#if you’re not yelling whilst reading you’re doing it wrong

[gauntletgirlie]

It’s intense. It’s condensed. At first some of it might not make sense. Lots of names. Players playing games. Messes with your heart and messes with your head. Like that character? Now they’re dead. Worth reading every line. It’s sublime. Once you read it you’ll forever bleed it.

Y’know from the way people talked about it I was surprised that the Silmarillion was only 300 pages long but now that I’m reading it it’s like. Oh it’s 300 pages long but every page causes you 7 different crises and after reading 10 of them you have to go lie down for a few hours

[sttoru]

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .

⟣ sypnosis. a nightmare of your lover’s disappearance wakes you from your sleep.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, comfort, fluff. takes place after gojo’s unsealed but before dec 24th, bits of spoilers jjk leaks 236 at the end. mentions of death, blood.

⟣ note. based on it’s happening again by agnes obel. coping rn dhmu . . . not proofread bcs i cant read through my tears anyways hope u enjoy im gonna cry myself to sleep now

everyone has to die at one point — not even the strongest of all could avoid that tragical fate. not even the strongest sorcerer you call your lover.

no, not even him. the universe couldn’t spare him. you thought that maybe, it would. maybe fate wouldn’t apply to him. oh, how wrong you were.

blood splatter—a stream of red liquid. right at your feet. right in front of your eyes. a man in half. and not just any regular man;

“satoru !”

your dark surroundings become blurry with tears, your body jolts out of its current dreaming state. you could feel your heart in your chest—in your throat. your brain shut itself off for a few seconds as your eyes try to make out shapes and figures in the room you’re in. your bedroom.

you only then realises that it was all just a gruesome nightmare. a hyperrealistic one at that; one that will haunt you for years.

“hmmh.. ‘m right here, baby.” a groggy voice next to you replies to your yell in agony. the yell that was the shape of your lover’s name leaving your lips—

you instantly turn your head to the right and there he was; the man whom just met death in your dreams. gojo satoru, all alive and well. in your bed, in your presence, in your life.

satoru’s hand aimlessly pats the space next to him in search of your body whilst he rubbed his eyes with the other, trying to adjust his sight to the dark so he could find you. you seemed to be in complete distress. which he does not like.

“it’s okay, shh, shh,” your lover hums, hand finally finding your arm. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you on top of him—your head laying on his chest.

his body was warm. his heartbeat was there. loud and clear in your right ear.

“satoru. . .” a river of tears flows down your cheeks like a dam that has been broken into. your body trembles, lungs feeling like they couldn’t get any air in them from how hard you were sobbing. the pain of losing your loved one; it all came flowing back to you.

satoru frowns, “hey, hey. look at me — sweetheart, c’mon.”

he instantly sits up and pulls you along with him. his hands find your cheeks, tilting your head up. this time it was his turn to feel his heart break in pieces. you looked absolutely distraught. as if you just went through a traumatic experience of some kind. he hated it.

“shit,” satoru mutters under his breath before pulling you into his embrace again, arms circling your waist with his head buried in the crook of your neck, “it’s okay, i’m here now. you’re safe.”

it wasn’t the first time you had nightmares when he was with you. you had them regularly after satoru had gotten sealed in the prison realm for nineteen days—nineteen days of dread for you. of an empty bed, an empty house and an empty life.

when satoru had finally been released from the prison realm it was like a dream come true. a happy dream, that is. not those repetitive, bad ones you have every now and then. you still get those nightmares of your lover being either taken away from you by force or by death itself. your brain couldn’t give you a break — even after his return.

“take a deep breath in,” satoru instructs and sets an example by doing the breathing exercise with you, “hold it for three seconds . . . breathe out for six. mhmm, good—jus’ like that.”

you repeat it a couple more times, sobbing and shaking throughout the entirety of the exercise, but eventually manage to calm down a little. satoru sighs in relief at this;

“you okay, baby?”

you nod weakly and sniff, wanting nothing more than to be held by the man you thought had vanished from your life forever. you had that scare once, when he was sealed, and you never want to go back to those dark times. ever.

“it’s— i, just—“ you hiccup once, unable to complete entire sentences, “i thought you w-were gone. i thought you had died.”

it was silent after that (except for the sound your silent sobs and sniffles). satoru had guessed by now that you saw him die in your dream — that much was pretty obvious. but, the thought that you were this distressed because of it makes him. . . happy in a way.

happy that someone would mourn over him at least.

“well,” satoru pensively replies, hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, “everyone has to meet their end one day, you know?”

that sentence was one that was meant to lighten up the grim mood somehow. one of his many lighthearted remarks that were supposed distract you from your tears. it would work during other moments like these — were you’d be too baffled by the things satoru says to care about what you were crying for — yet today it only worsens your misery.

“shut up.” you weakly punch his chest to which the white haired male chuckles softly, his slender fingers instantly interlocking with yours. satoru’s thumb brushes against your wrist before pulling it up to his lips, placing ticklish kisses among your skin.

another silence hangs in the air.

“seriously though. . . if i were to somehow die, i’d want you to live and move on, yeah?” your lover whispers in such a quiet tone that it was almost inaudible. satoru had looked death right in the eye before — he didn’t care back then if it were actually his end.

he does now. he has the world to lose — his world — his everything. you.

satoru wants to live a happy life with you. he doesn’t want to die now that he has you. the love of his life which he wants to grow old with. maybe have kids with. start an own family away from the busy streets, away from the swarming curses in the city and away from all that sorcerer stuff. it was a nice dream.

“shut it!” you huff and satoru takes another weak punch to the chest. his gaze lands upon your tear struck face and he instantly drops the serious ‘act’.

the sorcerer laughs, his usual boyish laugh that makes you feel better, and he flips you both over so that he has you pinned underneath him. satoru grins before kissing your tummy all over, making you giggle from the ticklish feeling;

“i’m playin’, baby! i’m not going anywhereeee!” he promises through wet pecks against your skin, the smile on his evident even if you couldn’t see it — you could hear it in his voice.

satoru leaves your tummy and moves on to your neck and face. he was smothering you in affection in hopes you’d cheer up some way. he just wants you to forget about anything bad happening to him. you didn’t deserve to think about all that stuff — you deserve to be happy and full of joy.

even without him one day.

“i’d never leave my princess all alone.” satoru shakes his head and pouts dramatically, “who else is gonna spoil you? or kiss and cuddle you to bed, huh?”

you finally show an ounce of joy. a tiny smile. that was all satoru had needed to see. he wasn’t going to stop there, however. his goal was to turn that small smile into a full blown fit of laughter.

“i’m one of a kind, baby. you’re never gonna meet a man like me.” he continues with a proud grin, putting all of his body weight on top of you which causes you to groan and grumble a lighthearted complain.

satoru knows you like it whenever he clings to you and thus he uses that piece of knowledge to help you feel better. his head was buried into your shoulder, limbs enveloping your body like a koala.

“whatever.” you roll your eyes and snuggle up to your lover, closing your eyes as the tiredness hits your body after all that crying.

“whatever !” satoru mocks you in a high-pitched tone, followed by a pair of giggles from the two of you. a third and final punch to the chest finally shuts him up for the rest of the night.

the sorcerer made sure you had fallen asleep first before he whispered the next words in your ear, hoping they’d calm your mind and body so that no nightmares would ever bother you again;

“don’t you worry, sweets. i’m not leaving you. ever.”

. . .

those were the same exact words satoru wished he could utter to you one last time before the current date — 24th of december.

[princessbrunette]

you’d sent dbf!pope some… pictures.

not just any old pictures, and even when he saw the notifications stating you’d texted him ‘10 attachments’, he was more curious than he was nervous or apprehensive. he thought he’d developed that trust in you not to act a fool when he was in your house. with your father home.

you see, you’d gone shopping that day. feeling especially daring, you’d snapped some pictures. at first seemingly innocent— ones in the mirror wearing your little sundress, smiling through the screen. but quickly, clothes come off and soon you’re pushing your barely covered tits together like a pornstar or spreading your legs, showing off that very obvious wet spot in your panties. that spot pope knew all too well.

considering you could hear him downstairs with your father all evening, you’d expected him to leave you on read the way he did. he was your fathers best yet youngest researcher at his company, and as men do — your father not really having any real ‘friends’ before that, they’d gotten to be pretty close, your man of interest showing face at your house nearly every day now.

hours later, you finally heard the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs. at first they were quiet and careful, but became pretty thunderous the closer they got. as expected, you’re innocently waiting on the edge of the bed with your hands on your lap with a smile.

“no, okay. don’t look at me like that. are you crazy?” pope looks pissed, folding his arms after closing the door gently behind him. you tilt your head faux-innocently, and it’s pretty out of character. you were usually a very sweet girl, a tease — yes, he can admit. but not this mischievous. it unfortunately didnt take this kind of behaviour to get him naked the first time.

“you didn’t like the pictures?” you mewl and he purses his lips.

“you know i liked them. what i don’t like — okay, is you sending me this shit whilst i’m downstairs with your dad.” he whisper-yells the last part, storming right up to you with his phone in his hand.

“but im gonna guess he’s passed out with a beer in his hand right now… right?” there’s a twinkle in your eye. one that told him you really didn’t care about the scolding. he breathes heavily, staring down at where you sit. the eye contact is hot and heavy, and after a moment he gives in— grabbing your head to meet him halfway for a pissed off kiss.

he exhales out his nose like it’s relief to relieve that tension, pushing you to lie back on the bed with a little more force than he was used to— but today he felt you deserved it. you wanted to be a brat? he’d treat you like one.

“just so you know, i am so against this. this is so wrong.” he pants as he rips your skirt down, worried words contradicting his actions.

“mhm.” you dismiss, not really taking him in.

“no really. this is like, life ruining. do you understand?” he’s suddenly gripping your cheeks with one hand, getting you to stare into his eyes. he’s so pretty you go into a bit of a daze, but nod dumbly regardless. “good.” he lets go, before pushing up and beginning to hastily undo his belt. “i’d say it’s only fair you… pay for what you did, right? show me you’re sorry?” he raises his brows, lines in his forehead from the impending age.

“anything you want mr popey.” you’re totally game, giggling as you reposition yourself to be on your knees, ready to repent with your mouth. popes eyes flit over to the lingerie store bag on the ground in the corner, and being the kind of guy he is — his heart aches a little at the effort you put into impressing him. he couldn’t help it. he was a softie.

“hey, if we have time afterwards. you can show me the stuff you picked up today. deal?”

“deal!”

[keiamor]

Okay but Biker!Toji x Librarian! Reader is still on my mind-

Biker! Toji with one of those massive bike where it's wide enough for you to lay down and of course fucking you atop of it.

Biker! Toji with all black outfit, rarely take off his helmet and just look sketchy as fuck everywhere he goes. The only few times he actually take it off, he just look sexy as fuck with his hair slightly damped from the sweat.

Biker! Toji who checks women out whilst waiting in traffic, nodding at those who notice only to chuckle to himself whenever they blushed.

Biker! Toji who sometimes take women on a ride around when they approach him, only for him to weave through traffic and laughing when you beg him to stop or slow down.

Biker! Toji who definitely bribes officers to get out of a ticket, either offers to show them a good time or speed off when he catches them off guard.

Now comes the juicy part—

Biker! Toji who went to print something in library, only to stumble on you who’s nose deep in your book whilst making your way back to your desk. Having to wave you down just so you can show him how to actually use the printer, you were too busy processing what you had just read to recognise that shit eating grin he have plastered across his face as you followed him to the printer. It was then when you realise the printer was jammed, sighing to yourself as you tried to figure out a solution. Needless to say, Toji watched closely as he leans against said printer, fingers tapping against the cover. “So… Is that why you became a librarian?”

You were baffled, brows frowning as you carefully not to get your fingers trapped in this shitty printer. The last thing you want is for someone to be talking to you right now, “Sorry what was that?” Given the situation, it was only natural for you to sound a little angry. Huffing slightly as you answered without looking up at him, “Don’t play dumb with me now, sweetheart. Should you really be reading those kind of books at work?”

It was then when his question clicked, the way your froze were noticeable but not as much as the redness across your face. “I—“ You were speechless, caught red handed as you were trying to defend yourself, only then do you look up at the tall man with slightly teary eyes. “You’re wrong! I was just— I was—“

“Was what? Taking inspiration and trying to recreate them? I can help with that.” Toji leaned down and whispered with the same shit eating grin on his face, what’s wrong with this guy?

As by miracle, the printer started to working again and you take that as your cue to leave. Slamming the printer drawer close, glaring at this stranger before you walked away without saying another word. All you can hear was the same man, almost yelling atop of his long to thank you only for you to glare back at him again.

Safe to say, this same very strange, annoying man kept on showing up when you’re on the clock.

[marie-swriting]

To Be With You - Kate Bishop

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : After having a nightmare about you dying, Kate is scared for your safety but she doesn't know how to talk to you about her fears.

Warnings : character's death in a dream, anxiety, mention of Natasha's death, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warning.

Word count : 2.6k

French version

Song inspiration : Talk Too Much by Reneé Rapp

Fear can be read on Kate’s face, her wide opened eyes are set on you. Her bow is armed with an arrow, she doesn’t know whether she should shoot or find an other solution to save you. On the edge of the building roof, Wilson Fisk has his arm around your neck while his other hand holds a gun against your temple. Your body is shaking and your eyes are full of tears whilst you gaze at Kate, completely terrified. 

“You should listen to me, Kate, and give me what I want or you can say goodbye to your girlfriend.” Fisk threatens with a harsh voice. “If you really loved her, you would’ve already saved her.”

“I’m not giving you anything.”

“Are you sure about that?” He replies before shooting you in the legs to prove he’s being serious.

“Let her go!” Kate yells following you cry of pain.

“You know what you have to do to save her life.”

“Fine! I’m gonna give it to you, just let her go.”

“Kate, no!” you scream while Fisk tightens his grip on your neck.

Reluctantly, Kate slowly puts down her bow on the ground whilst looking at you as a way to reassure you. She takes her bag off her back and throws it at Fisk. A machiavellian smirk on his face, Fisk loosens his grip however he still doesn’t let you go. You can finally breathe a bit more easily when Fisk suddenly throws you on the side and grabs the bag. You scream as you feel yourself falling off the roof. Your body goes on the other side of the edge when a pair of hands grabs yours. Looking up, you see Kate holding you with all her might. 

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you! I’m gonna pull you up. Hold on.” she comforts you as she tries to haul you up and Fisk runs away from the scene.

“Kate, I don’t have any more strength.”

A tear rolls down your face the second you talk. You’re physically exhausted. Fisk kidnapped you for a whole day to set a trap on Kate and he didn’t go easy on you - he’s known for his cruelty and you’ve seen it first hand. However, you do everything to help Kate to haul you up, in vain.

“I’m gonna find a solution. I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna do it.” Kate repeats to reassure you but also herself.

In addition to your fear, acceptance also takes over your body. You know she won’t be able to do it. Kate might be strong yet, you feel your hands slowly slipping from hers so, you tenderly look at her with a comforting smile.

“It’s gonna be okay, Kate. I love you.”

Kate’s panic stops as soon as she hears your sentence, it’s the first time you say ‘I love you’. You’ve only been together for three months and until now, you didn’t dare to say those three words.

“I told you I’m gonna pull you up! Don’t say this as if you-”

“Kate, it’s okay.” you say softly.

“No, stop it. I-”

Kate doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence that your hands slip from hers and you fall down the building. Kate yells your name at the top of her lungs, your fall being engraved in her memory. The thud of your body colliding with the ground resonates and Kate can’t look away from you.

Kate takes a deep breath as she sits on her bed, panting. A hand on her chest, she tries to make sense of her nightmare. Kate brutally waking up makes you open your eyes so you turn around and see her, all shaken up. You sit down and put your hand on her shoulder, at your touch, she abruptly faces you, fear being replaced with relief in her eyes. You barely have the time to notice a tear streaming down her face when Kate throws herself in your arms.

“Kate, what’s wrong?” you question, worried.

“Everything is okay, you’re here.”

“You don’t seem okay.” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I just had a dream.” she lies, breaking the hug and faking a smile.

“Wanna talk about it? You seem pretty upset because of it.”

“No need. It was nothing. It was just a stupid dream, it didn’t mean anything. I’m fine.” Kate quickly says before standing up from the bed. “I have to go, I have training soon. You can stay here, if you want to or you can do something else, I’ll probably be home late. Be careful and call me if there’s anything weird.”

Kate finishes her rambling by pecking your lips and then, she runs away from her bedroom as if it was on fire. You stare at where she left, completely confused. Despite what she said, you can see right through her and you know this dream upset her. You tell yourself you should talk to her about it once she’s calmed down.

The following days, Kate’s nightmare keeps haunting her mind and she still hasn’t talked about it. Her nightmare made her question herself, more specifically your relationship. Though she’s never said it out loud, she loves you and she can’t lose you. Yet, since she became a vigilante after meeting Clint Barton, she has to take into account the dangers of this new life. Clint mentioned Natasha a few times and even if her death wasn’t like the one in her nightmare, the fact is, the Avengers are in constant danger and by extent their loved ones, too. Besides, since Kate’s mom went to jail, she is even more scared to lose the people she loves. 

Now that Kate has realised what it truly means being in a relationship with her, she’s not sure you’ve realised it, too. Kate is afraid to be the cause of your death due to her lifestyle so she wants to push you away, but she also wants to keep you close to her, though she knows it might be selfish on her part. She should talk to you about it, on the other hand if she does, she’ll just fall down a rabbit hole by saying too much and probably breaking up with you, her fears growing everyday so she prefers to stay silent. 

Obviously you’ve noticed she acts differently. You’ve tried to put her at ease several times without being too direct, fearing you’ll get her back up, however she always avoids the subject. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Kate asks, worried, searching for a potential wound.

She doesn't mention her nightmare even a week after and stays lost in her own thoughts. It kills you to see her distance yourself from you like this. You try to talk to her as much as you can but it's like talking to a brick wall and yet you keep making the conversation even if Kate doesn't seem to pay attention.

One day, whilst you’re both walking in the street, you tell Kate about your last exam. As usual the second you’re talking with someone, you don’t pay attention to where you’re going, focusing on your interlocutor. As you’re talking about how you feel about your exam, you just feel Kate violently grabbing you and making you take a step back then you see a blue car driving fast and honking.

“Thanks to you, I’m fine.”

“You really need to look in front of you when you’re talking, especially while walking in the streets!” she retorts, annoyed, “If I hadn’t been there, you could have had an accident! They were driving super fast, they could have hit you. Do you have any idea how reckless you are? You scared me! What if I hadn’t seen this car, you would have died in front of me!”

“But you saw it just in time and you pulled me back before it could hit me. I’m fine, Kate, we were more scared than hurt.” you calmly affirm, hoping to ease the tension.

“Because you were lucky! You won’t always be, something can happen to you at any given moment.”

Kate’s breath gets more jerky and you understand this goes way deeper than a bad driver. You force Kate to look at you before saying with a reassuring tone:

“Kate, breathe. I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re both fine.”

“I got so scared.”

“I know. Come on, let’s go to my place.” you tell her as you start to drag her in the opposite direction.

“But you wanted to buy the new book you’ve been waiting for months.” Kate protests, confused.

“I’ll buy it another day. We should get home, far away from the cars.” you state with a small smile though Kate isn’t in the mood to laugh. “Too soon?”

“Yes, barely two minutes after your almost accident is too soon.”

“Sorry. Come on.” you say, taking Kate’s hand in yours.

You turn around and start walking to your place whilst you stroke Kate’s hand with your thumb as a way to comfort her. Kate’s reaction confirms you have to make her talk, even if you have to force her. Something is wrong and she’s anxious, more specifically about you and you don’t know why.

Once you get in your small apartment, you let her sit on your couch whilst you make two hot chocolates - no matter the season, Kate loves to drink them. You hope the hot drinks will put her at ease so she’ll talk more easily. As soon as the beverages are ready, you join her on the couch. You let her take a few sips before speaking.

“Kate, we need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” she states, avoiding your gaze.

“You’re clearly anxious about something, you can’t just stay in your fear all alone. Talk to me.”

“I…,” Kate starts with hesitation, “I wonder if you really know what you got yourself into when you decided to date me and if it’s not the case then, I wonder if you’ll still want to be with me when you’ll realise it.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“You died.” she bluntly states.

“Kate, the car didn’t run me over.”

“In my dream.”

“The one you had last week? Why didn’t you tell me?” you question, starting to understand the situation better.

“You died and it was my fault.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is,” Kate insists with teary eyes, “Fisk found me again and he wanted my bag - I have no idea what was so precious in this bag but he wouldn’t let it go and to force me to give it to him, he had kidnaped you. He even shot you in the leg and once I finally gave him the bag, he threw you off the building roof - because, yeah we were on a building roof - and I tried to pull you back but I didn’t have enough strength and… and you fell.” she tells you, her voice breaking at her last sentence. “You died and it was my fault. If I had listened to Fisk earlier, if I had had more strength-”

“Kate, it was only a dream.” you interrupt her, taking her hand in yours.

“It didn’t feel like a dream, it felt so real and it made me think.” Kate retorts, putting her cup on the living room table. “At any moment, it could be real. Now that I’ve worked with Hawkeye and with my mom who worked for Fisk, I could be a target and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I care about you too much to lose you, especially if it’s my fault. And even if I’m no Spider-man or Captain America, with time, I could have more enemies way more ruthless than Fisk and Fisk is awful enough. This nightmare was like a wake-up call, I can’t be with you because it means you’re in danger and you're already putting yourself in danger when you’re talking in the street without looking where you’re going. Who walks without watching where they’re going seriously?” She rambles before going back to her main argument. “The fact is, by dating me, you put yourself in danger and it’s something you should keep in mind,” Kate adds before taking a deep breath. “Okay, having said all that, do you still wanna be with me? ‘Cause, like, I wanna be with you, maybe even forever, holy shit, maybe not forever. I mean, I’m not saying ‘not forever,’” Kate nervously adds without giving you the time to answer, “I actually have no idea what I’m saying. Are you mad at me because I’m pushing you to break up with me because of a stupid nightmare? You’re mad at me, I’m sure of it and it’s cool if you are, I don’t care. It’s just that with this dream, I can’t stop wondering if it’s a sign, like a premonitory one, you know and if it’s true, I’d forever resent myself for not protecting you by giving you an exit when there was still a chance. And, oh my God, I think I talk too much.” Kate tells herself, “I’m talking too much, aren’t I? I should let you talk. Like you said, we should talk and… Ah! Just shut the fuck up!” she screams, frustrated.

“I haven’t said anything!” you reply, putting your hands up to prove your innocence.

“Not you, sorry, I meant me.” Kate corrects with a guilty face. “I meant I should shut up and let you talk.”

“Can I talk?” you ask after letting her breath for a second. Once she nods, you start speaking again. “Kate, I get your nightmare scared you, but it doesn’t mean it’ll happen. Besides, I knew what I was getting myself into by dating you - I mean, you bragged about working with Hawkeye on our first date so I knew for the whole vigilante thing, potential enemies and everything and I still accepted to go on a second date with you. I’m aware of all of this and despite it, I don’t want us to break up, particularly because of a nightmare.” you add with a soft yet firm voice. “And also, I don’t want to leave you alone. Being a vigilante is already complicated enough, you can’t isolate yourself. You have to talk to me when you’re not okay, especially if you get yourself worried sick. I want to be with you. I might not know how to do archery or fight but I can be here for you. I want to be here for you. You can try and give me every exit you want but I’ll still want to be with you. I love you, Kate.” you confess, looking her straight in the eyes.

“You love me?” Kate questions, stunned.

“Of course.”

“Wow, I didn’t think we were at the stage of our relationship and I didn’t think you’d say it during this kind of conversation. I mean, technically, in my dream, you said it before dying though we should probably forget about that dream. Anyway, I thought you’d say it when we’d be doing something much more romantic. God, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

You lightly laugh before putting your hands on both sides of her face and kissing Kate. As she feels your lips on hers, Kate’s fears finally calm down. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds so it can allow Kate to focus on something else, yet it doesn’t mean it’s not full of love and tenderness. Once you break the kiss, Kate gives you a smile you find cute.

“I love you, too.” she says, stroking your right hand on her cheek.

“I love you and I want to be with you, Kate Bishop, no matter what you can say to dissuade me.”

At your words, Kate’s smile gets bigger, grateful she’s found someone so comprehensive and kind as you are. She couldn’t have dreamed of a sweeter girlfriend in this brutal world.

Marvel Masterlist

[yandere-kokeshi]

Could you do Price with thick thighed reader who is insecure? I absolutely love all of your work, have a great day/night ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about insecurity, and price (He’s enough as a warning itself lol)

A/N: I’m so sad I don’t get him often :(! Anyway, enjoy darling <333

A definite whore for your thighs. Price loves how full, thick, and well jiggly they are; the soft skin practically melting in his hand. His hands are always resting on top of them, no matter the time or how many people are in the room.

Sitting right next to him whilst watching TV? His giant hand is resting on your upper thigh, laughing when a comedy commercial comes on – your reaction of slight embarrassment and smile being the main reason he has you.

In the car, going for a ride due to you being home sick? His hand is resting on top of your inner thigh, his fingers barely grazing your groin. Making sure to squeeze your thick muscle three times to signal a big but silent ‘I love you’ as he turns up the radio.

Heading off to bed, already full from dinner and just want the day to be over? He’s heading with you, making sure your head is resting on his chest as his hands travel down below. He pulls your thighs up around his waist, running his hands along your skin, squeezing the plump flesh between his fingers.

His blue eyes always follow you if you wear shorts or tight leggings, him humming at the choice of clothing you picked. Price has no shame, so regardless of whether you’re in public. He’ll come up behind you and slap your ass, watching your thighs shake at the action.

Loves to make you sit on his lap or gently hold your ass from behind; sitting it in your back pocket as he talks to you in the checkout line at the grocery store.

Nothing has to be said between you too, he’s obviously obsessed.

Though, when he finds out you’re insecure about them, he ends up… being confused. Much like anyone, he questions the reason. Is it society’s pressured mind set? Is it someone or multiple people? Is it him or your negative mind?

When coming down to it, Price tries to help you with your insecurity. He makes you get off the media, taking a mental health day with him and compliments you: “They’re pretty, like you gorgeous,” — “There’s nothing wrong with your thighs, do you understand how perfect they are?” — “I think you’re imagining things, love. Do I need to show you how much I love ‘em?”

If he ever overheard anyone making fun of you or talking shit about you, Price would become a pretty curt and blunt; his cigar being put out as he yells at the person, making sure they learn to keep their trap shut before he makes it a mess.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[jermer10]

yo, if you’re not open for rqs now feel free to ignore/delete but i’m begging you to expand more on Scouts fake relationship in order to make ms pauling jealous yk. I’m stuck between the reader already having feelings for him and feeling bad during the relationship or the reader also developing feelings for scout when they realize that he’s not so bad… sometimes

TF2 fake dating - gone wrong not clickbait | scout x reader

suggestive, gn reader | anon i want you reveal yourself /j

tw: violence, sliiiiight angst but not really teehee, swearing

drabbles under the cut :P

You sometimes regret ever taking this fucking job. You could prepare for a fight, being blown up, being shot at. There was no way to prepare yourself for Scout. He was simply always there, causing this feeling of disgust mixed with...lust? As dirty as that felt, you couldn't say you denied it. He paid you the time of day that no man ever really had, flirting with you relentlessly, defending you against anyone who opposed you, confiding in his struggles to you. And yet he still wanted Pauling? Any merc in their right mind could tell that Pauling was gay. As a matter of fact she had confided this in you months ago, gushing about her feelings for her boss. So when the offer to be his partner in order to make her jealous arose, she wanted you to take it.

"I mean, clearly this can segue into some sort of relationship, right? Like, guy realizes he has what he wants the whole time kind of thing." She spoke matter-of-factly, typing away on her computer as you leaned onto the space next to her desk, arms crossed over your chest. She didn't look up at you while she spoke, but you could tell this was more for her than you, I mean, finally having this guy off of her back? A dream for her, even if she had to put up with the 'I'm sorry Miss Paulin'! I found someone else, but don't let me break ya heart, plenty o' fish in the sea!' speech. "Yeah, I'm sure you know what being second best feels like." You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off of the table and walking towards the exit. "Oh- come on y/n! Don't be like that!" Pauling turned, yelling out to you as you left her office. Maybe you were a bit harsh?

You knew why he had asked you of all mercs. You noticed the way he had become more flirtatious, more physical when Pauling was around. He had been trying this for months- to elicit some sort of reaction from the young woman, but to no avail. This was just his way of taking it all to the next step. But would it really be that bad to pursue something? Having at least a chance is better than not trying at all. You entered the dining room, gently shutting your eyes and running your hands through your hair, breathing in the stale air of the base's living quarters. This was home for you, a place where you could relax from all of it. "Sooooo, have ya thought about it?" You heard a voice come from the couch and jumped slightly. There he was, laying back into the corner of the lounge, legs spread and hair messy. He wasn't wearing his usual uniform, opting for some pale red basketball shorts and a plain white tee. How could someone so annoying be so attractive? "Yeah, fuck it. Couldn't hurt."

It wasn't long before your dynamic had shifted. During movie nights he had started cuddling up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and allowing you to fall asleep on him. Throughout battles he would tourniquet your wounds, appearing genuinely upset when you had gotten hurt. You had even started sleeping over in eachother's rooms, passing out whilst reading his comics. The other mercs noticed this shift in behaviour, and without telling them, they had assumed you were a couple. Making kissy noises when you were seen together, patting him on the shoulder and complimenting his ability to bag you. He never refuted it. Never once looked disgusted. Never laughed it off.

You started to wonder whether he was doing this for Pauling at all? Or whether he was just trying to make this whole thing seem realistic to the others enough that she would believe it too. It didn't really matter to you, you figured you could enjoy the attention while it lasted, and eventually move on. That part stung. The moving on portion of the fake dating. The aftermath. The inevitable rejection- "Hey, Pauling here," The crackling of your radio knocked you out of your contemplation. "I have a job for you and Scout. Meet me at..." You could barely listen to her, the only thought running through your mind was the fact you would have to sit there knowing any and all affection he showed you would be for her. If only they had put this in the job description, maybe you never would have applied.

Scout was already there when you arrived, yapping as usual. You were out of earshot, but could only assume he was flirting with the poor girl. Only this time Pauling was...smiling? You felt like you had been punched in the gut. "I have a job to do." You mumbled to yourself. Knowing Pauling didn't like him didn't help with the deep rooted feelings of insecurity you had around the topic. Scout noticed you walking towards them and grinned, "There they are! My partner in crime." He chuckled, slinging his arm around your shoulder. "Hey, Pauling." You forced a smile. She noticed, giving you a look you couldn't place. Did she know something that you didn't?

"Shall we?" Scout opened the side of the van door for you, allowing you to climb inside. You smiled genuinely, even if it was all fake, he still had you charmed. The ride to wherever Pauling had wanted you to work was long, and Scout was nowhere near as chatty as you had assumed he would be. He sat opposite from you, bouncing a baseball off of your side of the van. You made light conversation with Pauling, asking about work and the Assistant's conference she attended with Bidwell. You were particularly interested in Bidwell, being close with him before joining the mercenaries, and were surprised he was even still working for Hale. Scout's once peaceful expression twisted into something that resembled annoyance every time you spoke of Bidwell, and a part of you liked it. You feigned ignorance as you gushed over your friendship with the man, Pauling doing nothing to downplay your praise. Eventually you had stopped at a cave, several warning signs littered the entrance. "I need you to go in there and kill a couple of nosy tourists."

"You coming?" She peered up from her clipboard at you, eyes flickering between the brooding boy off in the distance and you. "Do you need my answer to that?" You laughed. "I'll see you when we get out." She hummed, engrossed in whatever paperwork she had been doing. Scout was definitely mad, silence was a telltale sign of his upset. You wanted to ask, to hear him say it with his own words that he was jealous of Bidwell, but you knew better than to pry. You were good at reading him, and now wasn't the time to cause an argument. The cave was deep, and even with the expertly drawn map that Pauling had given you, you felt lost. It felt like an hour had passed until you found the tourists, they were horrified, staring down at the bodies of hundreds of high ranking officials, other mercenaries, and assassins. Even regular people like them were scattered among the pile. This was clearly where she had been dumping the remains of people, and suddenly the deterring signs out front made sense.

You tried to make their deaths quick, but life doesn't really work out that way. There were three of them, two of which you and Scout had taken out at the same time using your guns. That left the third person, a man, likely in his late 20s? His large hiking backpack, boots, and layered clothing made it clear he wasn't from here. His face resembled Bidwell's in a way? You felt dizzy looking at him. He ran, traversing deeper into the cave. You were aggravated, but it was nowhere near the level of anger that radiated off of Scout. He tackled the man, beating him repeatedly. By the time Scout got off of him, you couldn't even recognize the man. He swore, wiping the spray of blood off of his face.

You tried to be scared, you really did, but the way he stood there, bat in hand, covered in gore, eyes boring into yours? It was a huge turn-on. "Let's go." He commanded, pushing past you. You obliged, and followed him silently. Eventually you had to ask, it was eating away at you, and you figured he had released most of his rage onto the poor man lying deep in the cave. "Are you okay?" It came out a lot meeker than you had expected. "What do ya think? Ya think, 'Oh Scouty is gonna love hearin' me gush about that Bidwell fucker!' when you're supposed to be my partner?" You didn't expect him to be so blunt, let alone so rude about it. Other times you had seen him jealous over Pauling he had been whiny and pathetic. This time was completely different. "Yeah, your fake partner. To make Pauling jealous. I'm not your second fucking option, Scout! You don't like me! Do you know how hard it is for me? I have to see you sit there flirting with a girl who will never like you back when I'm right here!" He stopped walking, and turned to face you. He looked hurt, and you knew you had messed up.

You kept walking, neither of you needed the map or torch any longer as the light from the entrance lit your surroundings. The afternoon sky was a watercolour mixture of purple and orange, the sun set fast behind the mountainous terrain you found yourself standing in front of. Had you really been in the cave for that long? It would have been beautiful if not for the shitty mood you had found yourself in. "Hey! How did you gooo....." Pauling stopped herself. You gave her a look. That's all she needed to know before offering you the passenger seat. The ride back to base was uncomfortably quiet, the baseball that Scout had been using to bounce off of the wall rested in his palm. The future had never felt so uncertain in that moment.

You sat awkwardly at the right end of the couch. Scout on the left. The room was dark and movie night was coming to an end, mercs slowly filing out of the room until the two of you remained. He put on some random romantic comedy and relaxed into the lounge. Your whole body was tense. The events from earlier in the night had still weighed heavy on you both. And surprisingly, Scout was the first to speak. "So....you like me?" He grinned slightly. You were taken aback, that's what he got from your fight? "Yeah, don't let it get to your head, asshole." You mumbled, staring straight at the tv screen.

"I like you too. Have for a while now." You turned to him, wide eyed. "What?" He seemed embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess that's why I was actin' so weird about the Bidwell shit," He fidgeted with his dogtags. "I started the whole fake datin' thing to make Paulin' jealous, but it stopped feelin' like that the moment I actually started to spend time with ya...." Scout stumbled over his words. He wasn't very good with expressing himself verbally, despite his flirtatious nature. "I'm....sorry.." He mumbled. You scooted closer to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry too." He leaned down to kiss you. It was long, sweet, and everything you had ever dreamed of. "Be my partner for real?" You laughed. "After all of that? Would be crazy if I said no." Maybe he wasn't all that bad.

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

Highschool Nightmare

Inspired by @seiyasabi go check out her version. Reiner Braun x Female Reader

Modern AU

“Sorry Reiner. I already have a date for Prom..” Y/N muttered quietly. “I hope you can find someone else to go with.”

Y/N L/N. The prettiest girl in all of Shingeki High School, rejecting Reiner Braun, the most popular boy in Shingeki High School. Girls would faint just at the sight of Reiner in the hallway whilst boys would stare in awe at Y/N skipping along the pathway. The two would seem like a power couple if put together but behind the looks and fame, there was a layer no one thought about.

Annie stood nervously beside Bertolt and the other sports players, who stood behind Reiner. He put down his sign reading out ‘Will you go to Prom with Me?’ As he stared down at the shorter girl.

”What do you mean you have a date? Who the hell is he?” Reiner asked.

”It’s Jean. Y’know from our old school?” Y/N asked as she nervously looked at the people behind him, wanting to leave. “We have been dating for a few months now..”

”Why didn’t you tell me? No, drop that loser Y/N. Trust me, it’ll do you good. You and I can go shopping for your dress if you want! We’ll get photos together and-“ Reiner began to rant.

”I-I’m not going to drop my boyfriend. What wrong with you? I just said that I can’t go with and I hope you find someone else to go with.” Y/N scolded as she took a few steps back.

”Oi Reiner! Don’t tell me you’re going to let her reject you like that?” One of his friends teased.

”Shut up Porco!” Annie whisper-yelled as she nudged him.

Y/N quickly turned around and looked at Ymir and Krista who were also uncomfortable. They had to meet up with the rest of the group so they quickly left the arguing group. Reaching the Cafeteria, Y/N sat next to her boyfriend and her best friend, Sasha.

”Hey babe!” Jean said as he wrapped and arm around her waist, bringing her in closer. “What took you so long?”

”Oh just another guy asking me to Prom..” Y/N muttered, trying to change the topic.

”How many guys is that now? 9 or 10..?” Sasha asked teasingly.

”Haha very funny Sasha.” Jean said as he turned back to Y/N. “I think those guys don’t understand how much I love you Y/N. Don’t worry about it though! I’ll save you if any of ‘em think of touching you!”

Krista awkwardly looked at the couple before turning to Ymir who was much braver to speak about certain topics.

”Reiner asked her out.” Ymir bluntly said, gaining everyone’s attention.

”Ymir!” Y/N and Krista yelled.

”R-Reiner?!” Marco spluttered out. “What happened then? Are you all okay?”

The rest of the conversation was awkward as Y/N explained the situation she had to face and how she explained how she told Reiner she was in a relationship with Jean and was unable to go with him.

”Good luck fighting him, Jean!” Connie said as he bit into his sandwich.

”Shut it Caillou!” Jean grumbled before looking at Y/N. “Why didn’t you want to tell me?”

”I didn’t want you to think about it.. you’re already mad about Reiner and his friends’ behaviour towards this group.” Y/N explained. 

“It’s okay Y/N, as long as we are all together I don’t think Reiners going to harm our friend group.” Krista explained.

”Let’s change the topic now and talk about how amazing I’m going to look at Prom!” Jean joked, trying to change the subject.

”You’ll look as good as any other horse in a suit!” Sasha said as the table erupted with laughter.

.

.

.

“Damn.” Jean muttered under his breath as he looked at Y/N in awe.

She was wearing her Prom Dress which was her (f/c) and her hair was let down as her face glowed under the disco lights.

“Sorry I’m late Jean-“ Y/N began to say.

”When did I get so lucky?! You’re like an angel who just dropped from heaven!” Jean complimented in which Y/N blushed at. “Say uh.. how about when this is over, we play Super Smash Bros?”

”You’re on!” Y/N quickly said before dragging him to the table that everyone sat at. “Hey guys!”

“Y/N you look so pretty!” Krista complimented.

”Sometimes I wonder how a guy like Jean landed a girl like you Y/N.” Ymir jokingly said as everyone laughed and ate small appetisers.

The night was full of fun. Y/N had been asked by many guys to dance in which Jean stepped in and refused to let anyone touch his girl. Sasha unsurprisingly ate all of the snacks near their table and had to be restrained. Krista and Ymir danced to the slow music whilst Connie pulled out his Spanish moves on the foreign music. Marco stood next to Jean as his hype man whenever he needed support.

“Y/N! Looking hot as always!” A voiced yelled out from the distance. Turning around Y/N looked back to meet faces with Reiner almost as if he rushed over quickly.

”H-hey Reiner.” Y/N said as she took a few steps back and looked for Jean.

”Say, how about you and I leave this place and have a bit of fun? We can bring my friends if you’d like, they like you a lot.” Reiner suggested.

”N-No thanks.” Y/N quickly said as she turned to run away, only to be pulled back forcefully.

“How about you and I dance? You did come with me, no?” Reiner asked as his hand gripped her arm.

”L-let go. And no I didn’t come with you, I came with Jean.” Y/N stated.

”Again with the horse-faced bastard.” Reiner mumbled angrily. “Forget that loser and hang out with me!”

”L-Let go of me right now! I mean it!” Y/N said as she looked at his friend group. “Annie! Help me please!”

In an attempt to get away from him, Y/N ended up hitting her head against a pillar and falling unconscious. Jean looked around for his beloved girlfriend only for her to be in Reiners arms, unconscious and blood dripping and trickling down her forehead. Marching over there he quickly grabbed Y/N back and held her close, knowing Reiner hurt her.

”What the hell is wrong with you, you bastard!” Jean yelled as he tried leaving. “If she said she doesn’t like you then don’t do anything to her.”

“I just wanted to dance with her! I didn’t think she’d resist-“ Reiner began to say as he blocked him.

”That’s not the fucking point! Move out of my way, I have to get her to the nurses office.” Jean said as he walked off.

Marco and Connie stood beside each other as they quickly rushed Ymir, Krista and Sasha off the dance floor and explained the situation and how they should leave now.

”Shit, we should’ve known Reiner would do something.” Ymir muttered. “Should we get going?”

“What happened to Y/N?” Eren asked as he walked over to them.

”One word. Reiner.” Connie said before crossing his arms over his chest.

”What did he do?” Armin asked as he stood beside Eren, looking back at the exit.

”He knocked Y/N out! That meathead doesn’t understand how-“ Ymir begun to mutter.

”Hows the party been for you guys?” A voice asked from behind. Turning around, the group saw Pieck and Annie who stood quietly.

“Good, we’ll be going now.” Ymir bluntly said as she exited with the rest of the group.

”S-sorry about her, she just means to say we have other plans for the night.” Marco said before dashing after them and dragging Sasha away from the food.

”Reiner, they didn’t stay.” Pieck spoke into her phone.

“Shit, those guys really piss me off. Don’t look for me, I’m taking a break..”  Reiner said before hanging up.

.

.

.

Years had passed from then and Y/N hadn’t seen Reiner in so long. She continued her life with Jean during college and stayed close with her friends too. Any mention of Reiner was prohibited and all was nice. The group also didn’t mention Prom as it was also one of the worst and best nights of their life.

”Guys, have you heard of the party tonight?” Connie asked.

“There’s going to be 20 different parties in just a day, be more specific Baldie.” Jean said before biting his omelette.

“I think it’s a frat party-“ Connie began to say.

“Oh hell no, anything but a frat party.” Y/N said as she sat back.

”What?! They have all kinds of alcohol, why on earth would anyone pass up an opportunity to go to a frat party?” Ymir asked.

”It’s a frat party.” Sasha simply answered.

”Come on! Think about it guys, we never go partying cause of exams but none of us have any exams now.” Connie begged. “There will be snacks.”

”I want to go!” Sasha quickly said at the hearing of snacks.

”You already know I’m going and so is Krista.” Ymir said as she sipped her drink.

”I am?” Krista asked only for Ymir to quickly cut her off and say that she was.

”I guess I’ll go if everyone else is going.” Marco said as Y/N and Jean agreed and decided to go along too.

Later that night, they all arrived at the dorm party and walked up to the door. The ‘bouncer’ was average height, had a hat but it was flipped around and he had sunglasses.

”Who the hell are you?” Ymir asked confused. The guy pulled down his shades to reveal his familiar hazel eyes and quickly just nodded and allowed them in. 

“There’s plenty of drinks and snack inside.” The guy said quickly covering his face again.

Walking in, the group had no where to even walk as it was so crowded. In the distance, Y/N could see a group playing beer pong whilst another group was chugging down as much alcohol as possible.

”Sheesh! I didn’t think Frat Parties would be this crowded.” Connie said as the group walked over to a nice seating area. 

“Really?” Jean said before scoffing. “I’m not surprised, you never think with that big ass head of yours.”

”Hey!” Connie said before sitting down next to Sasha, who had already started eating food.

”How’s the party so far?” A voice asked from behind. Turning around the group saw Pieck after years, in the same position ads they last saw her. Nothing had really changed in her appearance since then so the group instantly recognised her.

”How are you here.?” Krista asked nervously.

”I got an invite from a friend that goes here. Porco is the bouncer so he’s not getting any time to himself.” Pieck said.

”I knew he looked familiar!” Ymir mumbled before drinking a beer.

”That’s nice, the two of you here and partying like everyone else..” Connie muttered before turning around to grab a few snacks.

“Oh it’s not just us two, Annie and Bertolt are here as well. So is Marcel, Colt and even Reiner.” Pieck explained, making everyone freeze. “You should say hi to him Y/N, he misses you a lot-“

”N-no no. I’m quite alright, I don’t want to meet anyone else tonight-“ Y/N began to say.

”Y/N!” A deep voice yelled out in the distance. Jean slid a hand around Y/N’s waist, protectively as Reiner made his way towards the seated area. He was most likely drunk due to his constant stumbling but soon he finally reached the table.

”It’s been a while Y/N! Looking hot as ever, just like in High School.” Reiner said before sipping on a beer.

”Thanks.” Y/N muttered before leaning into Jean, uncomfortably. A wave of awkward silence passed until Marco spoke up like the responsible one he was.

”How’ve y’all been?” Marco asked only to be ignored by Reiner.

”I’ve been missing ya Y/N! Where’ve you been?” Reiner asked as he tried slinging and arm around her but failing.

”She doesn’t want to talk to you, leave before you make everyone else more uncomfortable.” Jean said.

”Oh it’s you. Horse-face bastard.” Reiner muttered before turning back to Y/N. “How about you and I get outta here and have some fun together baby?”

”Get away from me Reiner. I don’t want to do anything with you so get out of my sight, you don’t even attend this college so you might as well get of this site!” Y/N said.

”Y/N let’s go.” Jean whispered as he intertwined his fingers with hers whilst taking her by her hand and dragging her out, Sasha following after them.

”I-it was nice seeing all of you.. I guess.” Marco said as he rubbed his nape and followed Ymir and Krista.

”No it wasn’t. It was a pain in the ass, I completely approve of what Jean did.” Connie said to both Reiner and Marco as he quickly followed after Marco.

”For fucks sake, those stupid friends of hers are still tailing her like lost puppies.” Reiner groaned as he pulled out his phone and went on social media.

”R-Reiner, what’re you going to do now?” Annie asked nervously, looking at sweaty Bertolt.

”Maybe you s-should let her be with Jean-“ Bertolt stuttered out.

”No! I refuse to let him even touch her, especially in front of me.” Reiner exclaimed. Porco came rushing in, hair messy and hat thrown onto his shoulder.

”I tried to stop them from leaving but that freckled girl punched me!” Porco yelled angrily. “Reiner, get yourself a plan or else I’m leaving this shitty friend group.”

”Don’t worry about it, I got a plan alright.” Reiner muttered before going towards the Beer Pong game.

.

.

.

Finally moving in with Jean was like a dream come true. The apartment looked really modern and cute, littered with photos of the couple.

Walking towards the stairs, Y/N made sure to say hello to the old lady that lived next door to them. She quickly looked away from the mailboxes and turned to Y/N, making sure to compliment the beautiful lady.

”How’ve you and Jean been? When are you getting married?” The sweet lady asked.

”Hopefully soon, we’re still trying to figure out some sort of plan for the near future.” Y/N said as she giggled at the lady’s question.

”You guys must be having a guest over tonight. He walked into your apartment today, I could hear Jean just so happy and loud.” The lady said.

”Guest? I think Marco or Connie must’ve come over then.” Y/N muttered before smiling. “Thanks for telling me! Hope you have a good day.”

Y/N walked up the stairs to her apartment and knocked on the door, groaning at the fact that she left her keys inside. 

“Jean, it’s me! Open the door, I have the snacks that we wanted.” Y/N said before the door slowly creaked open. Pushing it open, Y/N looked into the dimly lit apartment and walked in slowly. “Jean? Where are you?”

Slipping her shoes off, Y/N turned to close the door and walked further down the hall only to have a large, rough hand cover her mouth whilst a massive arm pulled her into the figures chest. Her screams were muffled and her attempts to escape this unfamiliar person’s grasp were unsuccessful.

”Darling calm down. It’s only me.” The deep voice muttered. In the corner of her eye, Y/N saw her High School nightmare, the drunk frat guy, Reiner Braun.

Quickly dragging her to her shared bedroom, Y/N was pushed onto the bed and sat paralysed. As the light flicked on, Jean was tied up, on the ground, bruised and muffled with a dirty rag. Just the sight of each other made tears form in their eyes.

”Jean!” Y/N yelled as she got up to go to him, only to be stopped by Reiner. 

“Sit down princess and don’t make a sound or else.” Reiner threatened.

”Or else what?! You broke into my apartment, beat my boyfriend to the point where he’s bleeding and you expect me to shut up?!” Y/N yelled trying to go to Jean.

Reiner quickly pushed her back onto the bed and grabbed a baseball bat that Jean had kept in the closet. Swinging it at Jeans stomach, his screams could only be heard from within the room. Tears dropped from his eyes and streamed onto his lips.

”Stop it! Stop hitting him!” Y/N yelled as her own tears flowed down her cheeks. “I’ll sit down and b-behave, just don’t hurt him.”

”Good. Now, in case you don’t know, Porco is in a car in the parking lot. Pack your bags now so I can take you to our new house.” Reiner demanded as he towered over her.

”W-what..? What do you mean new house?! I’m staying here with Jean-“ Y/N began to say.

”No you’re not. He’s been sleeping with what’s mine, talking with what’s mine, kissing what’s mine for years. Now you’re coming with me, to our home where I can treat you like you should be treated.” Reiner explained sternly.

”L-Listen. If you leave now, we promise not to tell the police. I’ll forget this ever happened-“ Y/N suggested.

”Shush darling, I’m not going to be listening to any of your nonsense right now. It’s either Horse-Face gets the beats or you listen to me like you’re supposed to and come with me.” Reiner said as he turned to loom at Jean is disgust.

Jean’s screams were muffled as he pleaded for Y/N not to leave. He loved her so much that he would take those beatings just for her.

”Y-You promise not to hurt him.?” Y/N asked.

”If you don’t want me to.” Reiner muttered before smirking like a psychopath. Y/N simply cried silently and grabbed a suitcase to start filling her bag, Jeans words couldn’t be understood, his throat going dry. Once her suitcase had been packed, Y/N looked at Jean and untied him.

”Y/N! Please don’t go! I’ll get help, I’ll send someone to hunt him down, just don’t go with him.” Jean quietly begged, eyes red.

”Jean, I promise we’ll find each other again. Just for now, please get treated and contact someone.” Y/N whispered before kissing him gently.

”Let’s go.” Reiner said in a deep tone before grabbing Y/N by her wrist and dragging her out with the suitcase in his other hand. She felt sick. She had just left her boyfriend in their shared apartment, to attend to his wounds by himself. 

Getting in the car, Y/N was forced into the backseat and saw Porco at the front, not wanting to make as much eye contact. Reiner sat in the passenger seat and let Porco drive them off to their new house.

.

.

.

How long had it been? Captured and forced into a home where a lady could have anything, Y/N was stuck in her massive bedroom. She had been forced to live like Reiners wife and soon fell into depression after not seeing anyone but Reiner and his friends.

She remembered what it was like when Annie and Bertolt saw her, gagged and chained, tears falling down her face. How Annie muttered a sorry and how Bertolt reassured her that living with Reiner would be better.

Grabbing a Bobby pin from her drawer and tried unlocking her ankle chain. Y/N had never done this before but it was worth a shot, it was her only chance to escape. To some sort of miracle, it clicked open and released her, allowing her to get up and exit the penthouse.

Opening the door and rushing into the living room, Y/N bumped into Reiner who looked down at her in distraught. She stood still like she was paralysed and gulped before speaking up.

”R-Reiner!” Y/N stuttered out.

”What’re you doing out of your room..? No. How did you get out of your chain?” Reiner asked as he towered over her. “You were trying to escape again weren’t you?”

”W-what?! No! I love you so much that I could never imagine leaving your side. That’s why I left, because I missed you so much!” Y/N lied.

”Really?” Reiner asked whilst smiling before looking down at her again and blankly staring at her pretty face. “Y’know.. you nearly got me there darling. Let’s go back to our room, this time I’m shortening your chain.”

Reiners trust in Y/N had dropped back to zero once again and had to feed her, bathe her, dress her as an excuse of not trusting her to do it alone again. Eventually, this led to Reiner doing some ‘private activities’ on Y/N. He just craved her touch so much! How could someone blame him for wanting a child with such a beautiful woman. 

Once she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, he just wanted to hold her so close to him, knowing that she was his. Seeing her grow a child in her stomach just made him want another, which led to him having another boy. Soon Reiner was a father of 4 boys, 4 boys that he would cherish and play with for the rest of his life. He would constantly thank Y/N for various things, only for her to nod silently. 

“Mommy! Why don’t you ever smile at dad?” Aaron asked curiously as he looked at his mother who held her newborn close to her.

”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N simply said before lying. “I smile all the time.”

”Mom! Look at what I drew!” Matteo exclaimed before showing his colourful, messy drawing.

”Thats wonderful.” Y/N mumbled as she took the picture and smiled. She had to smile at her little boys or else it would raise suspicion. She would also get locked in her room once again, only given food or water every 4 days.

“Mom, the phone is ringing!” Aiden said as he handed the phone before getting back to his work.

”Hello?” Y/N said.

“Y/N! It’s me Ymir!”  The voice on the other side said. “Get outta there! We’re here to save you, go to the front door and wait for Marco to unlock it.”

”Y-Ymir.” Y/N said as tears formed in her eyes. Quickly getting up and setting down her child, she rushed towards the door only to be grabbed by the arm by Reiner.

”I heard you say her name. That freckled bitch.” Reiner mumbled. “You’re not leaving, I’m going to go and break all of their skulls. Stay here.”

”N-No! No! I finally have a chance to leave, to leave this nightmare-“ Y/N began to sob as she fell to the ground, not caring if her sons saw.

”Dad? Is mommy okay?” Aaron asked quietly.

”Boys, go to your rooms for now. Mommy and I have to talk.” Reiner ordered.

The three boys rushed to their room, leaving Y/N and Reiner alone. Pushing her to the floor, Reiner rushed towards the door and grabbed his baseball bat and walked out the door.

After years of being abducted, Y/N had the chance to see her friends, family, her true love. After a long time, Reiner came back to the penthouse, his white shirt stained with red.

“No one’s getting in our way now Darling.” Reiner muttered as he smirked mischievously. He crouched down and cradled Y/N before kissing her temples passionately. “Go make dinner for us okay? I’ll go check on the boys.”

”O-okay.”

[pocket-watcher]

Hello friend! I have a request, please!

Betrayal. Specifically, one of the hero’s sidekicks had previously been kidnapped by a villain and hypnotized to lead the rest of the group into a trap. They’ve been brainwashed to the core, and now that the rest of the group is trapped, the villain can finally take them as well, their loving, hypnotized pet sidekick at their side. Smiling. Maybe they even lightheartedly apologize to their doomed friends. Lots of resistance attempts and “snap out of it!” stuff.

Hi friend!! This is such a deliciously evil concept, you mastermind. I hope this does it justice…

Day number 57 since a member of the team had been captured by the villains.

And man, it was just eating up everyone inside.

Lacey had giant bags under her eyes, Hank had gone through the security footage at least 100 times, and me?

I was… fine.

I mean, I’d be better if we had Petey back, but, it was fine. I was fine.

“You don’t look so good, Elle.” Lacey put her hand on my shoulder.

“Really? Because I feel great! Super, even. Aha, pun intended.” I laughed weakly, before clearing my throat.

The warehouse echoed with it.

We’d ran the data. And then ran it two more times. Petey was here, all we needed to do was our jobs.

We just had to save him.

Hank scanned the room and gestured for us to move forward. Stopping and scanning, every few feet, until he faulted for a moment.

“…Petey…?” He said, with relief, running out into the open.

The man tackled Petey into a bear hug.

“Oh thank the lord.” Hank mumbled into his shoulder.

Lacey stood back whilst I joined the two.

“What happened? Are you okay? Where were you?” I asked, checking his face for any distress.

No new wounds, that was good.

“I’m okay.” He said, truth in his eyes. “I promise you I’m okay. I’m just happy to see you guys again.” Petey was smiling between the two of us, when his face turned to confusion.

“Lacey?” Petey asked.

She was still hanging back.

“I’m just… this feels a bit too convenient, right?”

We all stared blankly at her.

“Lacey, I’m fine -“

“How did you escape? How are you even standing in front of us, we all know that -“

Her voice broke.

We all know that hostages don’t make it out alive.

“Can’t you just be grateful?” Hank shoved her shoulder. “You always gotta be some sorta conspiracy theorist.”

“Guys, enough.” I yelled. “Let’s go home, come on.”

I grabbed Petey’s hand to walk out the door when -

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that.”

Petey’s feet were planted on the floor. He was smiling, sweetly at me.

I looked at him in confusion.

“You wanted to know how I escaped? I didn’t.”

His tone was all wrong. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

That was when Lacey shifted into a fighting stance, when Hank staggered backwards, and I pushed Petey behind me to see someone walking out of the shadows.

A villain.

“Ah, so these must be your friends?” The voice asked.

“You stay away from him.” I growled.

“Petey, be a good boy and come here, won’t you?”

I watched as Petey, without a hint of resistance, casually joined the villain at their side.

Lacey’s teeth were bared. Hank looked broken.

“How could you?!” Hank yelled.

“Don’t blame dear Petey, he was just doing what I told him. And now he’s brought me some new toys to break in.”

I started at that. I had to get Petey away from this monster. Away from whatever was making him act this way.

The other two jumped into action, ducking and dodging the villain’s attacks.

“Come on Petey!” I yelled, being batted away from him by a large mechanical arm that had sprung from who knows where. It tried to pin me down, but I wrestled. “Fight it!!”

Hank went flying past me.

Petey stood there, smiling, muttering something. I read his lips.

“Just give in. It feels so good. Stay with me.”

I shook my head and snapped the robotic arm, throwing what I had at the villain to distract them from Lacey.

“I know you’re still in there Petey! Just hang on, I’m coming.” I started, before I felt arms pulling me back.

Except this time, they were human.

“Hank?! What the hell are you doing?? Let me go!”

He had some sort of helmet on him, controlling him.

This must be what they did to Petey, I thought.

I turned to see Lacey’s terrified eyes lock with mine as she too had a helmet forced onto her.

I pleaded with Petey. He smiled warmly at me.

“Don’t be sad. We’re together again.”

He walked over to me and carefully placed the helmet on my head.

And I dropped.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Choice, Choices, Choices Pt. 2

TW: Swearing, canon typical violence

Pairing: Reader x Graves Summary: Well your week off wasn't very productive, hopefully a really stressful, fate-of-the-world-is-in-your-hands mission will help clear your brain. As usual, I didn't beta read, so lmk if there are an errors :) Also sorry for the reupload, I accidentally deleted it whilst trying to edit something lmaooo.

When Price said a lot, he meant a lot. 

In the time you had been gone, a new terrorist threat had popped up, a man named Hassan who somehow had gotten ahold of American missiles. You didn’t even have time to unpack before Price was shipping you off to Mexico to help Soap and Ghost infiltrate a cartel to find the location of said missing missiles. It seems the talk with Graves will have to wait.

You get no rest on the flight to Mexico. Instead you spend the entire time focusing on your and Grave’s relationship. Maybe it’s the threat of imminent annihilation, or maybe it’s the fact that you are going to be seeing him soon, but whatever it is, you were thinking more clearly than you have all week. 

Graves was a man of authority, and you had recognized it from the moment you had met him. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, and made sure everyone knew he was the top dog. In your relationship he always had the last say, always chose the restaurant, always chose the movie. And for the most part, you didn’t mind, enjoying the feeling of not having to be in control for once when all you did all day long was make choices that could mean life or death. 

He had this belief that he could do no wrong, and was smug and uptight and sometimes even cruel about it. 

And yet there was something…alluring about him. Some magnetic charm that drew you in every time you wanted to take a step back. He didn’t even have to try, hell, he had stopped putting effort into the relationship years ago, and yet you still found him almost irresistible. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew what there were issues in the way your relationship worked, but you loved him, and he…loved you too. It wasn’t until Ghost stepped fully into the picture that you realized that may-

“Y/N!” You flinch, your eyes coming up to meet your pilots as his voice snaps you out of your musings.  

“You okay in there? I’ve been yelling at you for at least a minute.” He says over the headset, “Anyways we’re about to land, so get ready.” You nod, shouldering your pack and making sure your vest is strapped correctly. 

5 minutes later, the helo begins its choppy descent. The second it touches down you are ushered off, ducking under the blades in an odd crab run as you make your way to where Soap, Ghost, and 2 strangers stand to the side. The pilot takes off before you've even cleared the LZ. 

“Good ta’ see yer no’ dead lassie.” Soap grin, clasping your shoulder, “Ah trust Price has briefed ye?” 

“Aye.” You nod, “Though he didn’t mention these two. Who are they?”

“These are th’ Los Vaqueros.” Soap says giddy, “Means th’ cowboys” 

“My name is Alejandro.” The taller one on the left tells you.

“Mine’s Rodolfo, tho y’ can call me Rudy.” The one on the right says moments later.

“Nice to meet you.” You incline your head, avoiding Ghost’s searching gaze, “I take it you’re the ones leading us through this, uh…whatever we’re about to do?” 

“Aye.” Alejandro turns and begins walking, everyone else falling in line behind him, “Soap here is infiltrating Las Almas, we are looking for El Sin Nombre. We believe he knows the location of the missiles Hassan has stolen.” 

You climb into the back of a truck, consciously avoiding sitting next to Ghost. The drive is tense, the silence only occasionally broken by questions from Alejandro and Soap. The truck comes to a stop, and you all pile out, getting Soap outfitted for his ‘Day in the life of a cartel member’ extravaganza. 

“Y/n!” You spin around, seeing Graves walking towards you, “How was your week off?” 

“It was good. Did a lot of…thinking.” 

“Wonderful.” He says, his eyes already looking past you. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek and moves past, going to speak with his Shadows. You sigh internally, moving over to Soap and Ghost. 

“How wis yer week off?” Soap asks as a Shadow helps fit his comms. He’s grinning, his blue eyes almost glowing in the dark, but you can see the faint lines of fear in his expression.

“It was since. Did a lot of thinking, I guess.” Ghost shifts, a subtle movement you notice out of the corner of your eye. Your face flushes, and you’re grateful it’s dark out so he can’t see. 

“Let's roll!” Alejandro calls. Soap nods, and you follow him and Ghost back to the truck. This drive is tense for a whole other reason, everyone thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. 

You get to the compound, and take your spot on a ridge with Ghost. No words are exchanged, but you know him well enough by now to tell he is worried about you. If Soap’s life, and the lives of millions of Americans, weren’t at risk, you would be grateful for this mission delaying the inevitable conversation you have to have. 

You both get into position, sniper rifles trained on the building. You wince as Soap is manhandled, a deep pit of fear in your stomach once he disappears from your view.

 Now all that's left is to sit and wait. 

He emerges victorious, much to yours and Ghost’s relief. He brings with him El Sin Nombre, who apparently is actually a woman, and an old friend of Alejandros. You could see yourself liking her, if she hadn’t sold missiles to terrorists.

She is feisty, smart, and cunning. She keeps her mouth shut, refusing to volunteer the location of the 2nd missile, instead goading Alejandro into a frenzy. You watch, eyes narrowed in distaste, as Graves tries to make a deal with her. Not for the first time, you judge his ability to make decisions. 

But she does give you all the missile location. In what feels like a matter of moments, you find yourself on a boat, heading through stormy waves towards an oil rig off the Gulf of Mexico. Grave’s Shadows launch an attack, only for Ghost to find that the missile not only has entered pre-launch phase, but wasn’t even on the oil rig to begin with. Instead, you find it on the deck of a ship, primed and ready to fire. You, Graves, Soap, and Ghost file onto the cargo ship, where you find that there is no way to disarm the missile. 

Your heart sinks, until Shepard has the great idea to turn the missile on the oil rig. Alejadro and the Shadow Company clear out, and Soap hacks in and resets the missile's trajectory. The burning ball of flame is a beautiful sight to see, in your opinion. 

“Gold Eagle Actual, Shadow-1. Good hit. Good hit. Missile and rig destroyed.” Graves crows,  a grin lighting up his face. He grasps Soaps shoulder, and you watch him mouth a quiet Good work, his voice too quiet to hear over the noise of the shadows and everyone celebrating.

Without thinking, you press a kiss to Ghost’s masked cheek, the euphoria of victory clouding your senses. Soap steps in to give Ghost a moment to recover, and gives you a side hug, slapping you on the back a little too hard for your liking. You don’t notice Graves eyes on you, narrowing with your every action. 

The ride back is still tense, the tension between you and Ghost so thick you can almost taste it. Luckily Soap either can’t sense it, or just is just ignoring it, the Scotsman happily chattering away as the sinking feeling in your heart grows and grows. 

The crisis is over, and once you get back you won’t be able to put off your conversation with Graves any longer. 

It’s still raining when you get back to the Los Vaquero’s base. The truck comes to a stop outside the gates, and you slide out of the truck after Ghost, confused and a bit wary. 

“What’s this?” You hear Alejadro’s voice from the other side of the truck. 

“This is the immediate future.” You stop short, Grave’s voice making your blood run cold, “Step away from the gate.” No. There is no way. 

“You’re outta line Graves.” You blink, hard, realizing you had zoned out for a moment. You force your feet to move again, rounding the truck, stiffening as a barrel is pressed into your spine.

“Hey!” Grave’s voice echoes in your ears, “Let her go. She’s with us.” You inhale sharply, looking up at him in shock. Soap looks at you in betrayal, taking half a step towards you before the Shadows are on him as well. 

“Don't do that. Don't... do that. No one needs to get hurt here.” Graves says, eyes narrowed. 

“Are you threatening us?” You can hear the betrayal in his voice as well, though he does his best to hide it. You want to look at him, try and communicate that you have no part in this, but your mind is still reeling, and you’re unable to draw your wide eyes away from Grave’s face. 

“Soldier, I don't make threats. I make guarantees. So, let's not do this.” The animosity in Graves' voice surprises you. 

“I’m calling Shepard.” Soap turns, hand reaching for his radio. 

“General Shepard sends his regards.” Graves' grin is predatory, and you have no doubt he’s enjoying this, “He told me you wouldn’t take this well.” 

“He knows about this?” Ghost’s eyes are dark, his body tense and ready to spring. 

“He's put me in command of this operation from here on out. So, y'all need to stand down. It's time to let the pros finish this.” You watch Graves still, eyes trained on his face, your brain numb with shock. Shock and…disgust. 

“And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of a negotiation?” Graves continues, “It's not. I've got my orders and now you have yours.” 

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabron? My men are inside!” 

“I'm afraid not.” Graves pauses, meeting your eyes with a disgusting grin, “Your men have been... detained.”

“Cabron!” For the first time, you manage to tear your eyes away from Graves, your gaze falling on Alejandro as he launches himself towards your boyfriend only to be beaten down and restrained by his Shadows. 

“Graves, what th’ fuck?” Your eyes dart to Soap as he lunges at the Shadow next to him, holding him hostage. You let out a small cry as Graves and his men open fire. You duck behind the truck, watching as Ghost elbows the Shadow behind him before stabbing another one in the neck, quickly ripping the blade back out and hurling it at another Shadow before disappearing into the dark. 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as you watch Graves slam the butt of his gun into Alejandro’s head, dropping him. You stare at Graves in shock, unable to move as your mind tries to process what's happening. 

Soap yells in pain, snapping you from your reverie as you spin to look at him. He’s on the ground, the Shadow he had taken laying dead on top of him. 

“Go, Johnny! Get out of there!” Ghost yells from somewhere behind you “Soap, Go!” You watch as Soap heaves himself up and throws himself over the barrier, disappearing from your view. You slide down the truck, sinking to the ground as your legs give out, your entire body shaking. 

Graves' actions start to sink in, and gods does his betrayal hurt. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, worse than the time you broke your arm, worse than the time you got shot in the thigh, worse than any wound you had ever received. It’s like a physical pain, your heart feeling as though it’s been ripped from your chest. Tears well in your eyes, your fingers digging into your palms in an effort to stop your tears. 

You don’t know how long you sit in the rain, but it’s enough time for you to be completely soaked head to toe. You are surrounded by blood and bodies, and your mind reels as you survey the scene. Alejandro is gone, you’re not sure when he was taken away. Soaps rifle is still laying in the street, a very damming pool of blood underneath and around it. With the amount of blood he lost, you're surprised he's not dead. Oh gods he better not be dead.

“Y/n?” Graves' voice breaks the fog in your brain, “Darling? Are you alright? I know this was...a bit of a surprise…but I’m sure you understand.” 

“Graves…”

To be continued.

Notes: Sorry for how long this took!!! But it's here now! Hopefully Pt. 3 won't take me another thousand years. Anyways I hope you enjoy, and sorry if this is not the direction you wanted it to go :/ Tags: @redhoodxsupergirl @infpt-zylith @scarletdfox

[st4rgrl4l1f3]

There was literally no excuse for the way Simon and Soap were the stupidest fucking people together. And only together. They are skillful soldiers, they always complete their mission. But holy fuck, take them out? Put them on a damn leash. It’s like two dogs trying to look at everything whilst on a walk.

Nothing could prepare Gaz for the way Price genuinely says shit like “whoopsies” “We’re in a bit of a jam, huh?” “Uh oh”. Kinda like if he was talking to a little kid. Gaz didn’t know why he used those kinds of words, here’s this special forces captain whom he thought was stone cold; apparently that only applies on the battlefield.

Alejandro’s mind was completely empty, watching Ghost, Soap and Gaz attempt to learn more Spanish. Soap couldn’t roll his R’s, Gaz sounded American whilst attempting to say a word that had been troubling him. It was Ferrocarril. Railroad. Ghost thought that turning Spanish subtitles on his show would help. It didn’t. “Joder, sois estúpidos de cojones..” (Holy shit, you guys are stupid as fuck..).

If Soap is mad, he won’t hesitate to scream. Yell. Only if it’s in the comfort of his home. Captain Price once came over and thought Soap was being attacked. No. He burned his breakfast. Running into the kitchen, gun in hand, he watches Soap pop more toast into the toaster. “Hope my eggs won’t get cold.” “Fuckin hell, Soap. I thought you were dying.” “No, I burned my toast.” “Fucks sake.”

Ghost genuinely cannot go a week without wreaking havoc. Scaring the shit out of people. He likes scaring the new young soldiers, ones who think they’re all that because they got into the military. That is, until Ghost comes up behind them, a heavy hand on their shoulder. “You ever been on the battlefield?” Said in a voice deeper than he’d normally go, but it was funny as shit to him, watching the soldiers jump and then looking straight into their eyes, watching as they attempt to politely disengage in the conversation.

Alejandro frequently plays video games, hard ones that he gets up on his high horse talking about “How hard can a Videojuego be?” (How hard can a video game be?” …Until he is red with rage, veins popping out of his forehead, hands shaking and squeezing the controller so tight that Rudy thought it was going to break. “No es tan grave, Alejandro ..” (It’s not that serious, Alejandro..” he says, getting more and more quiet as he spoke. Alejandro looked back at him, throwing the controller into the wall (denting it.) “You try then, Pendejo.” He says in a dark, creepy ass voice.

The teams genuine reaction when Gaz pulls out a book on the helicopter and starts reading is fucking insane. “Reading?” Ghost comments, wide eyed and sounding astonished. “I mean, the flight will be long. Might as well” He says, shrugging. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’, Gaz.” Soap scans Gaz’s eyes, looking for any humor in them. None. He was completely serious?? “Well, nothin wrong with a bit of reading, yeah boys?” Captain Price reads the room—“..You guys seriously don’t read? Ever?” “Why the fuck would we read-“ they both chirp in unison.

Captain Price is either over dressed or under dressed for the occasion. Why are you wearing a suit at Christmas dinner…And why are you wearing shorts and a Metallica shirt to church…Sometimes Gaz helps him dress so that he won’t look out of place. Has to take him out shopping since he’s rarely in normal clothes, I mean he’s got his gear and a civilian outfit (STRICTLY a civilian outfit.), maybe four shirts, a few pairs of shorts, three pairs of jeans, and a pair of sweatpants. Which wasn’t exactly bad, but for church that just will not do, Captain!!!

Soap has no social anxiety. He’s loud when he laughs, talking with random men at the bar, telling his story to some guy named Daniel who he just met 13 minutes ago. Which for the record, Daniel thinks Soap is fucking awesome. Holy shit dude, you’re a special op? Yeah that’s not something you see everyday. Him and Daniel now meet at the bar a few times per week when Soap is given the green light to do so.

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

Holding Out Hope.

Pairing: Newt x Fem!Reader

A/N: This takes place in the third movie, and the reader finds out, what potentially could happen to Newt.

“What, you’re afraid your little girlfriends gonna get hurt?” He stated rather then asked Thomas. “Hm? Because this has never been just about rescuing Minho. Has it?”

What is going on?

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Thomas asked, with genuine confusion plastered on his face. “Teresa. She’s the only reason that Minho’s even missing in the first place.” Newt said, getting closer, and Thomas took cautious steps back, til he was almost up against the wall. “Now we finally have an opportunity to get him back. And what? You don’t want to because of her? Because deep down inside you still care about her, don’t you? Just admit it.”

Newt, what has gotten into you?

“Newt, I…” Thomas tried to reply, but Newt forced his back against the wall. “Don’t lie to me!” He exclaimed, and my heart starts pounding in my chest. And by the looks of Brenda, I’m not the only one whose frightened. “Don’t lie to me!”

“Newt!” I slowly move over to him trying to call him over, but he ignored me, sending death glares at Thomas. I move in close enough to put a hand on his shoulder. “Newt..”

“Don’t you dare touch me!” He exclaimed, letting go of Thomas, and points at me. If my heart wasn’t beating fast before, it sure was now. “You’re always so damn touchy. Leave me the hell alone!” He said, as I completely backed off and looked at the floor.

I don’t know what the reason was for his sudden outburst, but all it did was make me want to cave into myself, and just disappear. Him just now registering what he just said, he apologized to the both of us, and everyone in the room.

I nod, “It’s okay.” I said, really trying to convince myself, rather then I was him. It still didn’t stop the thoughts from flooding into my brain.

Was I being too clingy and touchy? Has he been keeping that too himself, all this time? Was he putting up with it, just so he didn’t hurt my feelings?

I was an over-thinker, always thinking about stuff, I did right or wrong. All the things, I could have done better or what I could have done instead, I was always like that, even before the Glade.

I also had a tendency to forget about my surroundings and the outside world, when I was nose deep in a good book, but I’m not reading and I sure as hell wasn’t born yesterday.

He’s infected.

I’ve know Newt for a little over a year now, so I’d be damned if I didn’t know him like I know my own name. He would never just yell at someone like that. And I know that once you’re infected, it makes you do things of that nature. As much I didn’t want to believe it, Newt was probably infected, and we aren’t doing a damn thing about it at the moment.

I was too busy, bouncing those thoughts in my head, to even notice he had left the room, and Thomas came up to me. “I’ll talk to him.” I nod, and as he turned to leave I stop him. “Thomas?” He turns, saying nothing, but that didn’t stop me from telling him. “Be gentle.” He looked down at ground for a little, before meeting my eyes again, sent a curt nod my way.

Whilst Thomas was talking with Newt, he found out that he had been infected, hence the reason as to why he had yelled at the two. “I’ll go tell (Y/N)..”

“Don’t. Don’t tell her. I have to be one to tell her.” He said, Thomas didn’t respond, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t listening. “I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But I will.”

He didn’t want to tell her, cause he knew how she’d react. After a year together in the Glade, for most of the time spent there they were friends, until Newt asked her out one day. He knew her like this back of his hand.

He knew, that’d she be both scared for him, and mad at him.

Scared, due to the fact that she was going to lose, not just her partner, but someone she called one of her best friends. Mad at him because he didn’t tell her sooner, and that they’re wasting time, when they should be getting him the cure. If there even was one.

I let out a sigh, that came out shakier then intended, but I still held my head up going over to ask Gal, “Where did they go?” He says they went up to the roof, and I immediately trudge all the way up there. I know for damn sure, I’m not, going to sit here and wait for Newt to turn, right in front of me.

Fuck. That.

“Newt!” I exclaimed, as they exchanged looks, and Newt mumbled a curse under his breath, they stood up turning to face me. I stalk over to him, examining his face and chest to see any signs that could confirm my suspicions.

“(Y/N), please..” He tried to move my hands away from him. I scoff, “Please’ my ass, where is it?” Yanking my hands from his, going to back look. “Love, just stop.”

I ignore him and don’t stop looking, as tears brimmed my eye lids, I tried blinking them away, but they only blurred my vision. “Babe!”

“Just show me!” I exclaimed, unable to hide the fact that, I was seconds away from bawling my eyes out. He sighs and pulls up his sleeve, revealing the purple veins, on his right arm.

I backed away, my bottom lip quivered as I placed my hands over my mouth.

I felt like screaming. Kicking something, breaking something, throwing something all at the same time.

“(Y/N)..” He reached out, gently grab one my hands, and I place the hand that I left on my face over my entire mouth. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” I mumbled into my hand.

“Listen to me, love.”

“I hoped. I hoped!” I said, as a cry got caught in my throat, and Newt brought me into a hug. “Listen to me, don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help, but worry about you, in this shit world we live in.”

“I know, but you have to try, okay? We’ll find the cure. And I’ll be okay.”

“But- But what if?” I was going to saying, but Newt quickly put a stop to those negative thoughts. “Don’t even think about that, you hear me? We will get that cure. And I. Will. Be. Fine.” He said and I nod, and leans down kissing the top of my head, looking over at Thomas, with a look of uncertainty.

But (Y/N) didn’t need to know that.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

49. Who hurt you? From the angst prompt list if you want to :3c

"Who hurt you?" - Lambden (of course 😁).

Lambert learns that some winters aren't as relaxing as others.

“Who hurt you?”

It was the first year they’d actually made plans to meet in the spring rather than just leaving it to chance when they’d run into each other and Lambert knew he’d failed to hide his surprise. Whilst he and his brothers always left the Keep looking and feeling well fed and well rested, Aiden looked very much the opposite. He should have only left the caravan behind three days ago and yet he looked the same as he had when they’d parted ways. Worse, even. Lambert would have just chalked it up to a bad winter until he noticed the bruises.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Those aren’t nothing Aiden, those are fucking finger marks! So I’ll ask again. Who hurt you?”

Aiden laughed. Actually laughed, “You’re sweet but it’s genuinely nothing. You know how it gets towards the end of winter.”

“No, I don’t.” Lambert had the sinking feeling they were reading from totally different books, nevermind from different pages.

“You know.” Aiden said as if he was trying to prompt a child, “Tensions are high, supplies are low...”

“So these are from your siblings?” Gods. How hard had they grabbed him if the marks were still there after at least three days?

Aiden blinked, his scent turning slightly impatient, “I’m starting to feel like whatever I say is going to be the wrong answer but, yes?” He rubbed at the bruises, suddenly self conscious under Lambert’s scrutiny, “Why are you so worked up about this anyway? It’s not like I haven’t had worse. I bet your brothers have left you with a few decent ones before now too.”

“Not outside of training and nothing like this.” He paused as he thought on what Aiden had said about supplies, letting his eyes move over his body and ignoring Aiden's suggestive smirk as he did, “Aiden, did you get these fighting over food?”

Aiden’s scent shifted to something close to shame, “Guxart rations it out but there’s always the dickheads who think they’re entitled to more than their share. You do what you have to.”

Lambert felt a wave of indignation and sympathy come over him. The winter months were supposed to be a break from fighting for survival. He was resting and enjoying all the perks Kaer Morhen had offer (however few they may be) and every year Aiden was probably worse of then he was on The Path.

“Don’t.” Aiden spat out, eyes turning flinty, “Don’t you dare fucking pity me. I know it’s fucked up, but it is what it is.”

“It shouldn’t be though!” Lambert spat, “You should be going back to somewhere that’s safe and instead, what, Guxart’s letting you beat the shit out of each other fighting over scraps?"

“It’s not his fault!” Aiden yelled, jabbing a finger in Lambert’s chest breathing hard through his nose, “You try looking out for upwards of twenty people when you’re constantly on the move. Good luck knowing exactly how many, it fluctuates every year, throughout the year. Barely staying in one place long enough to do any decent hunting, nowhere to properly store fresh shit where it won’t start turning after a couple of days. I know it’s not a patch on your Keep with your-your green houses and cellars and whatever the fuck else you have up there, but Dyn Marv is my home. And you don’t have the right to look down on it.”

He stormed past Lambert, muttering angrily under his breath and leaving the Wolf stood stunned in the middle of the road.

“Aiden.” He jogged after the other, who seemed determined to put as much distance between them as he could without breaking into a run, “Aiden, hold on a fucking second.”

“What?”

“You were right, I get it. As much as I hate Kaer Morhen...it might be a shit hole, but it’s my shit hole. I just-“

Aiden stopped, turning to look at him, “Just?”

“I worry about you.” Lambert muttered to his boots so quietly Aiden would have missed it if it weren’t for his Witcher hearing.

“Fucking softie.” Aiden teased lightly, leaning slightly and resting his forehead against Lambert’s shoulder, “I survived an entire childhood there, I can survive a few months out of the year. You really don’t need to worry.”

“I know I don’t. If you ever want a proper break though; Cat or no, Vesemir is too noble to toss someone out into the snow and to certain death. Plus, I just might behave myself if I have a friend to play with.”

The last part had the desired affect and Aiden smothered his laughter in Lambert’s armour, “I’ll definitely think about it.”

[softblesses]

Winter is Here.

This is a fic created for the lovers of sickfic & some snz, mostly just created for my self indulgence. Please don’t reblog to non-kink blogs. It hasn’t been fully beta read or edited yet, but I’m impatient.

Feel free to hop into my dms to discuss and yell about N/eal Ca/ffrey & the show in general! I’m on a rewatch and back in my hyper fixate stages. I’m not done writing for these lot just yet!

~Part 1 below the line~

“Dammit, Neal. .” Was a phrase Peter Burke found himself saying multiple times a day, several times a week. His CI was late again, and hasn’t been answering his phone. Granted, it’s only been half an hour, but there’s no telling when Neal will arrive or what excuse he’ll come up with this time.

Eventually, almost two hours later, Peter spots him making his way across the bullpen and upstairs. There’s a coffee cup in his hand, of course, and his hat is slightly askew and dusted with snow.

“And what time do you call this, exactly?” Peter mutters, not looking up from his paperwork as he flicks through another page and sighs.

A pause. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to answer with the exact time?” Neal questions, removing his hat and taking a seat, tipping the cup up to his mouth to finish the hot drink up.

Peter sighs once again, simply sliding a pile of papers Neal’s way. “Paperwork day, congratulations,” he mutters, glancing up at his informant and watching his disappointed facial expression towards the task at hand.

Neal picks up a pen from the conference room desk, and scans over the pages. He flicks through them pages, click-clacks the pen a few times, and sighs heavily, followed by a yawn.

“Boring you already?” Peter hums, gaze still concentrated on the work before him as he hunches over.

“Somethin’ like that,” Neal mutters back, moving to stand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Burke sits upright, an eyebrow quirked upwards and arms folding neatly across his chest.

“Jeez, Peter. A man isn’t allowed to use the bathroom anymore?” His hands held up in surrender, before making his way to the door.

Heading across the bullpen, his pace a little slower than usual, Neal clears his throat; once, twice. It’s still scratchy, and he’d assumed it was just lack of water whilst sleeping overnight. He sniffles next, and surely that was just the freeze in the air outside; winter has dawned upon New York with a vengeance, and the chill he feels certainly confirms that much. But, a second before he reaches the men’s room, he sneezes. Not all that unusual. . . It happens, from time to time.

He eventually makes his way back to the conference room, blinking a few times and sniffling again. He should’ve warmed up by now; the office has heating, and usually he has no issues with temperature regulation. But something isn’t quite right this morning. Neal sits, shifting uncomfortably as he stares at the page in front of him. He’s always hated this part of their deal, working the cases and having to fill in page after page of writing afterwards — especially after a particularly in-depth job. But, it’s not that bad , and usually they get pizza and coffees and he’ll complain until Peter lets him take a break or two.

Today, Neal Caffrey is almost silent. Peter doesn’t like that, because a silent Neal means something is up. He’s planning something, or working on some sort of escape out of the inevitable boredom of paperwork, surely.

“Neal?” Peter calls for a second time, staring across at his partner. “Anyone home?”

Watering blue eyes glance upwards, and a quick swipe of his hand dries them off. “What?” He doesn’t mean to snap, but he’s tired, and Peter’s bothering him for something that will most likely be a quip against him. It doesn’t usually bother him, but today he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeez, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, huh?”

“I was asking, do you want pizza? My treat.”

Neal looks back down at his papers, subtly trying to rub at his nose. “No, thanks. I ate.” It’s not all a lie. He had a pastry before leaving the house, but now he really wasn’t hungry.

Squinting at him, Peter shrugs. Something was off about him today, and he’ll get to the bottom of it. . After he rounds up the others, and gets their pizza orders in. He leaves the room after a minute or two, and Neal sinks down in his chair with a relieved sigh. He reaches into his suit pocket for the few squares of tissue he’d taken from the bathroom, and pats at his nose. Neal Caffrey doesn’t get sick. He thought to himself, stifling a sneeze against his wrist and rubbing his eyes.

He gets to his feet after that, collecting up his papers and sneaking out of the room and to his desk. It’ll be easier to concentrate here, that’s what he’ll tell Peter. He’s just tired, and the weather is making his head all fuzzy. In fact, he barely notices Peter coming up behind him, and he even uncharacteristically flinches as a hand settles on his shoulder a moment later.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine.” Neal deadpans, scrawling some notes onto his sheet.

“You sure?”

“Peter, I’m just doing what I’m not paid for. Can concentrate better down here — Jones chews too loud.” He mutters, and really, it’s not exactly a lie.

“Alright. . Pizza’s gonna be up there soon if you want some.” The footsteps wander away, and Neal’s left alone again.

An hour passes by, and then another, and Peter’s keeping an eye on Neal through the glass of the conference room. In fairness, he hasn’t seen him do anything particularly strange. . . Aside from visit the bathroom once or twice, and make his way back and forth from the water cooler. Maybe he’s calling the short friend. Or, maybe he’s just thirsty. Either way, he seems grumpy and Peter would rather leave him to sulk about the paperwork day alone, if that’s what gives them some peace for the rest of the afternoon.

The day begins to draw to a close as the clock ticks closer to five pm, yet the piles of papers don’t seem to be dissipating at the same rate. Peter exhales heavily as he signs off on another report, placing it carefully on top of the other one. He’d sent Jones home a few minutes ago, and Lauren too. They didn’t have as much to do, and the weather looked to be worsening — the both of them lived further than Peter does.

His eyebrows raise as there’s a small knock at the door, and his eyes light up at the pleasant sight of his wife. Peter stands, grinning now. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He questions, stepping closer and giving her a kiss on the cheek. . . But, she doesn’t look as happy to see him as he does her.

Uh oh. What did he do now?

“Well, I was on my way home and wanted to bring you some warm treats. . .” El trails off, folding her arms with the paper bag still in hand.

“But?” Peter adds expectantly, genuinely dumbfounded.

“Have you seen Neal?”

“Oh, God, what did he —“ the agent glances over at Neal’s desk, surprised to see he’s still there. Not only

Is he still there, but. . .

“Is he asleep?” Peter scoffs out something of a laugh, shaking his head. “Working hard or hardly workin’, huh?”

“Peter!” El scolds, giving him a light tap on the arm.

“What?!”

“Have you actually paid attention to him? C’mon.” She gestures for her husband to follow her down into the bullpen, and all the way to Neal’s desk. He’s snoring, head resting against his arm. His cheeks seem to display a light flush, and the tip of his nose looks irritated and red.

Peter frowns.

“Honey, he’s sick. He must be exhausted!” El whispers, a look of genuine sympathy crossing her features. “We need to take him home. He needs fluids and rest, not paperwork and scolding.”

Peter is speechless for a moment. Neal? Sick? He’d thought he was simply up to something, and in a bad mood because of their boring day of work. He supposes it makes sense now — avoiding him, going to the bathroom more often and drinking lots of water. He must’ve been trying to soothe a sore throat, and had clearly been hiding it from Peter, too.

“He pulled a health con on me. .” He mutters, watching as his wife gently rouses his CI from the slumber he’s been in for God knows how long. Some Detective, huh?

Neal sits up fast, a sharp intake of breath causing a light bout coughing. There’s a sheet of paper stuck to his cheek, and his hair is disheveled and sweaty. Peter tries not to laugh at the sight, as bad as he feels for him at the same time.

“Contrary to popular belief,” Neal mumbles, voice thick with congestion now. “I was not asleep. I was envisioning. . Paperwork, with my eyes. Closed. My eyes closed.”

El pouts, looking at Peter, before reaching to pluck the stuck paper from Neal’s cheek. “I think you’re a little feverish, honey. Let’s get you home.” She offers Neal an arm, to which he takes without question; a dazed sort of look in his usually bright blue eyes. Peter gathers up their things, and they begin to lead the confused conman to their car outside.

“What about the paperwork?” Neal asks, frowning as he’s ushered into the elevator. “Peter always makes me do paperwork. El, did you know? Your husband. . He’s mean.” Neal ‘whispers,’ and leans against the wall for support.

“It can wait,” Peter answers simply. “And, I’m not mean.”

“He didn’t give me pizza.”

“You didn’t want pizza!”

“El, he’s shouting at me.” Neal pouts, closing his eyes and resting his head against her shoulder. She places an arm around him to keep him steady, biting against her bottom lip to keep in a chuckle. He’s clearly still sleepy, and somewhat delirious. Poor thing.

They manage to get Neal to the car in one piece, and Peter gets in the driver’s seat, whilst El sits in the back to keep an eye on their passenger. She glances at him, watching his teeth chatter and listening to him sniffle. He must’ve been feeling off all day, and the weather certainly can’t be helping anything.

“Neal?” She says softly, frowning as he flinches at the car engine starting up.

It takes a moment, but he looks at her, somewhat of a lucid gaze staring back.

“Tissue?” She smiles, offering him a packet that she had in her bag. He reaches for it, mumbling a quiet and stuffy ‘thanks,’ before plucking one out and holding it to his nose.

The rest of the car ride is mostly silent, with Neal resting his head against the cooling car window, and drifting off to sleep before they’d even left the parking garage building. Elizabeth and Peter exchange whispered conversation along the way, until they pull up outside their house and quietly argue about who has to wake Neal.

“But, he looks so peaceful!”

“He can’t stay in the car, he’ll get cold. C’mon.” Peter opens his door, and walks around the side of the car to let Elizabeth out.

She sighs, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek. “Get the stove heated and the ingredients for tomato soup onto the counter, would you? I’ll bring him inside.” He nods, giving her hand a squeeze, before making his way up to their front door and unlocking it.

“Neal, sweetie?” She’s careful when opening the car door, aware that he’s leaning against it. “We’re here.”

The chill of the air outside is enough to wake him up with a start, looking around in confusion and taking a moment to gather his surroundings. “Elizabeth,” Neal murmurs. “This is. . . Not my apartment.”

“Nope,” she hums back, reaching in to help him undo his seatbelt. “You’re staying for dinner. Come on.”

It takes them a short while, but she manages to get Neal up and out of the car, into the house and up the stairs. She brings him a pair of sweatpants Peter never wears, so that he can at least tie them up to fit a little better, and a long sleeved plaid pyjama shirt to change into.

“I’ll be just outside the door, alright?” She leaves the bathroom door ajar, so that she can listen to make sure he doesn’t fall over whilst getting changed. Thankfully, it all seems to go smoothly, and El is soon helping him downstairs and onto the couch.

Covering him up with a blanket, and giving his hair a little ruffle. “Let me get you some Tylenol for that temperature of yours,” she tells him softly, making her way into the kitchen to check on Peter first.

She brings him back a large glass of water and two Tylenol pills, carefully handing them to him and telling him to ‘drink up, slowly.’

Neal does as he’s instructed to, grimacing at the feeling in his throat as the pills slide down. His head rests against the back of the couch afterwards in defeat, and he looks at Elizabeth with an expression that could break even the coldest of hearts.

“You really are sick, huh?” She says quietly, placing his glass down on the coffee table. “Well, I’m making soup as we speak. I’ll get Peter to come sit with you.”

Neal shakes his head.

“He won’t bite,” she teases. “He’s worried about you, y’know. But, keep that a secret between us, okay?” A smile crosses her features, before she turns and makes her way back to the kitchen.

Neal feels the couch cushions get a little heavier beside him, and opens his eyes to spy Peter now sitting beside him. He doesn’t have the energy to say anything, and it hurts his throat to even try. He simply blinks, sniffles, and closes his eyes again.

“Who would’ve thought it?” Peter begins, reaching to tuck the blanket around Neal a little tighter; noting him tense up, but relax a moment later. “Neal Caffrey, famous con artist, forger and art thief,, befelled by the common cold, of all things. Why couldn’t you have been sick when I was chasing you? Would’ve saved me a damn load of time.”

“Alleged,” Neal croaks, opening his eyes again to glare at his handler.

Peter laughs, reaching out to pat the poor man’s shoulder.

“I could still beat you if I had the plague.” He mutters next, hiding his face under the blanket. ‘Hh—xght.’ Another stifled sneeze, although not all that well this time.

“Bless you, and, I doubt that very much. Looking at you now, you couldn’t run anywhere. Not even to the bathroom, I doubt.”

Neal pops back up again, sniffling and glaring still. “You don’t know that.” He whispers, reaching for the tissue box on the coffee table; Peter handing it to him, so that he doesn’t have to leave his blanket.

“Is that why you didn’t wanna have pizza with us today? Or work with me?” Peter asks quietly, leaning back against the couch cushions and grimacing slightly at the noise of Neal blowing his nose beside him.

A long pause. “Are you sure you’re FBI?” Neal quips, his voice still as scratchy as sandpaper.

Before Peter can make a comment back, El’s coming out of the kitchen, holding a tray for Neal. “Homemade soup, comin’ right up!” She smiles, setting it carefully down upon the coffee table. “No pressure to eat a lot, just have what you can.” She reassures gently, handing him the bowl.

“Thank you,” Neal mutters quielty, and it’s only for a second, but El could’ve sworn she saw his eyes get a little teary.

They leave Neal to eat his soup, fetching their own bowls and taking a seat at the table. He doesn’t eat much, but the feeling of the warm soup against his aching throat is nice. The steam is nice too, and he simply sits there for a while with the bowl held up to his face, before putting it back on the tray and curling up into the blankets.

“Do you think anyone has ever done this before?” El asks, stirring her soup absent minderdly, as she watches over Neal ftom across the room.

“What? See Neal Caffrey act like a little, stubborn kid?” Peter retorts, picking up a piece of bread and taking a large bite.

El rolls her eyes, but there’s a fond look on her face as she shakes her head. “No,” she answers. “Take care of him. You know? He looked so. . . Shocked, when I brought him the soup. D’you think he’s always been alone in this sort of thing?” She considers, her own heart feeling heavy at the notion of Neal being all alone and unwell.

Peter falls quiet, dipping his bread into his soup for so long that it falls in. “Ah, crap—“ he mutters to himself, sighing. “You’re probably right. . He probably hasn’t been looked after. I don’t know much about his past, but I don’t doubt it was lonely.” He looks up at El, a sad sort of smile on his face.

“But, he’s got us now.”

•••

Neal wakes up two hours later, to the sound of the television on low volume, and quiet voices chatting around him. He blinks slow, looking around; Peter’s sitting on the floor in front of him, with Satchmo resting on his legs. Someone’s beside him, too. . . Must be El. Everything still feels heavy, but he doesn’t feel as shivery anymore. It still hurts to swallow, but feels a little less like knives now, at least.

“Neal,” a soft, female voice breaks his train of thought. Elizabeth. “How’re you feeling?”

It takes him a minute to answer, but opening his mouth to talk somehow becomes a cough instead, and the next thing he knows someone is handing him water. Oh, Peter. Peter’s kind to him. He takes a long drink, shakily passing it back and moving to sit a little better.

“Tired,” Neal answers, voice even more hoarse from lack of use during his nap.

“Do you want to go up to bed? Guest room is all set up for you.” Elizabeth offers, reaching out to gently rest her palm against his arm.

Neal thinks on it for a moment, scrunching his nose and trying to rid of the itch whilst he does so. A shake of his head; upstairs means being alone. Downstairs means being warm, and comfortable and with Peter and Elizabeth. It’s safe downstairs.

He moves a moment later though, and both Peter and El’s gazes immediately snap towards his direction.

“‘M just going to the bathroom.” Neal informs, trying his best to escape the entanglement of blankets without any help. . Failing miserably, and having Elizabeth help him unwravel.

He denies needing help, taking quite a while upstairs, before eventually re-emerging and taking each stair very slowly and one at a time. Peter decides that as funny this situation is, he doesn’t like it one bit. Neal usually bounds down the stairs, with the same energy as a golden retriever — and the cheerfulness of one too.

“You sure you don’t want to go to bed?” Peter asks, earning a frown from Neal as Elizabeth tucks him back in.

“You know. . .” El begins, giving Neal’s hair another little ruffle and passing him his water. “When I got sick as a kid, my Dad used to let me have a ‘couch bed’ night. He’d set me up on the couch downstairs, and we’d watch my favourite movies and drink hot chocolates, until I fell asleep. How about we do the same?” She suggests, smiling at the two men beside her.

A small smile forms upon Neal’s face, and he nods. A couch bed night sounds nice. He’s never had one of those before.

•••

El and Peter stay downstairs for the majority of the evening and into the night; Neal didn’t take long to fall asleep, and only woke up once, before the husband and wife made their own ways to bed, leaving the bedroom door open incase Neal needs anything during the night. Things seem to stay peaceful, until a thud from downstairs rouses El from her slumber, and she’s quick to shake Peter awake, too.

“Did you hear that?” She whispers, sitting bolt upright.

“No, but I guess it’s my problem now. .” Peter mumbles, still half asleep as he moves to sit up.

The sound of Satchmo whining confirms to Elizabeth that she didn’t wake up for nothing, and she’s already rushing out of the room and down the stairs before Peter can even plant his feet upon the floor. But, she wasn’t expecting to find Satchmo with his paws resting against Neal’s knees, and the quiet sound of. . . Crying?

“Neal?” Her voice is soft, so as not to startle him. “What happened? Are you hurt?” She crouches beside him, and Peter soon makes his way downstairs.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. . Neal, honey? Did you have a bad dream?” She reaches out, and he flinches away, not quite lucid enough to register their company.

A soft gasp falls from her lips, and she stands. “He’s burning. I’ll get some things, will you calm him down?” She reaches to give Satchmo a pat, and turns to make a beeline for the stairs.

A quiet sigh follows after that, and Peter takes a seat beside Neal. Unsure if he’s even lucid enough to understand him, he reaches out slowly to rub the other’s arm, in attempt to somewhat comfort. “You know I don’t do so great when people cry,” Peter keeps his voice quiet. “But, I’ll make an exception here; just this once.” He gives Neal’s shoulder a careful squeeze, painfully aware of how warm he is.

“She’s gone, Peter. .”

Ah, so is he somewhat aware of his presence.

“It was a dream, Neal. You’ve got a fever — it makes your dreams worse. You’re alright now.” He reassures gently, turning his head at the sound of his wife’s footsteps drawing closer again.

“Here, Neal. It’s for your temperature. Can you open your mouth, for me?” It takes a moment of repeating herself, but he eventually complies, and Peter reaches to switch on a lamp so that they can see better.

Neal’s shivering makes it so that he can’t keep the thermometer in place independently, so Elizabeth carefully holds it in place for him. A sympathetic expression is stuck upon her face, and she gently reaches to wipe away some of Neal’s tears.

“We’ll get you some medicine and you’ll be feeling less upset,” she reassures gently, removing the thermometer as it begins to beep at an urgent pace.

‘103.6.’ Is the reading on the screen, and she turns it around to show Peter. He gives a disapproving shake of his head (which is really out of concern,) and reaches to move Neal’s blanket. But, the sound of a tired sob and the weak grip of Neal’s fingers stop him.

“Alright, he can keep the blanket. I’ll get him some water for the Tylenol.” Peter mutters, wasting no time in fetching what they need and returning to Elizabeth trying to help Neal clean up his tear stricken cheeks.

Taking a seat beside him again while Elizabeth takes the almost empty glass from him, she watches as Neal begins to lean to one side, until he’s resting against Peter’s arm. “Y—you’re not gone?” The CI murmurs, sniffling as his teeth chatter togerher.

“We’re not gone, Neal. We’re right here. El’s getting you a cool cloth for your forehead.” He wraps an arm around him, carefully guiding Neal’s head against his chest to make him more comfortable. If this is where he’ll sleep and calm down, so be it. Peter can sacrifice a few hours of rest to help his friend.

The cool cloth is placed gently against his forehead, and both El and Peter stay with him until his shivering has dissipated and he’s fast asleep again.

“Never seen him like that before,” Peter whispers. “And I don’t ever want to see it again.”

Elizabeth reaches to take her husband’s free hand. “Think you can carry him to the guest room? No use having an FBI agent completely sleep deprived, and his CI with neck ache from sleeping like that.”

“I’ll have you know, I make a great pillow.” Peter whispers back, assessing the current situation for a moment. “I can carry him.”

It takes almost an hour, but Neal’s fever eventually goes down to a low grade one again, and they can all rest easy for the rest of the night. He’s safe in the guest room beside them, his congested snoring heard in the master bedroom. But, neither of the couple in the bed mind it. It’s a comforting reminder that he’s asleep.

[insidemymind19]

About you

Part 2

I’m really not sure how I feel about this so any feedback is more than welcome

Warnings: heavy mentions of: drug use,miscarriage,blood,pregnancy,TRNSMT 2017

If your uncomfortable with any of these subjects please DONT READ

2017

“Els whereee are you” she hears Matty’s voice boom around the hotel room as she retches into the toilet once more. “There you are my darling princess angel.” He’s high again. “I can’t wait for this show tonight the Scottish crowds are fucking amazing I just feel so good” he yells not even noticing his girlfriend clinging to the toilet like her life depends on it. “Come on baby let’s go to the bar get a drink loosen up before the show” he coaxes completely oblivious to the situation in front of him. “No matty I have to get ready and I don’t think you need anymore” Ellie tries to be as delicate as possible as not to annoy the high man in front of her, “right ok be like that then I’ll just go alone you obviously don’t want to spend any time with me” he deadpans not understanding what she’s saying. “Matty I didn’t mean it like that” she yells as she hears the hotel door slam behind him. She can’t cope with him when he’s like this. Elouise reaches for her phone and shoots a message to the group chat they set for situations like this, ‘he’s really bad today said he was going to the bar can someone go find him don’t think he wants to see me at the moment. This shows going to be rough’ she hits send praying that some of the guys are able to sober him up before the show.

“Ok what’s wrong you’re being quite” Ross asks Ellie as he sits in her hotel room after a few minutes of observing her, “Ross I don’t know what to do” Ellie replies emotion leaking through her voice with Ross instantly having an idea what she’s talking about. “Elouise it’s not your responsibility to look after him yes you might be together but you know how he is he’ll not listen to any of us, we all know he needs help but we can’t do that until he realises himself” Ross tell her curtly. “I know that but that’s not everything” Ellie thinks for a moment as to whether or not to tell him. “I… Im.. um” “Ellie just spit it out” Ross replies wanting to know what’s going on. “I’m pregnant” Ellie replies quickly, not wanting to admit what is happening. Ross is taken aback by this revelation. “Are you sure, have you done a test? You might not be” Ross replies trying to reassure the women sat in front of him. “Yes Ross I’m sure I’ve done 4 tests” Ellie Quietly says. “Shit does matty know” “no I don’t know how to tell him. What if this tips him over the edge Ross I can’t do it on my own” Ellie replies desperation in her voice. Ross’s Heart breaks for the blonde women he considers a sister sat in front of him tears in her eyes instantly engulfing her in a hug, “Elouise so many people are there for you and I know for a fact you would never be on your own ok, me George, Adam, Carly,Grace, your mum, Denise So many people care about you Ellie” Ross replies doing his best to reassure her all things considering.

As Ellie stands side stage at TRNSMT she knows this is going to tough, just then she feels George place an arm around her shoulder and a soft kiss on her head whispering a “we’ll be ok.” they take the stage and start to play the opening notes to love me she watches Matty prance around the stage her heart aching not only for him but for the little life inside of her.

the show is over they’re all sat quietly backstage Matty nowhere to be found Ellie feels a sharp pain in stomach, something she’s been feeling since she stepped off stage, Ross notices her face screw up in pain, “you ok” he says in her direction alerting to George and Adam to the situation too, “um yeah probably just soar from standing up for so long and not eating” Ellie says trying not to alert the other whilst reassuring herself. “Ellie you’re bleeding” Adam says as he notices the blood pool in her lap the pain in her abdomen crippling now. “Elouise we need to get to the hospital now” Ross says panicked as he watches the colour drain from her face her eyes growing droopy. “Wait what’s wrong what’s happening” George asks not understanding the situation. “She’s pregnant” Ross hastily explains whilst lifting the barley conscious women into his arms, “Els hey look your going to be ok Yeah everything’s going to be fine” he tries to reassure her whilst lacing his finger in hers

‘Where am I’ Ellie thinks to herself, light blinding her a horrible aching in her stomach, the familiar feeling of a calloused hand in hers, a constant beeping sending a piercing pain through her aching head. After a few moments she gains the energy and whimpers softly, alerting the man beside her as her reassures her with his words that she’s ok squeezing her hand softly, a feeling she knows all to well from him, she lets out a soft murmur of his name “matty” she tries to move to see him a horrible pain spasming through her stomach groaning in pain, “hey hey Els don’t move ok” she opens her eyes at the unmistakable sound of Adams voice, glancing around the room in her confused state “where’s matty” “I need matty” Ellie pleads with Adam, “do you remember what happened Ellie” Adam asks cautiously not really sure how to approach the subject “I remember being in pain on stage” then suddenly it clicks “wait Adam is the baby ok” “is my baby ok” she asks Adam in desperation. The look on her face tells her all she needed to know, “I’m so so sorry el” Adam says as he dives into her arms to bring her some form of comfort. Ellie’s sure she feels her heart shatter in that moment, 5 words breaking her heart into tiny pieces “ I… I didn’t even get to tell matty” she sobs loudly “he didn’t even know” she lets out through straggled breaths. “Where is he” “why isn’t he here Adam” she screams.

Back at the hotel Matty is on a comedown. A bad comedown. Sitting at the toilet shaking and shivering, “Here mate drink some more of this, try get this shit out of your system” as George hands him a glass of water. “Where’s Ellie she’s got far better bedside manner than you” matty groans earning him a warning glare from george, he soon goes back to looking at his phone a worried expression on his face as he reads Ross’s message explaining that they’ve told her the news. Matty clocks the worried expression on his best friends face as he lifts his head, “whats with the face Georgie, who’s died” he questions tiredly, George giving him a look he can’t quite place, “what, what’s happened” matty asks. “Ellie she um.. No you know… um nothing it’s fine” George says quickly feeling like it’s not his place to break this news, but Matty needs to know what’s happening especially when it concerns Ellie.

Once again not sure about this but thank you so much for taking the time to read ❤️

[gutspiller]

blue diner

read it on ao3 here

you're a fae, or something unfamiliar of the sort, and quest's curiosity gets a quick hold of him when he sees you wandering.

you take a chance at fate.

Tear stains crawl down your cheeks, drying before they hit your collarbone. You sprint across the garden, legs wobbly with fear and straight adrenaline. You’re being chased, you fear.

Upon seeing the human’s face for another time, you cry out, falling into the dirty pond water. You cough, lifting yourself back up onto a fairly-sized lilypad. There’s nothing you can do, you think, he’s already seen me.

You shriek whilst choking up water, crawling back into the grove desperately. Your eyes are wide as saucers, and all you can think to do is hide . Hide back in the lavender trees, back under the willows and the blossoms up top the lily pads where you daren’t lead a fairy hunter.

The hunter’s face peers through your sanctuary, donning a vexed face. “Hey, wait!” The man yells, pushing back daisies to see you. His face is oddly kind-looking, a concerned furrow settling between his brows. “Um,” He stumbles, “My name is Quest–! I’m not trying to hurt you,”

Panicking seeing the hunter– Ugh, “ Quest”, inch back towards you, you squeal out of fear, rattling your head back and forth in useless defiance.

After a long silence of nothing but cicadas and fireflies buzzling in the humid pond air, Quest whispers a gentle inquiry.

“What are you?”

His voice is sweet. It’s calm, unlike the hunters you often see prodding around at these parts. The man’s mouth is dying to curl up into a smile, but he’s biting his lip to prevent it.

You don’t want to be tempted, but you are. You can’t help it– his gentle expression and soft demeanor pulls you in like a boat to it’s dock.

“...What do you think I am?” Your wings bat against your shoulder blades softly, glittering pixie dust on the dirt below when they touch. Quest’s eyes narrow in frustration, but soften at the sight of your unmarred expression. You purse your lips together, and flit your eyes to your right shyly.

He doesn’t respond, instead lifting an unsure hand. “May I..” Quest starts, before creasing his eyes in harmless curiosity.

“Touch your wings?” You shrink back for a second, before itching at your arms nervously. You’d never let anyone other than a few pests brush up against your wings, but it was starting to entice you, to let him in your world.

It feels so wrong, so inconceivably wrong ..that it’s right. “Okay.”

Putting all your trust in this stranger, you think, is simply laughable. To think you’ve been so barred off for your entire life, and the first time you meet someone even the slightest bit of nice, you snap and bend and curl to his will.

The second his big, soft hands land on your wings, you shiver, flexing your back on instinct. His touch is nice, but cold, and cold is often not around your place of inhabitance.

Your face flushes pink at every bend his fingers glide across, squirming under his touch. It almost feels indulgent, leaving your guard behind. But as you’re feeling his skin, it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

His semi-calloused, scarred skin feels like fresh rose petals out of a garden. You feel sacred under his hold, despite the clumsy shifts that often occur.

Something is blooming under your skin, leaving fleeting emotions at bay.

You fear you won’t be able to keep it inside.