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godihatethiswebsite · 2 months ago

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Freaks and Geeks

Pairing: cbf!soap x f!reader

Warnings: bullying, canon physical violence, some fluff

Words: 2.9k

Synopsis: You and Johnny deal with school bullies...

Seventh grade was supposed to be a better year. You were thirteen now, technically a teenager, which meant you were going to be more independent from your parents and you were going to be mature. It was the year where you were going to grow into who you were supposed to be.

Of course, that’s what you wanted but you weren’t going to get it.

The day started out normal. You walked to school with Johnny, going your separate ways as you had been placed into a few different classes and found yourself standing in the hall during break waiting for him to show.

While you waited, you saw Mary, a new girl down the hall who you had some good interactions with, walking in your direction. She was friendly and you considered her a good friend even with the little amount of time that she had been there.

You saw yourself in her. You were once the new kid and you knew how scary that was, though she seemed to be having a better time making friends than you did.

“Hi, Mary!” You greeted enthusiastically as she came closer.

“Hey.” She gave you a small smile.

“Did you end up watching Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood?”

“Oh, no…”

“Oh, that’s okay, they reshow episodes on the weekends.”

Mary nodded absentmindedly as you continued to speak about anime and everything else that you were fond of. She didn’t say anything while you spoke animatedly about them and that was when you noticed she was looking around as if she were searching for something.

There was a look in her eyes that made you stop talking. You chewed on your lip and when she looked at you with that look, you laughed nervously.

“Anyway, Johnny will be here and then we can go to the courtyard to hang out-”

“Mary!”

Both of you turned to see Holly at a distance waving to Mary. She and her friends, the Mean Girls as you and Johnny called them, were all waiting for her to join them and you made yourself smaller.

“Sorry, I have other plans.” Mary gave you an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you in fifth period.”

“Yeah…”

You watched as she ran over to the group, their laughter hit your ears and making your entire body heat up as they walked away.

You wanted to believe that they weren’t laughing about you, especially because Mary never made fun of you but when it came to the Mean Girls, it seemed like they always found a reason to make fun of you.

You hadn’t done anything wrong, so why would they laugh at you?

“Bonnie!” Johnny brought you out of your thoughts and replaced those horrible feelings.

He had a grin on his face that you mirrored as the two of you walked to the courtyard. You forgot about Mary and the Mean Girls while the two of you sat on the benches talking about all the things you both liked without judgement.

“You wanna go to the arcade after school?” Johnny wondered and you nodded.

“Uh, hell yeah. I want pizza since you’re going to lose at Mortal Kombat.”

“Yeah, right.”

Soon after the bell rang for the next period. You had a little bit of time in between break and the next period, so you made your way to the bathroom. However, just as you closed the stall door, you heard the familiar laughter of the Mean Girls.

You pressed yourself against the stall and listened to them settle at the sinks, hoping that they wouldn’t notice you were in there.

“God, she’s such a freak.” Holly said and your heart raced. “Does she think you guys are friends or something?”

“I guess so,” Mary said and the sinking feeling in your stomach grew. “She’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? She’s a weeb and she never shuts up about her stupid music or anything she likes.”

You held your hands together tightly. It wasn’t like that…at least you thought it wasn’t. You didn’t talk to most others in your class except Johnny, but maybe you were loud enough that they could hear you too. Johnny liked to talk about those things too but if others heard…

“It’s no wonder Johnny is her only friend.” One of the mean girls, Martha, laughed and your entire body shook.

“I don’t even know why he hangs out with her,” you could hear the eye roll in Holly’s voice.

“Maybe he pities her.” Mary said and it was like your heart stopped. “I do.”

“Hopefully he gets over it.”

Tears streamed down your face and it was hard to breathe. You were trying hard not to let out a sob as they began to speak about other things as if they hadn’t just torn you down. Your chest hurt and you couldn’t stop shaking.

You didn’t want to believe their words but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t have any other friends but Johnny. Since kindergarten, no one else wanted to be your friend but him, he was the only one who spent time with you or understood you. But now maybe that was because he pitied you.

He saw you as the weird new girl who had no friends and was nice enough to take the bullet.

Weird. Stupid. Freak. Crybaby.

All those insults and more raced through your head. Why were they so mean to you? What did you do to make them hate you so much?

You couldn’t hold in your cries anymore and you didn’t want to be stuck in the stall either. You shoved the door open and the Mean Girls jumped from your sudden appearance.

Mary’s face went red and she averted her gaze from you while Holly looked mostly unphased.

You didn’t say anything to them as you ran out of the bathroom with broken sobs. You found one of the janitorial closets and hid in it, letting yourself cry in the darkness even as the time passed for you to be in your next period. You knew you’d get in trouble but you didn’t care.

Johnny sat in maths class with his eyes stuck on the door. Class had started fifteen minutes ago, a class that you and him shared, yet you were nowhere to be found. You were going to get detention for this, but it wasn’t like you to skip. In fact, neither of you had ever done it before this very moment.

He knew something was wrong. He tried to downplay his worry. Maybe your parents had picked you up for a family emergency, it could happen.

And yet, he continued to stare at the door as if you’d appear at some point to the annoyance of your teacher.

“MacTavish.” The teacher caught his attention and he forced himself to sit properly in his seat. She had a stern look on her face as she gestured to the math equation on the board. “What’s the answer to this?”

Johnny studied the equation for a moment before he blurted out the answer, much to the teacher’s annoyance which he guessed was because she wanted to call him out for not paying attention.

“That’s right. It would seem that even when not paying attention, MacTavish can do algebra much better than some of you, I would suggest following in his footsteps.”

He glanced behind him when he heard a couple scoffs and saw a couple eye rolls from the other students. He focused back on his notes as he fidgeted with his pencil as he tried hard to ignore the whispers around him.

He was no stranger to the harsh words that many of his classmates said about him. For the most part he could brush them off; it was a little odd for someone to make fun of him for the fact that he got good grades and could do math faster than most in his class.

But the recent test made it a lot harder to ignore. He had been the only one to pass it, even you failed it, which pissed off a lot of classmates when the teacher reprimanded everyone but him.

Johnny tried to keep quiet. He didn’t raise his hand to answer questions, all while he stared at the door as the time passed with you nowhere in sight. However, since no one else answered he kept being called on by the teacher which only made the noises worse.

By the end of the class period, he was overly anxious about you and irritated by his classmates.

He rushed down the hallways looking for you. There was only one more class period before school was over and he couldn’t find you. He only had a little bit of time until the next class started but he didn’t want to stop looking for you.

He asked a couple other schoolmates, who all said that they hadn’t seen you or that they knew you hadn’t gone to the office, which made him worry even more.

Further down the hall he saw the Mean Girls huddled together giggling to each other and anger settled deep in him.

He made a b-line towards them, knowing that they may have done something to you especially because they were laughing like they had. He pushed past some other students, ignoring their glares as he tried to keep up with the Mean Girls before his path was blocked.

“Hey Johnny,” Matt, a classmate that he wasn’t close to since he hung out with the girls, stepped in front of him with a smile.

“It’s John.” He said shortly as tried to brush past him only for a hand to land on his shoulder.

“Whatever, I need you to do my maths homework for Monday.”

Johnny gave him an incredulous look.

“Why would I do that?” He scoffed and Matt laughed.

“Because you’re the smart kid.” He said and Johnny grimaced. “It won’t even take you that long.”

“No.”

He managed to pass him, the Mean Girls still in his sight but further down the hallway almost out of his reach before he felt a harsh tug on his bag strap. “Don’t be a fucking prick, just do my homework.” Matt demanded but Johnny took his hand off his strap. “You’re a nerd, just do it.”

“And you’re a fandan who can’t even wash himself without his mum.” He pushed him away, barely being able to hold in his anger. “Do it yourself, I’ve got better things to do than help you.”

“Like fucking that freak slag?”

Johnny froze.

Blood rushed to his ears and he shook uncontrollably. He could hardly register anything else that was happening as he turned around to look at Matt who had a petulant look on his face.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“Why else would you be hanging out with her? She’s just easy for a pretentious know-it-all like you-”

Johnny’s fist connected with Matt’s nose before he could finish his sentence. He fell on top of him as he continued to punch him with all of the strength he had, not even noticing the blood on his knuckles. Matt struggled against him, landing a few hits that felt like nothing as he continued to pummel him.

“Johnny!”

It wasn’t until a teacher had pulled him off of Matt and held him by the scruff of his shirt that he noticed you, and the other students, had surrounded him to watch as he beat Matt.

You had a concerned and shocked look on your face before the teacher dragged him in the opposite direction.

“In my office now!” The principal was rough with him before he looked at the other students. “Get to your classes.”

The next couple of hours was long for Johnny.

He spent a while in the principal's office getting reprimanded by the principal and his mother, who decided that it wasn’t enough and made the car ride back to his house full of yells.

The only thing that saved him a smack on the ear was when he explained why he had beat Matt up. Though, he still had his GameCube taken away for getting suspended for two days.

By the end of dinner, the house phone rang and he picked it up to hear your voice on the other end.

“Can we still hang out or is your mom too mad?” You wondered and he looked over his shoulder.

His mother was busy watching the TV for her to really notice him and even if she did, he was sure she wouldn’t mind. And if she did mind he would deal with the consequences later.

“Nah, we can hang. I’ll meet you at the hideout.”

When he got to the hideout you were already at the top and waved him to come inside.

Neither of you said anything as you sat your bean bags next to each other. When he sat down, his shoulder touched yours and for a long while neither of you said anything. The crickets filled the silence and though Johnny had a lot of questions about what happened to you, he stayed quiet.

“Do you pity me?” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper that he almost didn’t hear it.

Johnny’s eyes widened and he looked at you incredulously. Why would you ever think that? Did he give the impression that he did? You were his best friend, the one person he liked the most there was no reason for him to pity you.

You had a sad look on your face that made his heart feel heavy. He grabbed your wrist and held it tightly.

“No! Where’d you get that idea?” He demanded.

“The Mean Girls…they were shit talking me in the bathroom.” You explained and your voice wavered.

Johnny’s face hardened and he moved closer to you but didn’t let go of your hand even when you stared down at the floor.

“What else did they say?”

“They called me a freak because you’re my only friend. They said you had to be pitying me because why would you want to be friends with someone like me. Even Mary said she pitied me, so maybe it’s true.”

His jaw clenched tight. Part of him wished he could go back to Matt and hit him even harder for longer. It made sense that he would parrot what the Mean Girls would say and he wondered what else they were saying about you.

He didn’t get why they were so hateful towards you. It was unfair. You didn’t do anything to warrant that treatment other than move into town as an outsider. He wished he could do more about the girls than the boys that hung out with them but there was only so much he could do.

“It’s not true.” He tugged on your wrist. “You’re great! I’m your friend because we have fun hanging out.”

You sniffled and wiped a couple tears away. When you looked at him your eyes were red.

“Then why don’t I have more friends? What am I doing wrong?”

Johnny hesitated. He didn’t know why but that didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was that you were his friend and he was yours.

“Because they’re all twats.” He spat in hopes maybe you’d laugh but you didn’t.

They must’ve really gotten to you this time.

“Why did you fight Matt?” You changed the subject with tears still in your eyes.

Johnny took his hand away from your wrist. He averted his gaze from you as he thought for a moment about how he should say it. He didn’t want to tell you the real reason. How he couldn’t stand the idea that someone would think let alone say something as awful as Matt did about you and how he couldn’t control himself.

It wasn’t like this was the first time he had fought someone for you but the circumstance was different.

“He was trying to get me to do his homework and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He huffed and your eyebrows knitted together.

“That was a little much for something that small.” You pointed out and he chewed on his lip.

“Everyone was getting on my case about the maths scores again and I just snapped.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. He had been irritated by the comments they had made and if Matt had just continued to bug him about the homework he would’ve gotten angry over it, especially from the insults he threw at him.

“I don’t get why they’re mad at you for being smart.” You groaned and pounded your fists against your knees. “They’re just jealous that you’ll get into a good school and do something with your life.”

“You really think they’re jealous?” He wondered sincerely.

He really had no idea why they acted the way they did towards him. Did they think he was showing off? Or that he was trying to outdo them? He never thought of it like that until now but maybe that was the reason.

“Yeah, I do.” You said with a bite of anger in your voice. “They’re all jealous.”

Neither of you said anything as the anger slowly left the both of you. All of the hurt stayed while you leaned against his shoulder with a couple sniffles still as you wiped your nose.

“I like hanging out with you, bonnie.” Johnny said and you looked at him with an unreadable stare.

“I do too.” You said with a small laugh and he smiled.

“But I’m totally gonna beat your ass at the arcade tomorrow.”

“You wish.”

a/n: Johnny likes violence

Tags: @godihatethiswebsite @glitterypirateduck

#have a hug #intelligent soap my beloved!#also wow this chapter really said 'for me' didn't it ><;

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godihatethiswebsite · 2 months ago

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North | fox den

| Gamekeeper Simon Riley x Virgin Fem!Reader |

Gruff Simon Riley and sheltered reader. Mentions of game hunting, historical inaccuracy. Sexual tension (of course).

Masterlist | Previous Part

“Please! I need to hear all about it!”

Mary giggles, hiding her face in her hands.

“He’s such a gentlemen. He purchased flowers for me, had them tucked in the crook of his arm as we walked to lunch.”

“Does he have a name?! This mysterious suitor that buys you pretty blooms?” You tug at one of her wrists lightly, revealing one mischievous green eye.

“Kyle. Mr Kyle Garrick esquire.”

“He sounds wonderful. So romantic!”

Sat on the corner of your bed after dinner with Mary perched next to you, ostensibly you’re supposed to be preparing for bed. But this is always the time you look forward to the very most, a quiet hour in the house where you both can speak freely with minimal chance of interruption.

The light outside of the high sash windows is fading to a wonderful soft pink, long limbed and leafless trees starting to disappear in the darkness engulfing the house. A small fire warms the room, the air tinged with woodsmoke and the scent of dried lavender picked during the warmer months.

“What of you? The baron will be here soon will he not?” Mary gazes at you properly now, fixing you with a look full of intrigue. “Maybe he will be handsome and whisk you away from me? I’d wager he has his own maids.”

You wrinkle your nose.

“I’m not going anywhere without you. Regardless of the whims of a stranger.”

“It’s a good match though.” Mary replies fairly, starting to fold up several discarded cotton petticoats that formerly laid strewn across your bed.

Vacantly you hum, imagining yourself on the arm of a rich and powerful man in a different land. The thought fills you with intense sadness, wrenched from your home and tumbled around in the tides of change as a little oyster is, the pearls of memories you keep safe pried from your delicate shell and replaced with fresh ones. Ones that may not be so pleasant.

It seems so odd, the thought of leaving to be married to someone you don’t know. You had always thought you’d wed a friend at least, perhaps one of the handsome men your brother used to invite for the summer.

It strikes you that most of them never came home though, as he didn’t. Leaving only grief filled shadows on the land, spectral figures of promises unfulfilled and casting every family touched by that poison into mourning. The venom of warfare runs deep, nearly severing those ties to Europe that had once been so secure among the gentry and upper classes.

In the years after the war even debut balls had become dower affairs, so few were the eligible bachelors to present young ladies to. You don’t know if you’ll like life on the continent, already homesickness aches low in your chest like a bad head cold and you haven’t even met your suitor.

“Or do you have another fancy. One perhaps closer to home?!” Those bright orbs are crinkled with teasing mirth again. “A man of few words and fewer pleasantries!”

“Oh god! I regret ever telling you about that you know.”

Mary laughs and pats your head affectionately, before you flop onto the bed in a whirl of embarrassment. Steadily you gaze up at the ceiling, more than a few cracks working their way through the ancient plaster there, snaking towards the newer electric light fitting, tastefully designed in burnished copper.

This crumbling house you so adore, fraying at the seams but containing some of your happiest childhood days. The atmosphere might be oppressive at times, weighted expectations around your neck where a collar would sit, but for all of that you wouldn’t forgo the charm of it. The comfortable life you live here isn’t lost on you.

Your last meeting with Mr Riley had lingered far longer than it had any right to in your mind. Over and over again you felt those trunk like arms encircle you, the soft rasp of his breath in your ears accompanied by the smell of smoke and rain dampened skin. The darkness of his eyes offset by light, hazel freckles dotted along the broken bridge of his nose. Too many scars to count, including the one cleaving the thinness of his top lip.

You tell yourself the only reason he’s so attractive is that he’s different to anyone you’ve ever known, brusque and a stranger entirely to manners. No one has ever made you feel so commonplace, as if you’re a dull object abandoned in the corner and unworthy of any attention that isn’t laced with quiet mocking.

Yet still, your heart beats rapidly whenever you imagine him, pressing your legs together late at night to soothe the thrumming that rises between your thighs at just the vision of his blonde lashes swimming behind your closed lids. There’s an urgent need to seek out his withering attention, become worthy of it also. So far you’ve successfully managed to crush that desire, along with the one that makes your fingertips wander across your belly, tapping nervously against the flesh.

Mr Riley hasn’t interrupted your walks around the estate since, though once or twice you heard the cracking of branches nearby and half expected to see his hulking form appear. It made you skitter, jumping fawn like while your knees trembled, the soft sound of the wind your only companion in the wake of whatever creature stepped nearby.

Excitement prickled in the air, caught in the back of your throat sharp and cloying. Secretly, you want him to stalk you as he does the foxes on the estate, press the muzzle of his shot gun to your throat and size you up as a predator would.

His black tourmaline gaze full of hidden things, desires you dare not speak the name of out loud, because that would mean revealing the truth of your feeling. Perhaps his nose would flare at the scent of a smaller, softer creature to devour, leaving only wistful fluff and disturbed leaves as a testament to your existence.

It rages within you like a storm, your common sense a little boat tossed around in the midst of chaos. You gaze at the crack in the ceiling until your eyes burn and Mary slumps down beside you again.

“Kyle has said he’ll bring me a trinket when we next meet.” Mary grins shyly at her clasped hands, as you sit up and take one. “A necklace you think? Or a broach?”

“Or a ring?! If you wed, will you still write me?” Mary’s fingers squeeze your own warmly, comforting in only the way a friend can be.

“Of course! Of course I will.” She stares at you, eyes soft. “I would miss you entirely.”

“And I too.”

Lost in thoughts, you sit for a while. Eventually Mary bids you a quiet farewell, promising to wake you early the next morning. Even when you’re tucked within the sheets though, your mind races.

Always you’ve enjoyed the company of Mary over and above any other. She’s your confidant, one for silent giggles and shared looks during the hours you spend combined. Without her you’d feel lost. No small amount of jealousy eats at your heart at the withering thought this esteemed Mr Garrick might snatch her from you. The guilt suffocates it because Mary deserves nothing but happiness, as her friend you owe her that.

An uneasy sleep awaits, one from which you wake twitching and restless. Dawn hasn’t fully broken yet. A bird somewhere nearby is chiming up to a chorus, calling it’s little friends to join it in the navy blue skyline dotted by the tall trees that surround the house. Eventually, tossing and turning devolves into you dragging yourself from the mattress and hastily dressing, pulling open your bedroom door and creeping down to the backstairs.

Mary is usually up by now, hopefully you can bump into her in the kitchen or courtyard. Red eyed kitchen assistants and valets glance balefully at you while you walk, nodding their heads and deferentially letting you pass. How you hate that, it makes you feel so other, despite being raised by the household staff they all treat you as someone to be careful around. Like fine glass, breakable if breathed on too heavily.

Your mother used to scold you for being too friendly to everyone, until you grew clever enough to do it behind her watching gaze. Still, it would be nice not to be constantly on your best behaviour, the showy pageantry of life in a grand family never quite felt like you, always an ill fitting suit you donned with a sigh, hoisting politeness onto your features as a puppeteer does his marionette before a grand show.

You don’t find her in the servants dining room, where the last few stragglers finish their breakfast, watching you with confusion. She’s not in the kitchen either, the clattering of pots and pans is deafening, while you quietly duck behind a large oak table to avoid detection. Your families cook is a stern woman, kind to you but by all accounts rather a tartar while she’s in the throes of a meal.

Finally, you sneak outside to the large courtyard, the fresh, cool air whipping at your ankles, hastily stockinged but nowhere near wrapped up enough to stop the shivers tracing across your body. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself, knees knocking, gazing around in the dim light of an early spring morning, wondering if Mary is still tucked up in bed as you should be.

A movement catches your eye. Turning, you spot him, towering form impossible to miss, his cap pulled low across those heavy eyes. He brings a cigarette to his lips and takes a deep pull, flicking his ash on the heavy boots he wears.

It’s overcast, smoke swirls around his face. Yet still you know he’s watching you. His stare is like the brightest spotlight in the gloom, and you’re caught in it with nowhere to run.

For someone with such a clear aversion to people, Mr Riley knows entirely how to make himself visible. You get the sense that works on his terms, that he chooses when and where he appears. Almost like a spectre, haunting the grounds and your imagination with impossible translucency, hard to grasp and gone when you turn back to it in sunlight.

“Mr Riley.” He gets a curt nod as you pass him, teeth chattering.

There’s a grunt in response and you think that’s it, until his deep, amused voice rumbles after you.

“Think ya’ve lost your way my lady.” He tokes on his cigarette again, then tucks it between his thin, upturned lips, grinning at you nastily. “Lawn games won’t be on for another few months.”

You give him the most withering look you can conceivably muster up and tilt your nose to the sky. Mother always says poise and grace deflects any low insult.

“Very funny.”

He guffaws, his shovel-like hands stuffed into his pockets, lounging against a wall casually. You glance over him, taking in the white scar that carves his upper lip in two, the way his freckles sing above the brown tweed of his suit, set against his fair skin in a coordinated constellation across his off-centre nose.

“Bit cold for a walk innit?! Or you tryin to make a break for it?”

“I was looking for someone - not you I hasten to add.”

Mr Riley ashes his butt beneath a mud spattered heel, still capturing your gaze within his own deep coloured one. It’s glittering with enjoyment, no doubt because you’ve risen to his bait. You should have just carried on inside, instead you’re caught within his snare now, butterflies tumbling foolishly within your stomach.

“Why are you here Mr Riley?” You watch him observe you while your heart burns, every cell within you announcing a trap sure to spring by engaging him.

“Wanted fresh air.” He mimics your words from the last meeting in the lane carefully, straightening to his considerable height and stepping towards you. Unbidden you hold your ground, until he stands beside you, so broad you can’t take anything in but him. “Tha’ and I got to bring the game up for cook ain’t I.”

“More poor creatures massacred at the barrel of your shot gun?”

“Yeah.” He replies flatly, toying with his silver lighter. You recognise it from the first time you saw him, the engraving almost scratched off one side. The flame flares to life, then recedes while the smell of the igniting fluid within it reaches your nose. “Soft little things like you.”

“I’m not soft.”

But your voice shakes, the burden of his stare almost makes your knees buckle, irises sun warmed black fading to amber around the very furthest edges. His lip quirks and that scar dances upwards, just a hint of pale stubble on his cheekbones. There’s another silver line slicing his eyebrow, peeking out beneath his cap.

“No? Ya look it.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“Doubtful in your case…m’lady.”

“Every time I meet you Mr Riley, I’m reminded why I don’t spend more time in your company.”

Embarrassed and slightly crushed, you start to back away, trying not to fall over your skirts and provide him with more ammunition to tease you. You hear him chuckle in his throat, rasping and dry, as if someone once tried to choke that sound out of him. The back of your neck prickles with irritation, you’d quite like to wring his neck yourself, anything to wipe the smirk off his dower face.

Just before you can reach the kitchen door however, he calls out. The timbre of his voice suddenly sharp in the quiet yard.

“Wan’ come see tha’ foxes with me tonight?”

Your mouth opens with a little pop, shock unable to wrestle it closed as you turn towards him.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t need to be sorry. Found em foxes I was tellin you about. Do yous wanna come an look?”

Blinking, you stare at him. Then you speak without the permission of your brain. Pure insidious instinct working your vocal chords.

“Yes.”

He nods shortly, glancing around to ensure no one else is listening in.

“Don’t tell no one an don’t wear them silly shoes. I’ll come for ya at nine, wait here.”

Then as quickly as his words echo in the breeze, Mr Riley turns and departs, broad back rounding while he stomps away.

You stand there for far longer, until you cannot see him, until the cold starts to bring you to your senses. Mary will know what to do, doubtless she’s waiting upstairs for you, probably puzzling your vacant bed.

“Where have you been!” She jumps violently, stood in the centre of your room as you slide back into it, trying not to let the door creak too much. “I thought you’d been abducted in the night!”

“It’s worse than that I’m afraid.” Gravely you whisper at her while she eyes you. “I need to ask a favour.”

The entire day you’re consumed by thoughts of it, jumping at small noises and examining each frown your mother sends your way. By the time dinner rolls around, you’re quivering with excitement, nearly spilling soup over yourself and instead dousing the cotton of the table settings with it.

Your mother glances at you several times after that indiscretion, asking if you’re feeling well, whether you have an illness coming. You do feel hot, fevered pulses running under the surface of your skin.

But all of that can be attributed to the evening you’re about to spend with Mr Riley. A stolen and forbidden time spent wandering the grounds in the early years moonlight, just you and him. It’s exciting, feeds a blissfully thrilling story you’d love to weave in and out of, running through a dappled romance as you would a grove of shaded trees, living a fantasy turned to flesh from the sultry books hidden behind the panel of your wardrobe.

Cold water douses you when you’re reminded of how coarse he is. How silly he must think you and your expensive satin pumps from Paris. But still, hope thrives and flourishes because he asked you to sneak out and meet him. The man who doesn’t seem to crave company, is apparently content with yours for the night.

A nasty thought only occurs to you when you’re tugging on the leather shoes Mary has lent you, a second low heeled and sensible pair she uses occasionally for trips into town. What if Mr Riley does have secret liaisons with others? You’ve heard the kitchen maids gossiping about him, how tall and strong he is, what a brooding and mysterious aura he holds. Maybe you’re a distraction from another he’s seeking to pursue, or worse, perhaps a joke he wants to indulge in.

Nervously you watch the clock over the mantelpiece, an ugly, gilt thing who’s ticking seems awfully loud in your ears. You try and crush the anxiety you feel with cool logic, but it still burns like glowing coals.

By the time you cross the now dark kitchen, treading on the toes of Mary’s shoes so that the heels don’t clack noisily, your stomach is churning. Opening the back door softly, you half expect to see him waiting and ready to pounce, those sharp teeth you sense lurking just beneath his dreadful manners bared and foam covered.

Except he’s nowhere in sight and foolishness starts to beat in your ears, hot and fearful. You let out a small sniff, peeking into the corners and fighting the temptation to run back up to your room and sob into your pillow.

“Y’havin second thoughts over there?”

Your gaze is drawn to him once again as he strides from the shadows, broad shoulders squared as the cherry of his cigarette burns brightly, furious red set against his pale skin drained of even more colour in the darkness.

“No. Do you have to lurk in corners? It’s thoroughly off putting.”

“S’not very nice is it. Callin me off putting.” His voice holds a teasing quality, the same one that instantly makes you squirm in your slip. Quite why it has that effect on you, you’re not sure.

“Apologies.”

Trying to be gracious in-spite of your lingering unease, you step towards him. Mr Riley takes in your practical footwear, completed by a tough woollen skirt draped to your ankles and warm cashmere jumper with a sweet collar, usually worn out on shoots. The silken fabric is thinly woven, enough so your nipples are visable as hard buds. Your cloche hat is pulled neatly over your hair, tucking your ears beneath the felt. You eye him warily.

“It was the best I could do I’m afraid.” Gesturing to your clothes, you see a rye half smile curling his thin mouth.

“Y’look quite the country lady.” He tilts his head, it’s so dim his black eyes look almost cavernous above you. You can’t read the look upon his face, though you wish you could.

“Is that approval I sense?” You grin at him for the first time in memory. He makes a strange noise, somewhere between a cough and a chuckle.

“Somethin like that.”

There’s a short awkward moment between you both, a palpable sense of tension simmering in the molecules you don’t recognise. It’s similar to the memory of his steadying grip on your forearm in the lane, though his body isn’t as close. It makes you want to shorten the gap, stumble again so he has to reach out and save you.

Frantically you try and cover up your uncertainty, concentrating on your feet. Mr Riley clears his throat.

“Let’s go then...my lady.”

Giddily you follow his shadow, cutting behind the house and skirting into the fringes of the woods set behind it. Just before the trees start to thicken and the blackness of night intensifies, Mr Riley comes to a halt, flicking on a small torch.

“Can take my arm if yous like.” He speaks gruffly, words short and rough sounding. “Don’t wan’ you to trip.”

You tuck your hand into the crook of one thick elbow, feeling the muscles there tense and bunch, warmth bleeding between you from his jacket until it meets your flesh. He coughs again harshly, then quite gently steers you forwards.

On you step, whispering noises echoing in the woods as sticks snap and leaves crunch beneath your feet. It’s seems your walking for hours, Mr Riley’s towering form at your side, pure bulk and sinew navigating the brush easily while you tread cautiously. In reality only minutes linger between you, though each one has your heart thundering.

Finally, you reach a clearing, a bright, fresh moon peaking shyly through the clouds above, mimicking the nerves you feel at being alone in the wild with this man you can’t unpick the meaning of.

He unwinds your arms and takes off his jacket, laying it over a felled trunk and gesturing for you to take a seat. You go to speak, but he presses a finger to his lips and shakes his head shortly. You sit, damp, cool air sharp in your lungs. Mr Riley crouches at your side, taking in the space before him, eyes narrowed with fair lashes concealing the charcoal of his irises.

You wait and watch, until he grunts and points towards a huge upturned oak, its gnarled roots uncovered and spiralling into the air in a silent shriek that seems frozen there. Several large rocks are set around its base, but between the gaps you see her.

Yellow lamp like eyes, two pointed ears and reddish brown fur that is washed of colour in the moonlight. Calmly the vixen steps out from between the stones, coming up from the trees roots with practised ease. She stops, sniffs the air and turns her sharp gaze to where you both wait, partially concealed. A heartbeat passes where you’re sure she’ll disappear again, but she lets out a short yip instead, turning her attention to the ground.

From her back legs two fluffy kits emerge, their eyes more muted, skittishly bounding and crying in small barks at their mothers feet.

You press a hand to your mouth with joy, gazing happily at the scene playing out there. The babies tumble with each other, snapping short teeth while their mother sniffs at the earth, yelps and squeaks breaking the quiet when they get too rough. Occasionally one nudges its mother playfully, causing her to snap at them and send them bounding away.

Unable to tear your eyes away, you watch the vixen round up her children, chiding them with chitters as she steers them out into the forest to hunt. You stare at their departing forms for some time, until the evening swallows them whole, disguised in the night away from the clearing.

It takes a moment for you to realise Mr Riley is watching you, rather than the place the kits frolicked. You spy his glances, ones he tries to hide when you catch him. As your eyes meet his lips quirk upwards slightly.

Without speaking he offers you an elbow. The walk back to the kitchens is completed in silence, you lost entirely in thoughts of fluffy foxes, how quiet and soft their den must be. It would be nice to curl up there you think, safe with a mother who’s fur is thick and who only corrects you when you nip her.

Your heels clatter softly on the cobbles of known land, Mr Riley steering you into the shadows again.

“Thank you. That was wonderful!”

“S’alright. Thought you’d like em.” Faintly awkwardly, he shuffles his boots, your body still flush with his. “Ya best get in, don’t want no one to find you out here with tha likes of me.”

“Right.”

The spell is broken. Unwinding yourself and stepping back, you watch his brusque demeanour settle into place. Except you don’t want it to, you’d far prefer the drowsiness of his lids and the gentleness of his expression while he sat at your side to remain.

“Mr Riley?” He makes a small huff of acknowledgment low in his throat. “You won’t shoot them…will you?”

He blinks a few times.

“Nah. Course not ya daft thing.”

That makes you laugh and he looks pleased by it. Without thinking, you stand on tiptoe and press your lips to his scarred cheek. The scent of smoke clings to his skin, alongside the dampness of faint sweat. So masculine, far rougher than anything you’ve encountered previously but more addictive by far.

Unbidden one of his paws fastens around your wrist, holding you pressed to him. Hardly breathing, his nose skims yours, mouth barely brushing your own, something animal and forbidden nips at your belly, heat pooling there as if a wave of lapping water is starting to rise to a boil.

A clatter sounds from above as a window is opened in the attic of the house. Just like that the moment is over. Mr Riley is a sensible distance away, a big hand on your lower back as he nudges you towards the kitchen door.

“Go on.” He rasps. “Into tha house.”

You do as your told, scuttling back up the rickety stairs and sneaking along corridors.

When you undress for the night, you’re entirely disconcerted that the simmering current in your body seems to be spilling over, a wetness seeping between your thighs uncomfortably that you haven’t encountered before.

It takes several hours to calm down, by which time your undergarments are miserably damp.

@cutiecusp @pxssygxblin @lilynotdilly @wizzdot @blush-haze

#have a hug #fuck girl you already know the things your writing does to me #the absolute indecent thoughts in my head refuse to let my body cool off #he's just the right amount of brutish asshole that just wants to play with the soft thing that keeps sniffing around

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godihatethiswebsite · 2 months ago

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Mourning Doves

✽Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x f!reader

Johnny provides you with some comfort after your favorite hockey team loses

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

This is a little drabble I wrote for me and @ohbo-ohno after we both suffered grievous losses in the Stanley Cup playoffs tonight. I know we're supposed to be in mourning, but the brain bunnies demanded comfort so I stayed up late and wrote it myself ❤️

Also I'm biased so it's our favorite Scotsman

"I'm going to die."

"Yer not goin' tae die."

"Bury me in the garden underneath the willow tree."

"Ye havnae gone there since ya ran into that spiderweb last summer."

"The spider can have my carcass."

"Now yer jus' being a numpty."

Your face was still buried in the pillow from where you put it fifteen minutes ago, the rest of your body sprawled out on your stomach with your right arm and leg dangling off the couch like a limp ragdoll. He'd returned home to find you like this after a late night spent with the team, expecting to find you asleep by the time he got home from the bar since it was now well after midnight. Instead, he's greeted with the sight of your theatrics to having watched your favorite hockey team - the Denver Brown Bears - defeated in double overtime by the Austin Tigers.

Johnny located the remote you must've tossed in your grief and turned the TV off, setting it on the coffee table before kneeling down next to your form, running his knuckles up and down your hanging limb. "There now, hen. Dunnae fret. Ye'll get 'em next year, ah'm sure of it."

Turning your head to the side, he finally got to see the sunken expression marring your beautiful face; bloodshot eyes overflowing with tears, face flushed and splotchy from crying. You'd tried to put on a brave facade with your earlier banter, but it was obvious now that you were struggling. This was more than just a minor upset - his girl was genuinely hurting.

His brows furrowed and heart dropped in his chest to see you so devastated. He knew how much this had meant to you, the unbridled joy and excitement he'd seen you display the past few weeks as your team made it into the playoffs had only endeared him to you even more. Oh sure, he'd ribbed you for it playfully whenever he saw you curled up in the living room wearing the Bears goalie's jersey animatedly cheering on your team and throwing popcorn at a bad call, but truthfully he'd loved getting to see you so spirited, especially knowing the rough patch you'd been going through lately. Hockey had been a good distraction and it was a shame the season had to end like this for you.

He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, damped by the moisture and sticking to your skin before moving it back behind your ear. The quiet broken whimper as he touched your cheek had him reacting on instinct, rolling you onto your side so that he could lift you up into his arms, cradling you to his chest as your hand fisted his shirt like a child would seeking comfort. What tears had slowed over time began anew now that you had him here, needing his steadiness and warmth to ground you from the onslaught of emotions pulling you down below the waves. He kept his voice soft and tone reassuring, letting you seek solace in his familiar embrace.

"Shhhh... s'alright, mo chridhe. Ah'm here. Ah've got ye..."

Carrying you down the hall, he carefully toed the bedroom door open, slipping inside the darkened room before closing it behind him with his heel. He stepped over the wrinkled clothes on the floor as he made his way over to the bed, never stopping his comforting noises as you continued to hiccup out tears, ruining his shirt with wetness from where your face stayed pressed against his collarbone.

Johnny perched himself on the edge of the bed, settling you more comfortably in his lap as the arm that had been tucked under your knees moved to rub circles into your back. He let you get all your emotions out, content to just hold you safe until the worst of it had passed. It tore at his insides to see you so depressed, wishing it was a problem he could get his hands on instead of feeling so useless for you. He'd never been very good at sitting idly by, the beast under his skin itching for a fight he could walk away bloodied from. If it wasn't for the baser need to be here for you, there's a good chance he'd be on his phone right now trying to convince the lads to take a day trip down to Austin with him for some retribution for making his girl weep.

But no. Putting his fists into an entire hockey team wouldn't change the outcome of tonight. Johnny knew you simply had to let time take it's course and eventually make it easier for you to move on past your grief.

Once your cries had quieted and tears lessened, he'd gently maneuvered you off his lap and onto the mattress, pressing a firm kiss to the crown of your head before walking over to the dresser and rooting around for something more comfortable to wear. He ignored the quiet sniffles behind him as he worked quickly to rid himself of his clothes, changing into a pair of sweats and an old army shirt before joining you back by the bed. You let him tug the Bears jersey up over your head, keeping your arms raised as he replaced it with one of his soft shirts you often loved to steal from him, dragging your pants off your legs before pulling back the comforter and motioning you to climb in.

Once you got situated in your spot, Johnny curled up right next to you and pulled you back into his hold, head resting on his chest as your limbs tangled together under the sheets. He made sure you were tucked in all nice and snuggly, heart fluttering at the familiar sensation of you nuzzling your face into him and breathing in his scent. You were still upset at the loss, but it was easier to deal with wrapped up in your lover's arms.

There weren't many problems that being with Johnny couldn't fix; he was your pillar, your rock, the one thing in this world that could find you in the darkest of depths and drag you from it's clutches up towards the surface. He radiated pure light in a way that even after all this time together still left you in total awe. He liked to say he wasn't a good man - that you deserved someone made of softer materials with less blood on their hands - but he didn't understand it no matter how hard you tried to explain.

You didn't need soft. You needed someone made of iron and shattered teeth that could fight back your inner demons. Someone with scarred knuckles and split lips who knew how to mend the tattered edges of your soul because they already had the experience stitching themselves back together with needle and thread.

So on nights like tonight when you couldn't fight your own battles...

"I really wanted them to win..."

"Ah ken, love. Ah ken. But jus' think how hard they fought fer ye. Dinnae go down easy that's fer damn sure. Be proud of yer boys, love. It's cuz of bonny lasses like yerself that they had the support and strength to get as far as they did. They'll come back swingin' - and when they do, they'll naught ask fer a better fan cheerin' them on."

...you knew you had someone right there beside you to throw the first punch and shield your body with his own.

And if you ever asked him to, he'd glady show those Tigers what happens when they encounter a pack of wolves

#self reblog #thinking about this #the stanley cup playoffs just started today and my boys aren't in it this year #needed some comfort thinking about my poor bruins

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godihatethiswebsite · 2 months ago

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*throws a donut at you* 🍩💨

-🐙

I'd retaliate but I'm too hungry to throw it back

#spill the tea #no but you genuinely just gave me the biggest craving #love me a boston cream #hold the cream and add johnny *cough cough*

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godihatethiswebsite · 2 months ago

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omg I got so excited to see you back!!! also the pitt has temporarily? (debatable honestly) taken over my entire brain I can’t get enough of it

Thank you lovely! 🩷 brain is still the fogged but its a little less fogged at the moment

See normally I hate medical shows cuz I'm a giant squeamish wuss puss, but the way they've written this one feels less like a tv drama and more like a study in competency kink

#spill the tea #ngl i literally caved on watching it cuz i thought the main dude was hot and the curiosity to simp was too powerful #don't ask how many times i've rewatched it while its been airing

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godihatethiswebsite · 2 months ago

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#do we think it'll be a husky or a fox? i'm leaning husky myself #also if you haven't watched this show please do so immediately

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godihatethiswebsite · 2 months ago

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Forever Bonds

Pairing: cbf!soap x f!reader

Warnings: slight angst but like they're kids, fluff, johnny being a good friend

Words: 1.9k

Synopsis: Summer is here but Johnny has to leave...

You sat at your desk with the math assignment in front of you and the urge to throw your textbooks across the room. Math was never one of your strong suits and despite the fact that it seemed simple for everyone else in your fifth grade class, you struggled your way into earning Cs.

A soft groan left your mouth as you set your pencil down and looked at Johnny who sat at the desk beside you.

He was preoccupied with drawing something on a spare piece of paper which made you frown even more. Of course he was done with his assignment before everyone else and you’d believe it if he told you that he got it done within five minutes of being handed it.

You glanced around the classroom to see everyone else diligently working on their assignments. It was supposed to be a quiet time but that didn’t stop your classmates from talking to each other in hushed voices while the teacher pretended not to notice.

“Johnny,” You waved to get his attention and he glanced at you. “Help me.”

“On what part?” He didn’t look up from his drawing until you held out your assignment for him to take.

“One through fifteen.”

“All of them?”

You gave him a pleading look as if he would refuse before he took the paper from you. You smiled and watched as he copied his answers onto your paper without a second thought.

“How’d you do it so fast?” You wondered as he handed you back your assignment.

“Because I’m smart.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

You set your assignment aside and looked at the drawing that he had been working on.

It was a drawing of the landscape around his house. Even at the age of ten, he had enough skill to draw a detailed version of the rolling hills and the woods on the edge of the small farm he lived on.

You rested your chin on your hand as you watched him touch up the drawing with content.

“You should get a new sketchbook.” You said as you pulled out another piece of paper and handed it to him when he had finished.

“I have to save up more money,” he began to draw. “I used up all my allowance to go to camp.”

Your eyebrows knitted together and you straightened up in your seat as your stomach churned ever so slightly.

“You’re actually going?” You wondered and he looked at you with confusion.

“Yeah…I talked to mam and she said I could go if I used my own money for it.” He explained and you slumped in your chair.

“Oh.”

A summer science camp had been offered to the fifth graders this year to show off some of the fun things that science can offer, as the sponsor had explained, and though you weren’t super interested in what the camp had to offer, Johnny had practically fallen out of his desk with excitement. That was when you realized that he got excited about other kinds of explosions other than the fireworks you saw on New Year’s.

Johnny had begged his mother to let him go but she wouldn’t budge. You didn’t ask your mother because you knew she would say no since you didn’t like science and since it seemed like he wasn’t going to go you weren’t worried about it.

But now he was leaving for the entire summer for the first time since you had known him and for some reason that made you want to make yourself smaller.

“She told me last night.” He added and his face fell. “I was gonna tell you before the sponsor came back for the money.”

Guilt washed over you and as much as you hated the feeling that settled within you, you gave him a small reassuring smile because of how excited it made him.

“It’s okay.” You shrugged. “It’s only for three weeks anyway.”

“Maybe you can ask your mum if you can come.” He suggested and you nodded without a word.

You knew it would be a lost cause but you didn’t want to make him feel bad. They would surely tell you no even if you begged them.

What were you going to do without him? Would he make more friends and leave you behind? What if he thought it was too fun and decided to stay?

When the sponsor came in to collect the money you didn’t really pay attention to anything that he said. In fact, for the rest of the day you were distracted by your own thoughts even when the school day was over.

Johnny must’ve noticed on the walk back to your house because as soon as you both set foot on your street he smacked your shoulder.

“Race ya to the hideout!” He shouted before sprinting off towards the woods.

“No fair, that’s a head start!” You raced after him.

The two of you ran to the woods, kicking up dust as the treeline got closer and you caught up to Johnny. You jumped over the tiny creeks in the ground that acted as a barrier between your home and the sanctuary that was the woods around it. Soon the trees blocked out the sun and the dead leaves crunched under your feet as the two of you ran through the woods towards your hideout.

Johnny touched the tree that your hideout was built on and you folded over in defeat as you panted.

“You cheated!” You gripped your knees as you gasped for air.

“No I didn’t, you just run slow.” He teased between breaths and you sent him a glare.

“Whatever.”

You threw your backpack on the ground and climbed up the ladder into the house. It was roughly made by the two of you from stealing wood and tools from Johnny’s family farm and using any spare decorations you could find in your family’s storage. Slowly the two of you brought anything that you could carry and fit inside before it became almost a second home for you both.

You grabbed the stereo and turned it onto whatever CD that had been left inside.

“Can we listen to something else?” Johnny groaned as he flopped on one of the bean bags dramatically.

“Change it yourself.” You sat in a different bean bag and grabbed the box of friendship bracelet materials, knowing that he wouldn’t get up to do it.

You searched for the bracelet you were nearly finished with and began to work on it. For a moment neither of you said anything, sitting in each other's comfortable silence until Johny spoke.

“Did you know that

“How do you know that?”

“This book. Apparently this is what they’re going to talk about in camp.”

“Oh…”

He continued to spout off more fun facts that you could hardly pay attention to as the anxiety from before crawled back up into your stomach and took is hostage. You felt bad about how anxious it made you feel and for wanting him to stay but you were so uncertain about what would happen when he left.

You stewed in your own mind while you finished the bracelet before he called out your name.

When you looked up at him, he had a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” He wondered and you fidgeted with the bracelet.

You weren’t sure if you should tell him or not. You didn’t want to make him upset, but with the way he was already looking at you, you realized that he would be regardless if you told him or not. You didn’t want to worry him and make him feel worse.

Your heart raced and you avoided his stare.

“I don’t want you to go to camp.”

Johnny was quiet but you couldn’t look up at him as you stared at the bracelet between your fingers.

“Why?” He sounded sad and it made you frown even more.

Your voice got stuck in your throat and you shrugged. You didn’t know how to explain all of the emotions you felt and how to say them without hurting him or without crying.

However, tears had already formed and when Johnny sat next to you, your shoulders touching as he nudged you, the tears blurred your vision.

“What if you forget about me?” Your voice quavered and heat washed over your face as tears ran down your face. You were a crybaby and you felt stupid for how you felt as you held back sobs. “What if we stop being friends?”

“Why would I stop being friends with you?” He wondered with a concerned look on his face.

“Because this would be the first time we’ll be apart since we’ve known each other!”

Johnny pulled you into a tight hug that you reciprocated. He let you cry as he held you before he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. He had a determined look as sure as day while he stared at you

“We’re always gonna be friends,” he stated firmly and you wiped your eyes. “And I won’t forget you, promise.”

“Really?” You sniffled and he nodded with a grin.

Johnny got up and raced towards a box near his bean bag. He rummaged through it before he pulled out a friendship bracelet like the one that you held tightly in your hand, and kneeled in front of you.

You had assumed that he was still working on it but of course, in true John MacTavish fashion, he had finished his way before you finished yours.

He took your wrist and tied it tight around it to make sure it wouldn’t fall off. When he was done he outstretched his own wrist and you tied his around it with teary eyes.

“Now we’ll remember each other while I’m gone.” He said before he studied the bracelet you made.

A soft smile spread across his face as he rubbed it between his fingers which prompted you to look down at yours.

It consisted of your favorite colors in an intricate pattern from the booklet that your mom had bought, one that you thought was pretty but couldn’t manage to make on your own. Even though it was meant to represent you, you managed to see Johnny in it.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief.

When you looked back at Johnny he had a sort of sad look on his face that made you tilt your head as he sat next to you.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he admitted and you frowned. “You can’t convince your parents to let you go?”

You shook your head.

“They know I wouldn’t enjoy it…even if we went together.”

He sighed before he leaned against you and you did the same to him.

“Mam’s letting me take a camera, I’ll take lots of photos for you.” He said and you nodded.

You were glad that he wouldn’t move on or forget about you and that he was even going to think about you while he was gone. It was going to suck that you were going to be alone while he was gone, you knew you were going to be bored out of your mind while he was gone but you felt a little safer knowing he’d come back.

“I’ll make sure to tell you what you miss.” You told him and he smiled.

“Good, and when I get back we can make up the lost time during my birthday.” He sprung up from his seat and took the CD out of the stereo. He put a different one in and you rolled your eyes at the choice. “Now for some better music.”

You scoffed and retorted but did so with a smile on your face.

part 3

A/n: i want y'all to get bridge of tarabithia vibes from this but like in the whimsy way not the dead best friend way

Tags: @godihatethiswebsite @glitterypirateduck

#have a hug #omg the friendship bracelets i can't TwT #love how precious everything is when they're kids #starting young with the pyrotechnics i see #still so happy this drabble series is getting a proper expansion

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