y/n, then another woman should be present so she can be more helpful.”

Helen nods and unlocks the door, opening it to see Nat already standing there. Giving here a sad subtle smile, Nat walks In and Helen locks the door once again. Now facing the three she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she spoke, “After further examination of Agent (y/l/n), it’s come to my attention that her injuries were far more severe than I thought.”

“How bad?” Nat asks shakily.

When Helen’s eyes open, they’re full of tears. “I don’t want to go into exact details but the damage done was significantly extensive. The scarring is…immense. I could potentially help heal with the cradle but she is no where near ready for that. I’m afraid her mind is what took the most damage. I left her Doctor Raynors card for her but I’m not sure when or if she’s going to be up to it.”

Tony sighs and let’s his face fall into his hands. “So what do we do now?”

“Now you just let her know you’re there and wait for her to be ready. Dr. Banner you should run routine check ups on her, her nutrition is below what I would like for her. Agent Romanoff can help you with that,” She turned to face Nat, “You’re one of the only women here so you are going to be better at getting close to her than anyone else. She’s going to need you.”

Nat nods as tears slowly paint her cheeks and nails dig into her palms. Bruce places a hand on her back in comfort while he tries to keep his own cool.

After Helen leaves and it’s just the three remaining, a angsty silence fills the room. They knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but their hurting hearts wanted to save you from the abyss that was swallowing you whole.

One week passed.

Nat knocked every day, no answer. Friday ran a health check as best she could. Bucky slept on the floor just outside your door just in case you needed him.

Two weeks passed.

Nat knocked every day, no answer. Friday kept running health checks as best she could. Buckys back was feeling it from the sleeping on the floor. But it was worth it if you might need him. Even if you hadn’t called for him.

The third week came.

Nat knocked every day.

It was a Wednesday when you finally opened the door. Nat had to keep her face from falling at the sight of you. Face pale, eyes dead with bags under them from no sleep, and she could tell you had lost weight in an alarming way.

Smiling weakly you say, “Hey Nat. Come in.”

You open the door wider and step to the side to let her past. As you do your eyes find bucky on the floor and your heart aches but you can’t bring yourself to call to him. Not yet.

Closing the door behind you, you sigh and turn to face her. “I know it probably is a mess in here for you and I look terrible I really apologize.”

Nats voice trembles as she asks, “can I hug you? Is that okay?”

Your face pales even more but you nod with a gulp and the next thing you knew the redheads arms were encasing your frame.

“Don’t ever apologize for anything, okay? If anything I’m sorry you had to go through all of it. I know you know that I understand what you went through more than anyone else here. So I want you to know that I’m here throughout it all, okay? You aren’t alone in this. You never have to be alone again.” Her tears are wetting your shirt as she speaks just like you know you’re now wetting hers.

Sobs wrack your body as you cling to your best friend for dear life. “No matter what I do I keep seeing it. Feeling it. I can’t escape it! I feel their touches like they were burned into my skin and it makes me sick…and scared. I wasn’t strong enough to stop them, they kept telling me I was weak over and over. And you know what? They’re right. I couldn’t protect myself. What good am I to the team at that point?”

Her arms grip you tighter at your words, holding your shaking body as the sobs kept coming before leaning back to be able to grab your face to force you to meet her eyes. “You are the best teammate we have, do you understand me? This is not your fault and it doesn’t say anything about who you are or what you can do. This does not define you. Ask anyone, y/n, they will tell you that you’re the most kind, skilled, and strongest agent we have. They were the weak ones, not you. Do not forget that…Please don’t forget that.”

You simply close your eyes as more tears cascade down your now rosy cheeks. “I just don’t know what I did to deserve this. I keep asking myself why over and over and I just…I can’t.”

“Some people are just evil. The world unfortunately holds some truly vile people who want to steal your light. But you can’t let them win. And if you need any help keeping that light alive then please do not hesitate to come to me or anyone here. Please.” Nats begging at this point and you can’t help but sob more at your incredibly supportive friend. You were so grateful, the shame you felt melting away as you finally had someone who understood and supported you in a way none else ever could.

“I love you, Nat. You really are my best friend.” You sniffle as you admit with a small smile. It felt good to smile for once.

“I love you too, kid. You already know you’re my best friend too,” Nat admits with a matching smile before continuing, “I just have to ask though…you do have a massive super soldier sleeping outside of your room the past few weeks that has been worried sick…are you ready to see him? If not it’s okay and I’ll tell him. We don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

At the mention of bucky your heart squeezed tightly and you swear you almost lose all the air in your lungs. You hadn’t had even processed that yet! How he would react was your biggest concern. Would he hate you? Would he be disgusted? Would he break up with you?

Sensing your distress Nats eyes go wide as she exclaimed, “it’s okay! I’ll tell him no. Y/n I swear it’s okay.”

You shook your head despite the anxiety that had consumed you. “No, no I need to talk to him. It’s okay. Please send him in.”

She nods and replies, “okay , just holler if you change your mind okay?”

You nod and watch as she walks to the door and steps out. A bunch of murmurs before your hear him loudly get up quickly and rush into the doorway of your room.

You stood with your arms around your torso in attempt to hold yourself together as you felt his gaze go over you. Eyes glued to the ground, your breaths were ragged as the silence plagued the air.

“Doll…”Bucky calls out, his voice heavy with emotion but raspy from sleep.

At the sound of his voice you break into a whole new level of sobs. Rushing to your side he reaches out and almost touches your skin, but instantly realizes before yanking them back.

Your brain automatically channels this as him being disgusted by you which fuels your sobs even more. “I’m so sorry,” you cry out, “I’m so fucking sorry. You think I’m revolting.”

What? Bucky thinks to himself. He couldn’t believe those words left your mouth. Tears pooled in his eyes and he let out a ragged breath before saying, “please don’t say that, doll. You have no reason to be sorry. This isn’t your fault. Do you hear me?” He takes a careful step closer to you to bring himself within arms distance between you. “This isn’t your fault. It never has been.”

Your arms wrap tighter around your torso like you’re trying to keep the pieces together and to prevent him from seeing that if you let go, you’d fall to pieces all over the hardwood floor beneath your feet. Your chest is tight as you try to contain your sobs but they continue to rip you apart piece by piece. “They ruined me for you, bucky. I can’t…you won’t want me anymore.” You cry.

His tears are now waterfalls upon his cheeks as his heart is being torn to shreds at your words. “No, no, no… please don’t talk like that. I will never not want you…can I…can I hold you?”

You’re unsure but find yourself nodding. It was difficult at first but as his arms wrapped around you and held you close it felt like glue was being poured within your cracks and your wounds were temporarily numbed.

“You are the most important thing in my life. Compared to you, the missions, the job, heck even the world are nothing. Meaningless to me because if I didnt have you I can promise you I would be the most miserable man in the universe. What happened to you was traumatic and terrible and I am so incredibly sorry I wasn’t able to protect you this time. But that doesn’t make you any less beautiful, any less amazing, any less perfect to me…” leaning back, he put a finger underneath your Chin to raise your eyes to his, “I love you and I will love you forever, through every timeline that exists. It will always be you. So please understand that no matter what happens, you are my person and I’m here for it all. The bad, the good, the ugly. I promise I will be here to help you through this is the ways that I can and give you whatever space you need when you need it.”

His words found home in you as your arms released your middle and inch by inch encircled his before squeezing him tight. No words were spoken for a while as you simply held each other and cried.

A while later you both sat on the floor by your bed side by side in silence. It was comforting and simply something you didn’t know you needed from him until now.

Turning your head to him you say , “I’ve been told we are going to share the same therapist these days.”

Bucky turned his head to look at you and smiles, “I’m glad you’re taking up the offer. I’m proud of you. She might be a pain in the ass for you though.”

You raise your eyebrow, “more than you?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “I’ll take being a pain in your ass any day. My favorite job.”

You shake your head with a small smile. You didn’t know how you were going to heal from this but you know that between Nat, Bucky, and the others…you would get there one day. You weren’t alone.

[widodiangelo]

"Are you a vampire?" “Oh my god. That is not the question I thought you were going to ask.”

See, here’s the thing. Will was a smart man. He was in med school. And even with the taxing workload of school, he still loved to read. And his favorite things to read? Horror and dark folklore.

That surprised most people, but Nico found it endearing. And Will was glad, because this was one hyper-fixation he was sure he’d never get over. And so he couldn’t quite tell if he was making it up when he saw lights flicker as Nico walked by them– on more than one occasion. Or that the air felt noticeably colder when he became stressed or mad. Or that he was eerily silent when he moved, or how he hated being out in the sun for too long. 

This is all by way of saying: Will wasn’t dumb. And there were some things about his boyfriend that, when combined, created some interesting theories. 

Will totally did not think his boyfriend was a ghost. Or a vampire. Nope. Well, maybe? No.

…..

Nico stepped out of the shadows onto the soft carpet of his living room floor and promptly collapsed over his old couch with a groan, one hand still on his earpiece. “Annabeth. You said this one was a simple shade.”

“It’s not my fault someone flagged the wrong file.” Annabeth retorted.

“I’m sorry Nico!” Percy’s voice rang from Annabeth’s side of the line and Nico couldn’t help but smile at the sound of what he could only assume was Annabeth flinging a book at her boyfriend’s head. “It’s fine. Just–” Nico replied, hissing a little as he shifted and got a better look at the gash in his side. It wasn’t concerningly deep– but he should probably take care of that. “That was a little close for comfort.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a scrape. I should go bandage it though.”

“Alright. Call if you need anything.”

“Bye.” Nico clicked his earpiece to end the call and stood up from the couch with a groan, reaching to take his hair out of its messy ponytail. He turned toward the kitchen and froze with his hand in the air. Because standing in his kitchen, holding a half eaten bowl of fruit loops, was his boyfriend, mouth open and eyes wide.

Oh shit. “Will?” Nico asked, panic rising in his throat. How much had he seen?  “Why the fuck are you here?”

Will swallowed, willing his mouth to close. “Um. I was out of fruit loops. More importantly– what was that?”

“I–” Nico started, but immediately his vision began to swim. Great. Just great. He wasn’t sure if it was from the shadow travel or from the blood loss, probably both, but either way his eyes rolled back into his head and his body swayed. Will barely had time to rush forward and keep him from smacking his head on the floor as his body went limp.

….

When Nico regained consciousness no more than a few minutes later, he was laying down on the couch and his boyfriend’s piercing blue eyes were staring at him with deep concern that was bordering on panic. Fuck. He tried to sit up with a wince, only then noticing that Will had his hands pressed on the wound at his side, trying to stop the bleeding. 

Nico studied him, honestly surprised he was still there. He didn’t look scared of him. He looked scared for him. “Dammit, Nico, what did you do? This is going to need stitches. We should go to the hospital. Or, no. I have a kit in my apartment. That would be faster–” 

Under different circumstances, Nico would have let him ramble. He loved seeing Will in doctor mode, if he was being honest. But considering he was currently bleeding out on his living room couch, other things unfortunately had to take priority. He placed a light hand on Will’s arm, stopping him short. “There’s a small brown bottle in my nightstand drawer.” He said. “Get it for me? I’d do it myself, but…” He looked pointedly at the blood dripping onto his floor.

Will looked at him like he’d grown an extra head. “Um, what?”

Nico’s mouth formed a thin line. “Just trust me, Will.”

They shared a long look before Will sighed, muttering something about him being the most stubborn person he’d ever met, but stomped toward Nico’s bedroom anyway. He returned a moment later, bottle in hand, and handed it over.

“Thank you.” Nico took the bottle and took three large gulps, swallowing roughly. The effects were almost immediate, and Will watched before his eyes as the wound began to close. It was nowhere near fully healed, but at least Nico was no longer bleeding. Will’s eyes widened. “What… is happening.”

Nico made a face as he took another swig. The taste of this stuff was never his favorite. “Unicorn drought.” He said simply, like that explained everything. He sat up with a groan, expecting his boyfriend– probably soon to be ex-boyfriend– to freak out any second now and get the fuck out of there. And probably never speak to him again.

Instead Will studied him. He looked confused and surprised, sure. But where Nico expected fear or disgust, he saw a hint of curiosity.

Will was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, it was absolutely not what Nico was expecting: “Are you a vampire?”

The question caught Nico completely off guard and he did something Will had rarely seen him do. He doubled over laughing. 

Will watched, frozen, as his boyfriend clutched his stomach, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. Nico gasped for breath. “Oh… oh my god. That is not the question I thought you were going to ask.”

The initial shock was starting to wear off now, and Will pinned him with an unimpressed look. “I just saw you materialize out of darkness then magically heal what looked like a stab wound in under a minute.” He responded.

Nico looked up at him through dark bangs, a sparkle in his eye. “And that says vampire to you?”

Will seemed to consider this. “Well, yes. Also, there are no mirrors in your apartment, I’ve never seen you sleep, and I think you may be allergic to sunlight.” He said, counting off each reason with a raised finger.

Nico laughed again. Clearly his horror-nerd of a boyfriend had already put a lot of thought into this. “Yeah, okay. I suppose that’s fair.” 

Will glared at him. Or, as much of a glare as the boy was capable of, which was not much. “I still haven’t heard an answer.”

Nico smiled. “No, Will. I’m not a vampire.” He didn’t elaborate.

Will raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Are you going to explain this to me, then? Or should I just keep listing things until I guess correctly?”

Nico placed his mysterious bottle on the coffee table. “That could be kinda fun.”

“Nico, I swear to god–”

“See, now we’re getting somewhere.” Nico cut him off with a smirk. He was enjoying this way too much.

Will fought the urge to punch him. Even though the unicorn… stuff seemed to have helped he didn’t think attacking his boyfriend minutes after he’d been leaking blood all over the place was a good plan. “What, god?” He asked, half joking.

His boyfriend shrugged.

Will’s eyes widened. “You’re a god?” 

Nico crossed his arms. “Styx, no. Just… half of one.” He said the last part carefully, studying Will’s reaction. “A half-blood. Half mortal. Half… not.”

The gold-haired boy sat up straighter. “Styx. That’s from Greek mythology.”

Nico smiled. “Well done, nerd boy.”

“Don’t call me that. You expect me to believe you’re half Greek god?” Will said incredulously. Part of him absolutely did not believe this. But a much larger part of him was almost giddy at the possibility.

Nico averted his gaze, his smile melting. There it was. The disbelief, the annoyance. Why had he expected anything else? “Look, if you wanna leave, I get it.” He fidgeted with his skull ring, unable to bear watching his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend realize he’d been dating a monster. 

But Will reached out a light hand and softly, gently, took his chin, lifting his gaze. “Nico. I’m not leaving. Unless you want me to?”

Nico shook his head, eyes wide. Will smiled. “Good. Because I have questions.”

Nico’s eyes flicked back and forth, looking for any hint of hesitation in his boyfriend’s eyes. He found none. He felt the tension in his shoulders relax a bit. “Shoot.”

“How exactly does this work?”

The corner of Nico’s mouth turned up a bit. Nerd. “Just like the myths. Sometimes the gods come down and have relationships with mortals. We’re the product of that.”

Will’s brow furrowed. “We?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah. The gods have a lot of kids. You remember my friends in California– Percy and Annabeth?” Will nodded. “I met them at camp: where people like us train, learn about our heritage, all that shit.” Nico paused. “Oh also my co-worker Jason.”

Will’s eyes widened. “No way.”

Nico’s smile grew. “Way.”

He could almost see the gears turning in Will’s head. “And your… godly parent is…?”

Nico tensed at that, and Will backtracked. “Sorry. Am I not supposed to ask that? You don’t have to tell me–”

“No no, it’s okay.” Nico cut him off. “Sorry it’s just… my dad’s not exactly the most popular at camp. Or on Olympus. Or anywhere, for that matter.”

Will’s gaze softened. He waited patiently for his boyfriend to continue. Nico twirled his ring. Once. Twice. He swallowed roughly before answering, his voice almost bitter. “...Hades. You know, king of the Underworld? All sunshine and rainbows? Super fun time?”

Will was silent beside him. Nico looked up from his ring, expecting to see disgust. Instead, he was met with a blinding smile. “So what you’re saying is, vampire wasn’t too far off.”

Nico’s anxiety melted away immediately and now it was his turn to look at his boyfriend like he was the crazy one. Will was something else. “That’s your reaction? Really?”

Will shrugged. “You remember who you’re talking to, right? The horror nerd?” He ran a hand through his golden curls. “I just learned my boyfriend is the prince of the Underworld. This is awesome!”

Nico let out a light laugh. “You are so weird.”

“Says the son of Hades.”

“I should not have told you this.”

Will grinned. “No going back now, death boy.”  It was then that the events of the night came rushing back to the older boy and he frowned. “Do children of Hades often come home with stab wounds? Also, how the hell did you just, appear, in your living room?”

Nico sighed. “Okay first of all, do not call me death boy.”

Will’s smile returned a smidge. “Unlikely.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “What you saw was shadow traveling. And no, I try not to get stabbed if I can avoid it.” He replied, trying for humor.

Will gave him a look, and Nico caved. “Okay, okay. Sometimes, when mortals do something dumb like a seance, they get enough pieces right that it actually works. So, Than and I have to go clean up their mess and banish whatever they conjured before anyone actually gets hurt.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Than… as in Thanatos? Holy shit.”

Nico smirked. “Not that holy, actually.”

Will actually did punch him lightly in the shoulder that time and Nico laughed. “They’re usually not that dangerous. I just went into this one unprepared. Annabeth usually gets me some research on a new case if it’s going to be something more difficult than a simple shade. Turns out this last one was more… demonic than we expected.”

Will’s eyes sparkled. “Oh my god. You’re a real life Dean Winchester.”

Nico looked at him in confusion. “Who?”

Will laughed. “Oh I have so much to teach you.” He pulled his legs up and turned to face Nico, sitting cross-legged on the couch, practically vibrating with excitement. Nico watched him fondly. “But first, I have so many more questions.”

[dangerprone2000]

Hi guys! I know it’s been a while 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 but I’m finally on vacations and i promise I’ll be more active all of these days! Here’s the first draft of chapter one !!! Hope you guys enjoy it! More Fraphne content coming soon 💗💗💗

Chapter 1.

She snuggled into the warmth of her sheets, trying to fall asleep.

The smell of jasmine in the air helped her relax after a particularly hard day.

She had been hiding in her room for four days from that woman, from the disfigured ghost that now haunted her every time she closed her eyes, in her dreams, her knight in shining armor always rescued her from her bloody prison, and the toothless smile of her tormentor. Daphne had never seen such a brutal scene before, a body rotting in her internal juices, decaying little by little as the bugs ate her flesh.

It was comforting to know that even if she opened her eyes, her knight would still be there, not exactly there, and not exactly hers, but Fred Jones had always made sure to get her home safely.

She thought about all the times she had seen a lifeless body, which were, sadly, more than she would like to admit. She had a big family back in Scottland, and she assisted to a couple funerals to an open casket. She remembered the crushed, strangely deformed face of one of her uncles, his body, an empty shell, and she realized she was afraid of death.

The patter of the rain drowned out the sound of her cell phone in a drawer of her nightstand, where it had been since Daphne decided that putting it away would help her think more clearly.

The sound of her window sliding away brought her back to reality, and she jumped, grabbing whatever she had on hand to defend herself against it. Out of a nightmare, the corpse had finally come for her.

She scanned the room in search of the intruder, but a solid massive silhouette was tangled in the curtain, unfolding across the wide frame immersed in darkness.

“Fred?”

He smiled, throwing his wet coat over her desk.

“You are going to be the death of me” she said, wiping the palm of her hands in her night gown.

“The butler said you were very sick” “Pretty much something contagious” He chuckled, taking a seat next to her. “And your phone, oh, it works! It didn't seem so when I called you the first thirty-three times.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

Fred finally straightened up, taking a slightly more serious posture.

“You have called it sick for three days. We were worried about you.”

We were. We, not I. She decided to ignore the sting piercing her gut and hold on to the full sentence, feeding her hope that after all, it meant he cared too, at least a little bit.

“You don't look sick.” He insisted.

She wondered how she could joke after what had happened, what they had both done.

“It's after two.”

“Yeah, that's why I didn't use the front door.”

Fred's body sprawled on the mattress with naturally, his blonde hair blown by the wind, extending on her pillow like liquid gold strands.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, crawling under her covers. Perhaps, he also wanted to feel a little less alone, after all, Daphne and Fred were inseparable, like the spark and gas that pushed the pistons to start an engine.

Like the spark she felt at the tips of her fingers every time they touched.

“So,” she said, avoiding his eyes, “are we going to address the elephant in the room?”

His face hardened, trying to avoid the thorny topic. “We only did what we had to do to escape unscathed from a crime we did not commit.”

Daphne nodded. Maybe if they kept repeating that to themselves, they would start to believe so.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Earlier that morning,

Fred woke up in his room, disoriented and sweaty.

His dad stood in front of him, sipping coffee from his favorite black mug.

Fred could tell he was mad at the way he looked at him. Maybe he already knew, maybe they were in trouble. Maybe not.

He sat down, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

It was often better to stay quiet and wait, after all, it wouldn't be the first time his father got mad at him for something that wasn't exactly related to him.

“You have slept the whole afternoon” He said, turning his back” I’ll wait for you Downstairs to get dinner like decent people do” and then, left him alone in the room.

He couldn't stop having nightmares about Daphne. Thinking about her all night, her eyes all white and cloudy, threads of blood adorning her angelic face.

And the way that nightmare started was particularly disturbing, with her elegant limbs dancing and twirling around her rooms as she undressed.

And why would he ever be fantasizing about that?

Daphne's beauty was obvious to everyone, but Fred preferred to reserve those kinds of thoughts for the girls in his adult magazines, and not directly towards his best friend. It felt immoral, somehow wrong.

Once again Fred’s head was divided: his thoughts were fast, but he couldn't feel more than one thing at once, otherwise he would implode. So, he better keep it cool.

First thing first, he got to deal with his father. He would have time to think about his weird dreams and their meanings later.

Or never.

Probably never.

Fred got up, taking a glance at his messy room: his bed was damp, a lot of blankets and pillows were scattered on the floor, where two of his crashed scale models, a pillow had landed on them during the night, thanks to the movements of his restless sleep.

It was kind of annoying to think about it, because he really liked those two, and he spent weeks, months, working on them, the smaller they were, the more effort it took for them to be accurate.

He lifted a few broken pieces, realizing they were almost shattered.

Fred would have to start at the beginning, the mechanisms were broken and repairing them wasn't an option, it would be a complete waste of time. He took them and put them in the trash can.

He took a seat on the table, right in front of his father.

“I don't want you fooling around with your friends this week, Fred.”

“Any particular reason or just the regular one?” he stroked.

“We found a body decomposing in the swamp near Gatorsburg this morning.”

His heart stopped for a moment. Fred's body froze in place, as if he was glued to the chair, he kept his arms under the table, trying to hide the trembling of his hands.

They weren't supposed to find it yet. Not enough time had passed to erase the evidence, the traces. He hoped that the bacteria in the water and animal activity had left too little to analyze. Not that he didn't want to discover who murdered that girl, but rather a desperate attempt to erase their own traces left back in the crime scene.

He couldn't just call the police and hope for the best when he couldn't justify how he knew where to find the body. In no way did they come out well, having illegally listened to the police on the radio, and having contaminated the entire scene. Not only would they look guilty, but it would also ruin the entire re-election campaign if it became known in the press.

Four days passed until they heard about it: A couple of freaks from LA went to Crystal cove on their honeymoon, probably in search of low-budget paranormal experiences.

Crystal Cove was always full of people Looking forward experiencing all kinds of phenomena. He wasn't exactly a believer, but still, he had seen enough weird things to give it a shot.

“This couple's car ran out of gas a couple miles far from the forest” His father explained “There was nobody around to help, so they walked looking for a gas station, until they found the body floating on the shore.”

Fred stared at his father's face blankly, trying to keep a steady breath. He pictured his face behind the bars of a real prison. And Daphne, what about her? She wouldn't survive in jail a single day. Why then had he pressured her to hide the body? Easy. He had experienced police operations way too closely to know that the first to find the body was going to be the main suspect.

And speaking about Daphne, she had been called out sick all four days, missing exams, a theater rehearsal, and refusing to leave her house no matter how many logical reasons he gave her.

She didn't even let anyone in.

The mayor snapped his finger at him, like he was able to smell his panic, the burning worry on Fred's face.

“What's wrong child? Nothing to say? I'm going to start thinking you are finally maturing”

The table went silent for a couple of minutes. “You haven't acted this weird since you reached puberty.”

Fred shook his head.

If the killer did exist on the same existential plane as him, he or she was smart enough to make it look like Amanda's just stepped on the wrong place, at the wrong time… Or maybe it was the witches.

Maybe Amanda had messed with them.

Maybe no one was safe on Crystal Cove.

Fred Jones Sir must have noticed how pale his son face was, or the way he uncomfortably shifted on his seat right after their little talk.

That was when Fred Jones started shaking, so badly he had to drop the cutlery.

“I’m a little bit tired, so if you excuse me…”

The man on the suit do not hesitate after dismissing his son.

- Thank you very much for taking the time to read it and give me your recommendations, XOXO.

[randofics]

Saw this welding mask and had to write this.

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

You were pissed. The boys had been messing with the new guy on base and had gotten bored of him. So they turned their attention to you of all people.

First, it was little things like missing bolts and screws from your cabinet where you kept spares. Next, a wrench or hammer from right next to you as you did repairs. Then, they started taking important welding equipment that you were currently using for vehicle repairs. The tip for your MIG welder or your gloves and even a whole argon gas canister somehow.

If you confronted them, they'd just play it off as them pranking you or that you just misplaced some stuff. So you took matters into your own hands. While they were out at the bar, you went into their quarters with a portable MIG welder and your gear to do a bit of magic. You clamped the node onto the metal of Ghost's desk and slid underneath. With your auto shield mask on you lined up the gun with the small space between the drawer and sliding mechanism.

With a bead that would make the welding gods weep, you welded an inch long piece sticking the drawer permanently in place. You did this to each drawer on each desk, or if they didn't have one, you welded their lockers shut. Then, just to mess with them more, you put a single tack at the bottom of their doorframe to make it hard to open. The tiny tack weld would break with enough force.

You had also bought a bunch of tiny mirror pieces to bedazzle an old mask you still occasionally used. It took a few hours of work but you finished it. Whenever someone tried to bother you while welding, they'd be blinded by the reflection of extremely bright light.

The next morning, you woke to loud banging on your door. "I'm off today. What do you want!?"

"What the hell did you do to our stuff!? Get out here!"

"I didn't do squat! Now let me sleep, please!"

"I'll break down your door if I have to! I don't care if you're dressed or not!"

"Ugh, fine, hold yer horses!" You slide out of bed and open your door coming face to face with Soap. "Follow me." You sigh and follow him to their quarters. The others have convened in Soap's room and don't look too happy, and Alejandro is trying to pry open the locker to no avail. Gaz pipes up. "What did you do!?"

You can't help the hyena like laughter that spills from your mouth at their plight. "Yall decided to mess with me and got what yall rightfully deserved is what happened!"

"Can't argue with her there boy's." Price leans against the doorframe arms crossed. "Don't think you got out of this either, Captain. Just because you weren't involved in the main thing dont mean you weren't involved at all. You turned a blind eye to the whole thing, so you got your door tacked shut."

"You're right. I should've stopped them."

"Darn right, you should've! Some of that equipment was bought with my own money, and if any of you broke something, you were gonna pay even more dearly than this!"

Your face said it all. Sure, they had only meant for these to be harmless pranks, but evidently, your equipment was off limits. No matter how hilarious messing with them had been, you were still ticked off, and you had one punishment left for them. With a mad hatter grin, you broke the news to them.

"I'm not gonna grind all these welds down for ya. Also, I've taken all the grinders from the shop along with the discs so all of you are gonna be using files instead. You pulled a bunch of metal files from your back pockets and set them on the table. "Good luck to ya boys!" With that, you left hearing the groans and complaints as you returned to your quarters.

"Oh, come on!" Soap threw his arms in the air like a toddler having a tantrum. Alejandro had stopped pulling on the locker door. "At least she gave us the files."

Once you were in your room, you doubled over laughing. It would take them a few hours to file down all those welds enough to open the drawers and lockers. Price just had to knock the tack off with a strong hammer swing. You had facetimed your mother and father as you finished up the welds that night, and your father had been laughing just as hard as you were.

Also, the bedazzled shield would be put to use as soon as you were back to work. You'd be blinding people in no time.

-------

The boys were spent. Their arms and hands hurt, and they had metal shavings all over their uniforms. They wouldn't make the mistake of messing with you again or at least not for a while.

[bleachedjuice]

'Pompeii ' pt3

Warnings: mentions of ptsd,war, and angst

Yeah, so just like the konig one, this is only to get one more part due to the fact that I wanted this to be a more so bitter sweet and cut to the chase type fic. But don't worry the longer ones are on their way

The blinding lights that seemed like the heavens gates opened up and beamed down onto your eye, utterly filling it with blurred circles and twos of everything. And then a snarl erupted from your lips at the blurred faces above you as you lunged upward with an impeccable view of the adrenaline swimming through you to fight at whoever was blurred in your vision until a harsh grip held your shoulders and utterly pinned you still back down against the beds groaning metal frame and mattress that seemed to drowning you. Everything burned. Everything rang. Everything was buzzing.

You were..

Alive?

Your focus then snapped back into reality, almost like a whiplash, and then everything went...quiet. So utterly quiet...the calm before a storm it seemed.

And then you saw a pair of blue eyes boring down into your own.

"Simon?"

It's been months and months of hunting down the rest of the cartel. And months and months more of rehabilitation due to your undying stubborness to stick with 141 even with a knurled face and one eye. And Ghost...no.. Simon was there every step of the way. You made it out of there barely alive, and they said, with a broken rib and almost a snapped spine... lucky they said. Lucky. But..it didn't take away your ability to shoot.. or even utterly be even perhaps a better soldier It seemed. Gave you an edge. And made you like a rapid dog with the wrong things.

And that just happened.

Price was smoking a cigar and got too close to you and then your blind spot, and once the smell hit you..

All you saw was the room filled with dirt and the smell of blood as you recoiled and swung yourself frantically in pain in the chair. Your vocal cords raw and pain stricken your eye tumbled to the floor and all you felt was excruciating pain and your face was pinned..and the smell of Burning flesh filled your nostrils as a cigar was all that was your other eye saw before it snapped shut as you reared around mad with pain..

it was too late for Simon, who was sitting right next to the two of you... and he watched as your pupil dilated and your scarred side of your face that now reveled quite the sight of some of your side teeth, including your lower jaw and upper,canines,gums,and tongue as well, and traveled up to the now empty and healed hole of an eye socket... roll into a snarl, more so your teeth baring as you twisted at Price and the white of your eye showed pure utter horror as strangled noise came out of you. Followed by a noise of a stool clattering the floor, Price yelling and the noise of a loud thud. You had whammed him right in his face, and Simon had almost ran out of his chair while the others checked on Price, and you practically reared out of your chair, panting harshly as you hit the tiled floor with a thud and Backed up like a spooked animal would frantically against the drawers of the kitchen. Your eyes were wide and horrored as you realized what you had just done. And then you saw the look in Prices' eyes change from being practically gobsmacked to a soft sorry look as he realized what had just happened.

Tears pricked your eyes as the images just utterly fluttered through your skull, and all you saw was Ghost veer into your vision.

And then he looked over his shoulder before snapping back to you as you spoke,

"Fuck! Price I'm sorry....I'm so sorry"

And then Price, as he was getting up, spoke, as he left the room, practically and evidently going to the infirmary to get it checked out with the knowledge that you had drawn blood,

"Easy kid, you didn't. There's nothing wrong, I should've known to stay away from ya on that side let alone with a cigar."

And with that He was gone.

And so was everyone else.

Just you and Simon.

And then, you felt yourself unable to even breathe, and as a harsh pant filled you lungs with gasps, a harsh hand gripped your chin to look him in his eyes. Your eye wincing as it struggled to focus on just one eye or let alone anything else in the room.

"Easy there, hey,Hey! Just look at me. I know you can still see my eyes through the mask. Focus there. You're fine. Your ok. I got you now. I got you."

And with a choked sound, you utterly just hugged the man, and you both sat there as you cried into his shoulder, and your breath returned..and you two sat there long after you had stopped crying, with you sniffling and him just sitting there holding you as he lowly whispered small words of encouragement and kindness? All you felt was the rumble of his chest as he spoke..his breath..his heartbeat

And slowly, by the steady and strong beat of the man that held you, you had been lulled to sleep.. and you found yourself with the best sleep you've had for months after the incident.

[ghcstao3]

(scrapped) soapghost christmas

i realize it is february. However… however. yes.

this fic was gonna be my contribution to (tbh one of my favourite tropes) the whole idea of soap brings ghost home for the holidays because why not. but alas. check below the cut

*

“We’re friends, right, LT?”

It takes Soap all of two seconds of being subjected to Ghost’s intense stare to decide that maybe he shouldn’t be asking that sort of question of Ghost, but it also only takes all of two more seconds of slightly less intensity to decide that yes, they were, in fact, friends.

Soap allows himself a self-assured nod as he sits on the edge of Ghost’s desk. He winces when he hears papers that were most likely of some importance crinkle beneath him, but Soap pushes that concern aside to be dealt with at a later time. Right now, he has important business to attend to.

“Great,” Soap continues. “I have an idea. As your friend.”

Ghost abandons the form he’d been working on to sit back in his chair, exhaling a deep and distantly pained sigh as intense melts away for unimpressed, and rightfully so. Soap offers a meek smile, but it does nothing to mitigate the way Ghost’s eyebrows are irritably furrowed.

“It’s December,” Soap says. He’s slowly coming to a realization that perhaps he doesn’t want to dig himself into this hole, but he also supposes it’s too late to back out now. Soap just wants Ghost to fill in the pieces so he doesn’t have to finish, or say what he means to, but the hope is easily diminished in Ghost’s continued silence.

It’s torture.

Underneath his balaclava, Ghost’s eyebrows raise just noticeably.

“It’s December,” Soap reiterates. “And Price refuses to assign you more missions than usual.”

Ghost narrows his eyes at Soap. “What are you getting at, Sergeant?”

Soap swallows nervously. He shifts where he sits without meaning to, incidentally ruining more of the papers beneath him. Ghost would certainly kill him later, if not in a few short seconds.

“Leave,” Soap blurts. Ghost’s eyes widen a tad, just a moment before Soap can backtrack. “Sorry, no, not like—like taking a leave—a leave of absence, is what I meant.”

Ghost shakes his head, sighing again as he moves to stack the documents before him, tossing the pen he’d been using in a drawer. “I don’t have time for this, MacTavish. Either spit it out or take your own advice before I do.”

“I cannae believe you’re making me say this, LT.”

“I’m not making you say anything, Johnny.”

Soap huffs, his shoulders curving in on themselves as if his posture wasn’t already poor enough. He thinks, despite all missions he’s ever participated in, despite all the times he’s been shot, stabbed, or broken in some way, this is the most difficult thing he’s ever done, and it was brought about by his own volition.

Maybe this is what hell is. Maybe Soap is in hell.

Uselessly, Soap shrugs. “I just figured that you weren’t going home for the holidays, even though Price won’t give you more than paperwork, so I thought to invite you out to Glasgow,” Soap admits. “Because we’re friends, and you shouldn’t have to be left alone with rookies for the holidays.”

Unhelpfully, Ghost just grunts. He pushes away from the desk and stands, letting regret seep into and stew in Soap’s chest like some cruel and unusual punishment. Surely, this is hell, and Soap has been condemned to an eternity of embarrassing himself in front of his superior officer.

“Because we’re friends?” Ghost finally says. His tone is neutral, balanced, and Soap can’t yet tell if he’s mad, or… anything else, really.

Soap stares at Ghost. His balaclava is too open, too honest, where Ghost’s eyes aren’t further hidden and darkened by the shadow of his mask. Soap tilts his head forward in a nod, just barely. “Affirmative.”

After several seconds that seemed to stretch on forever, Ghost hums. “I’ll think about it.”

[cherryeclipw]

Simon Ghost Riley as your boyfriend (f!reader)

💐♡

all sfw

mainly fluff, slight angst maybe??

¿How would he ask you out?

It would take Simon a while to realize that he has a crush on you, but when he does it's all he can think about. He starts making mistakes more often and gets distracted easily. He is so mad at himself for not being able to concentrate 🥲 He would probably talk about it with Price and he would convince him to tell you

Ok so he trusts Soap a lot and they are great friends, but when it comes to love ghost finds him so annoyingg. He is always joking about it and teasing him everytime you walk past

Your smile when you said good morning would already have him melting and tripping over stuff, he would try to act cool but he just can feel his heart beating faster when he is with you

I imagine the scenario being him coming from a very hard mission. You would congratulate him and tell him how well he did. He would be unable to hold it back and he would just burst an "I love you"

The silence would be SOO UNCOMFORTABLE until you smile in surprise. "Like actually?" You would ask, and he would nod and you would end up kissing!!! Reader would be the one taking inniciative though.

¿How would the start of your relationship be like?

At first he would be firm, barely holding your hand sometimes and maybe giving you a kiss on the cheek when he leaves. He is really scared of pushing you away or making you uncomfortable

I'm 100% sure he would try to write love letters. He knows how cold and emotionless he acts around you, it doesn't mean he doesn't feel everything that is feelable when he is wound you, he just struggles expressing it. He has been holding his feelings deep down for such a long time throught his life he is scared of talking about them. Most of his love letters end up at the bottom of his drawers, he can't bring himself to throw them out.

It's the little things that he does that show you he loves you. He is always behind you in case you need help. When you are on a mission together he slips his extra bullets for you... he is so scared of loosing you.

Simon would be in fact head over heels, he would do anything that you asked for no matter how much of a pain in the ass it would be. He is so servicial it's kind of annoying.

He would be very insecure about being with you. He would need constant reassurance that he is enough and that you don't want anyone else. He feels like you could do so much better than him.

Officially dating

Once you have been dating for a few months he starts opening up more about his feelings. It takes him a while to get used to it but he absolutely loves your touch. His favorite is when you play with his hair and he is laying on your lap. Would never admit it but loves behind held by you

Makes sure you are eating enough and drinking water, cares a lot about your well-being

He doesn't like PDA, in public he is firm and not very touchy. That is totally different when you are in private, THIS MAN....he is very much touch starved, loves having his hands on you and feeling your hands on him

Loves complimenting you. His compliments are always so well thought sometimes they even make you want to sob from happiness. He doesn't just compliment you mindlessly to make you feel good, he is genuine and loves you so much.

You both are usually on duty, but when you have free time he always makes sure you have a few nice dates. He likes bringing you shopping, going to a small and quiet restaurant together...he loves all that. But to be honest his favorite is staying in and cuddle as you watch a movie and have snacks

He likes brushing your hair and making hairstyles on you, finds it so peaceful. Everyday before training or a mission he is the one to put your hair in the tight mandatory bun. He is always so careful and makes sure it's perfectly done, at this point it's part of his morning routine

He is a bit jealous. Even thought he trusts you and the fact you wouldn't cheat on him he still feels his face burn when another man tries to flirt with you. He won't interfere unless he is too insistent thought.

[crazysandwichlady2p04]

Highschool sweethearts

Ghost x reader.

You met Simon in high school you were a exchange student and he was a ghost roaming the halls. At first you'd walk up to him and in a thick accent introduce yourself then he'd ignore you then you'd find his hiding spots and join him till he stood up and walked away but you persisted and eventually he didn't walk away! A small step but a step none the less.

You two started talking and laughing and doing homework together. You finally made a friend and he finally had someone he could trust and by trust he means it because one night you heard a tap at your bedroom window were he had climbed up and waited for you to answer.

He came in with a black eye and you without asking questions got him a ice pack to reduce swelling and a literally pulled your drawer out of your desk to place it besides him. He looked at you like you were mad until he saw a multitude of foreign snacks from your home town that you insisted he eat from because food is the best healing method (you were dead set on it). You asked him what happened and he admitted everything about his dad's drinking habits (You hugged him all night and he allowed it... And it wasn't the last time he'd come to you that night).

Your last year you both dressed for prom only to ditch as soon as you saw the cringe under the sea decoration and instead opted to eat greasy junk food in a parking lot on the hood of his car with his blazer jacket around your shoulders. But it was short lived when he admitted he sighed up for the military and he'd leave as soon as possible but to his surprise you just asked him one thing... "Be sure to come home so I can make you a nice dinner" because food is the best healing method.

It took time and patience especially after he came home to his family dead, he ran to your place just to make sure, now he's too scared to get you involved but just like highschool you kept persisting and he opened up again enough for him to make you a ring out of wire and for you to get married with only a preacher to experience it.