#always trying to prove himself and to one-up john

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

[starsofang]

simon riley x autistic!reader requested by anon! <3 tw: none!

When a certain John Price had recruited you under his own jurisdiction, you were cautious yet excited to be joining a new task force. It was an opportunity you simply couldn’t pass up, and you’d be insane to say no. Price had promised you would fill in the gap that seemed to be missing from their team, and for the most part, he was absolutely correct.

Gaz and Johnny were the most welcoming in the beginning. Price was more the serious type with an occasional bad joke here and then, but all in all, everybody approved of you and had your back so long as you had theirs.

None of them seemed to mind when you’d have days where you’d be talkative on one, and quiet the next. They’d listen to your passionate ramblings on specific topics, or they’d allow you to sit in comfortable silence if they knew you needed it.

There was one person in particular who didn’t seem quite fond of you, and that would be Ghost – or Simon, as Johnny called him on occasion. It wasn’t that he didn’t seem to like you, no. He just seemed distant, purposefully keeping you at an arm’s length and only acknowledging you when necessary.

Johnny had told you not to worry about it, that he’d come around eventually. Simon was impartial to new people and it took him a while to open up.

You did notice, though, that Simon was someone who stared. One too many times, you’d catch those brooding eyes boring into you, as if trying to puzzle you together and figure out where the pieces fit. It would always cause a bit of anxiety to well in you when you’d find his eyes across the room, already locked in on you, and you would find yourself avoiding his stare as soon as you felt it.

It wasn’t until a particular mission had gone bad that you completely shut down. In the presence of your new task force, you had successfully masked yourself as much as possible. But now, when Johnny had nearly been killed, all due to an error in your own judgment, that mask was slipping off and you needed time to let it crumble on your own.

You thought that was all you needed – time. But time proved fruitless as you spent the next few days on lockdown, avoiding all conversation and interaction. Your eyes would stray to the ground, or you’d find yourself staring blankly at the walls of the mess hall with your nails picking at the skin around them from beneath the table.

You didn’t think anybody noticed. After all, everybody was on edge and decompressing from the failed mission, and they didn’t have the focus to see your mind eating you up.

Simon did, though.

He’d seen all the signs, from the way you picked at your nails, to the way you’d consistently tuck your hair behind your ear, even if it was already tucked, and to the way you’d tap your foot along the ground in a repetitive motion, leg bouncing wildly underneath the table during breakfast or debriefs.

At first, none of it made sense to him. He thought it was simple signs of anxiety, and for that, he truly thought that if one bad massion made you close up this much, you wouldn’t last long enough to see a second one. But when he returned to his quarters and searched up all of your stims that he’d taken mental notes of over the course of the week, things clicked.

He didn’t know much about autism. To his embarrassment, you were the first person with autism that he’d actively been around on a daily basis. Everything he’d seen made complete sense, and that last puzzle piece he was trying so hard to fit seemed to fall right into place.

Simon took it upon himself to educate himself. He, too, had his own struggles that not many people had an understanding of, and now that he knew what made sense, he didn’t want you to continue hiding yourself away for the sake of the rest of the team.

It started off small.

When Simon would notice you picking at your fingernails, he’d place a large hand over yours to stop you without sparing a glance in your direction. If he wasn’t there to stop you, he’d silently wrap your fingers up in cute bandages he purchased himself, because he noticed you liked them more than the typical brown ones.

If he noticed you zone out and lose a piece of yourself, where your eyes would find the walls and focus in on them as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, he’d gently grab your shoulder with means to snap you out of it and remind you that he was there with you.

At first, you were surprised when Simon began showing you these subtle signs of companionship. He hadn’t shown any interest in you up until this point, but as time went on, you found yourself actively seeking out that safe space that Simon was slowly building for you.

You crawled your way out of that hole you found yourself in and began returning to normalcy; except now, you didn’t feel you had to mask all the time.

When you returned to your rambling moments, your hand would subconsciously find its way to Simon’s, grasping and fiddling with his fingers while you spoke. He’d never pull his hand away, and instead, he’d sit there quietly with his full attention on you, eyes soft and affectionate from beneath his mask.

Often times, when he’d head to the mess hall to grab a snack or a drink for himself, he began to bring you something back as well – cookies, chips, you name it. If he knew you liked it, he’d snag a couple of whatever it was and place it in front of you without a word (and would absolutely ignore Johnny’s childish whines of how he never did that for him).

This back and forth between the two of you didn’t go unnoticed, and when Gaz nudged Johnny when the three of them sat in the debrief room together, claiming that Simon had a crush, he didn’t blatantly deny it.

Simon wasn’t sure what it was he felt for you. He wanted to see you happy, that he knew for sure, but when Gaz and Johnny continued to feed into their teasing remarks, he was beginning to think that, okay, yeah, maybe he had a bit of a crush.

It took him months to even proclaim this confession to you. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, or god forbid you didn’t feel the same way, didn’t want you to close up on him like you had with others before. Being your safe space was something he took pride in, and for a man who had no knowledge months ago on how to approach you in a way that showed he understood, he didn’t want to ruin that.

That wasn’t at all what happened, though. When he had the gall to tell you, you were practically bursting at the seams. Hands moving wildly, feet causing you to bounce with excitement as you eagerly confessed your own feelings for him. He was scared your lips were crack open from how widely you were smiling and babbling on about your affection.

And when he had the chance to kiss you? He did it with so much tenderness, keeping it as gentle as possible, hands only cupping your cheeks when you told him it was okay.

You had never met someone who was so passionate about you, that they’d learn everything about you. He knew your quirks, your hyperfixations, your interests, your stims. He knew more about you than he did himself at this point.

To have somebody cherish you in such a way that they’d go that far for you, even when they themselves aren’t partial to getting attached to people, it was all Simon ever hoped to make you feel, and it was all you ever wanted to feel understood and accepted.

Simon would happily assure you of that any day.

—

thank u for this idea anon!! i really hope it lived up to your standards, i tried to make it as accurate as possible while trying not to make the stims too specific and detailed since i know many people have different ones and that autism is not linear! <3 please enjoy fluffy simon because he’s my favorite

[kenanda]

I'd commit literal crimes for a malevolent modern world AU in which yellow and john are twins

[soapsbaby]

Take the hint

Summary: The CoD guys and Valeria's reaction to you being hit on at a club.

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x gn!reader Rating: SFW Word count: 800ish

Ghost

He gets jealous really easily, he doesn’t like sharing you at all. Still, usually he’ll just stand somewhere where he can see you well, arms crossed in front of his chest and waiting for you to reject the person.

The moment you’re with him again he’ll have an arm tightly around you, pulling you as closely to him as he can, proving to himself that he is the only one who gets to do this with you.

If the person is too persistent he will go into guard dog mode. He would absolutely break someone’s bones for you.

Soap

He gets jealous too, but he always tries his very best to not show it. He knows in his core that he is your one and only and would never betray him so he will just push the feeling down and look forward to you being back by his side.

He will absolutely make fun of the other person once it’s just the two of you, can’t believe a guy like that thinks he could get with you… So delusional, hm? 

König

He doesn’t really go out much in the first place and when he does, he is pretty much attached to you at the waist and no one dares hit on you when you are with that mountain of a man.

If it does happen, because you went to quickly grab a drink or went to the bathroom, he will start spiraling quickly. He already has a lot of anxiety about you leaving him and the moment he sees you speaking with someone else his alarm bells go off, that it’s finally happening and he won’t be the one you’ll go home with today.

He wants to intervene, but he doesn’t dare to, he can just watch, but he feels better immediately when you finally get rid of the other person, rolling your eyes and giving König a bright grin, mouthing “what a weirdo” towards him and immediately get on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. 

He’ll make sure to not let go of your hand for the rest of the night and be as affectionate as possible. 

Price

He’s super relaxed about it, just standing in the corner sipping his beer and waiting for you to deal with it. He finds it incredibly attractive how well you handle yourself.

He also takes it as a compliment that other people find you that attractive, but of course he is the one you ultimately go back home with.

Can’t blame them, honey. You look out of this world.

Gaz

He tries to not let it bother him, but it always does. He is always afraid you’ll leave him and he has had some bad experiences in the past with other people that sensitized him to it.

You know about that so you always make sure to shut down the other person as quickly as possible to get back to his side again.

You can tell that he is unhappy when you come back but once you pull him in for a kiss, still in view of the person who hit on you, he feels better immediately. 

Valeria

The types of places she takes you out to are full of people that know you belong to her and wouldn’t dare hit on you. You stay by her side anyway so there is barely any chance for someone to try and hit on you.

If it does happen she gets very possessive. Has pulled a gun on someone who got inappropriate with you before and would absolutely do it again. 

Rudy

He will watch on with a grin. He trusts you completely and he knows you’ll handle it.

If the other person is too persistent, he might get involved, a cold smile on his lips as he yells across the bar. Sorry, dude. They’re not into blonds. Believe me, I’d know. 

Will be extremely relaxed up until the point where he sees you get uncomfortable with the other person’s behavior. He will get really heated when he sees you struggle and has beaten up someone before, smashing them against the bar and hissing at them to get some damn manners before he breaks their ribs. 

Alejandro

Alejandro knows you can deal with it yourself but he still likes to be present as a safety net so you don’t have to feel on your own in case things go wrong.

Usually will come up to you and just listen in, putting an arm around your waist if you seem uncomfortable. Usually the other person gets the hint by then but if not he’ll get involved. 

[adnauseum11]

H.E.S.H. (High Explosive Squash Head) (John Price x Reader)

You wake up with John and get your day started with a bang.

This is just pure unadulterated smut. MDNI.

1.5k words

CW: swearing, graphic depiction of oral sex

feedback welcome

HESH is an acronym for a British anti-tank round

You wake up way too hot, and immediately realize the folly of your ways the previous night. John Price is a bloody furnace, and at some point in the night ditched his shirt, leaving the expanse of his hairy chest exposed. Apparently even in sleep your subconscious is undeniably attracted to him because you’ve plastered yourself against his side despite the heat of the man. Your palm is resting on his sternum, rising and falling with his steady breathing. Your leg is shamelessly thrown over his thick thigh. He’s got one arm stuffed under a pillow and the other underneath your body, corralling you against him under the blanket. You lift your head, running your lips over the corner of his shoulder before you can stop yourself. He sighs reflexively but doesn’t seem to wake, buying you some time while you process. 

As you attempt to lift your thigh to shift positions you realize his heavy morning erection is resting dangerously close to the top of it. You pause and bite your bottom lip, risking a glance at John’s face. He’s still sleeping, his breathing unchanged, apparently immune to the tiny shifting you’ve been doing. You carefully slide your hand down his chest, the wiry hairs crinkling under your palm. You’re trying to get some leverage to lift up and over John’s hips but he’s not giving you much space to work. You shimmy your hips against him, wiggling slightly, and that proves to be your undoing. 

A deep inhale is your only warning before John’s vivid blue eyes crack open. When you look up at him from under your lashes you find him staring back, his expression soft. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You’re apologizing gently in the weak morning light but John’s dragging his hand from under the pillow to cup your face, shaking his head slightly. Another deep inhale and then you can feel him speaking as much as you hear him, his chest rumbling with his sleep roughened voice. 

“S’alright gorgeous, we overslept anyway. Lucky it’s the weekend.” His answer soothes you immediately and you admire him for a moment. Lovely, dear John who’s always more concerned with you than himself. His sandy brown hair is askew and his expression still sleep softened, making him seem more like the young man you remember from your youth. From one clenching heartbeat to the next you decide on a course of action. Before you can overthink you move to action, catching John off guard.

Pushing yourself onto your knees you let the blanket pool behind you, suddenly revealing John’s broad form to the trickling sunlight. You flatten a palm on his sternum, holding him in place when he tries to sit up, his turn to play catch up with you now. You’re easing over his hips, settling yourself down on his stomach, knees pressing into his lats as he groans, slightly arching underneath you. You hunch over him, sliding your palm up his chest to cup his chin, holding him where you want him as you kiss him. 

For such a physical man John is happy to be pliant. Like a man who can’t believe his luck and isn’t looking to test it, his hands are careful on your body. His palms find your thighs, sliding up and grazing the meat of your ass before gliding back down to your knees. You don’t let him distract you, focusing on the rasp and glide of his tongue instead of what his hands are doing. You’re both panting for air when you finally break apart, John squeezing your thighs, fingers dimpling your skin. His groan as you shift over top of him makes you smirk, the only thing between the heat of your bodies a simple pair of black underwear and the soft, threadbare t-shirt he gave you to wear last night. 

“Christ, don’t know what I did to deserve this sort of wake-up call.” He murmurs, his fingers working their way under the hem of the shirt to smooth up your sides with languid strokes. His touch is addictive, pulling at your brain along with the glide of his skin on yours, making it nearly impossible to think straight. You can feel the flex of his muscles under you as he moves and before he can distract you further you shimmy down his body, trailing open mouth kisses over his torso as you go. He’s stroking and petting whatever part of you he can still reach, his stomach flexing under your mouth. He seems content to let you run the show, watching you through heavy lidded eyes.

John’s body is covered in scars, the thin strips of healed flesh devoid of hair, making your heart clench for him again. You linger, pressing wet lips to as many as you can reach for a moment, your hand stroking over his hip, curling over the band of his boxers. You can feel the tension vibrating off John’s body, his breathing beginning to turn ragged. You give a light tug on his boxers and he automatically lifts his hips, his abs jumping against the backs of your fingers as he does so. His erection bobs, his cut shaft thick, the head flushed deep red and beginning to weep beads of pre-cum. You drag your palm over the jumping muscles of his belly, wrapping fingers around the base and making him groan on an exhale. 

He's about to say something, gathering a breath, so you cut him off, running your lips along the side of the shaft. When you reach the tip, you brush your lips over it as you speak.

“Shut up, John.”

He huffs a laugh and then sucks a breath through his teeth as you close your mouth around the tip, sucking lightly. You drag the flat of your tongue around the head, lapping at the underside, making him twitch and arch his back. You swirl your tongue around the tip, reveling in the salty taste of his body while John’s fingers tangle in your hair with a hissed curse followed by your name. When you look up at John his eyes look nearly black, the pupils dilated with desire.

“I won’t last if you keep that up, love, I’m too sensitive –“

You squeeze the base, ignoring him as you run the tip of your tongue through the slit, applying the faintest sucking pressure before backing off. He groans, loud in the stillness of the room.

“I don’t care, I want you to feel good.”

You oblige him anyways, switching to bobbing on his cock, your fingers squeezing and gliding in tandem with your motions. You fall into a rhythm, your weight balanced against John’s thighs allowing you to feel each shudder and jerk of his body. Heat pours off him, sweat rising on his skin as you work him over, his body winding tighter like a spring. A tight muscle low in his abdomen flutters and you switch back to focusing on the tip as his fingers clench in your hair. 

“Fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” John warns, his head thrown back as he pants into the morning light. His desperation only encourages you, focusing on sucking on the tip as you swirl your tongue in tight circles, trying to hold his big body down with a palm on his abdomen. His hips stutter as he comes, his body locking up as his orgasm tears through him with a shout. His fingers grip your hair as you swallow around him, lifting off him slowly. You look up at him and fight to keep a smirk off your face. John’s wrecked, his chest heaving and his head thrown back in the pillows with his eyes screwed shut. There are spots of flushed colour on his cheeks and his chest, the effect you have on him written plainly across his body. 

You debate crawling back up his chest to plaster yourself against him, but decide to visit the bathroom while he’s collecting himself, a soft smile playing on your lips. 

You’re brushing your teeth with his toothbrush when John sways into view in his boxers, wrapping himself around you from behind and watching you in the mirror silently as you finish up. Some of the apprehension that had lodged in your ribs when John initiated this change in your relationship eases. It’s not awkward, as had initially terrified you, instead the intimacy comes easily like sinking in to a well-loved recliner. John’s steady demeanour makes it easier, soothing your frayed edges where you want to fly apart, a talent he’s had as long as you’ve known him. He nudges you towards the shower, taking the toothbrush out of your hand.  

“Have a shower before we get back to your flat, love, you’re going to want some of your own things here, I think.” He directs, and you flush at the implication but do as your told for once, the butterflies gone and replaced with excitement. 

Next Chapter

[multifandomimagin3s]

Mercenary! Reader - 141, Los Vaqueros + Konig

So I recently rewatched Deadpool, and I was thinking about what the boys reactions would be to finding out that (r/n) is a mercenary - gave them a little bit of Wade's personality too~

Mentions of violence, strong language, little bit of angst if you squint.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Oh, he definitely doesn't trust you.

He's impressed by your skills on the battlefield, and knows that you're very good at what you do - otherwise you wouldn't be a mercenary - but he absolutely wouldn't turn his back on you.

Price would have probably already told 141 about you, but even if he hadn't he probably would have put two and two together on his own.

Doesn't judge you...much - he's done some pretty fucked up things, it comes with his line of work, but being a mercenary is on another level.

Your sense of humour piques his interest, his humour is dark at the best of times so the fact that you can match his dark comments with some of your own is fine by him.

Don't get it twisted though, if he thinks that you're trying to double-cross his team, he wouldn't hesitate to kill you.

If you were recruited to help 141 on a mission, it would probably mean that the mission was going to be hell on Earth; I can see Shepard hiring you - his intentions were probably never disclosed to you, which makes you trust him less and less.

Given that you're not part of the British Army, your clothing and gear probably wouldn't be similar at all; picture the suits from Black Widow, because Yelena is a goddess~

He definitely hasn't secretly admired your arse when you're not looking - Soap definitely caught him once and was given a glare as a warning to keep his mouth shut.

You'd have to prove yourself to him before he lets himself feel any of the feelings of attraction he has for you - mans has a lot of past trauma that he doesn't want repeated, so until he knows that you're trustworthy, he's going to be cold and calculative as always.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

While he may be a generally friendly guy, Johnny is far from stupid; he'll make small-talk with you in the beginning, but knows not to let his guard down - no matter how much your sense of humour makes him chuckle.

Watches you take down 4 soldiers almost twice your size with ease, and almost pops a boner.

If you're anything like Wade, he's a bit of an over-sharer; when you tell him about parts of your past that led to you becoming a mercenary - some parts which may have been slightly traumatic and concerning to hear - with a smile on your face, he's a bit worried for you.

Definitely flirts with you on the regular - Ghost just gives him a blank stare, wondering why Soap likes to gamble with his life since the team barely even know you.

Once you prove that you're trustworthy, he opens up to you more; we've seen how he acts with Ghost, undeterred by the big guy's cold exterior.

He asks to train with you - doesn't mind being thrown to the mats a hundred times over, "I don't mind the view from doon here, like ;D" [doon = down], "Aye, I knew you'd look great on top a' me"

Asks to try out your weapons - some are not too different from his own, while some are quite clearly black-market issue.

All in all, Soap's an easy-going guy - so as long as you don't try to kill him or anyone he cares about, you're golden.

Captain John Price

Another one who doesn't trust you at all.

He's been in the military for a long time, and he's encountered mercenaries from across the globe - most of them weren't the friendly type, especially when they were after the same target.

He's definitely angry when Shepard tells him that you'll be accompanying his team on the next mission; he's offended, for one, as it makes it seem as if his team are incompetent or not skilled enough to go it alone.

Doesn't take his eyes off you for a second - in his eyes, you're not a soldier, you don't abide by legalities and you essentially kill for money so you might as well be a fully-fledged assassin.

Doesn't bat an eyelid at your humour either, and doesn't let his guard down.

Your fighting skills are undeniable - you're very good at what you do, and you're clearly very intelligent, but don't mistake this for respect.

You probably don't show your face at all - revealing your identity would probably incriminate yourself and put yourself and anyone around you in danger; this doesn't phase him, but it makes it harder for him to trust you.

For Price to trust you would take a hell of a lot of work; you'd have to prove yourself, not just in the field but from a moral standpoint too.

If you do manage to prove yourself to him, then he might gradually start to see you in a different light.

Soap may or may not have caught him eyeing you up appreciatively - but a stern look from his Captain shut him up immediately.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I can see Gaz keeping out of your way as much as possible.

Out of everyone in 141, he's the youngest and hasn't been in the military for very long either, so he hasn't encountered mercenaries before.

That being said, he knows what a mercenary is and knows that Price doesn't trust you at all - the fact you were hired by Shepard is questionable in itself, so he keeps his interactions with you to a minimum.

Doesn't know what to make of your humour - sometimes your comedic timing and the things you come out with are quite funny, he can't deny that. But other times, you come out with some twisted shit that makes him wonder about your mental state.

He's naturally curious at to how you went from being a soldier to a mercenary - he doesn't have to ponder for long, sometimes you'd just openly remark about things that happened in your past and he was able to figure it out on his own.

He'd never admit it out loud but watching you rile up Ghost with your sarcastic comments and dark humour was entertaining - even if he did fear for your safety when the hulking soldier was due to blow a gasket.

If you showed him your face, he would be pleasantly surprised - Price definitely gives him the disapproving Dad face whenever he catches Kyle oggling you after that.

Alejandro Vargas

*I used google translate for both Alej, Rudy and Konig so if the translations are wrong I apologise*

Oof, he is angry.

We saw how he reacted with Valeria, he doesn't like soldiers who turn their back on morality for money.

He doesn't even attempt to hide his distaste for you.

"Eres un maldito traidor y un asesino." ["You are a fucking traitor and a murderer."]

Finds out you're working with 141 and he's just >:(

"¡¿Por qué diablos están aquí?!" ["Why the fuck are they here?!"]

Warns you that if you betray the team - his friends - that he'd be coming for you, and he would kill you without hesitation.

Your dark humour would probably rub him the wrong way, further solidifying his perception that you were a soldier who walked down a path that you couldn't come back from, "No tienes verguenza?" ["Do you have no shame?"]

I think that even if you did prove yourself, he still wouldn't fully trust you - it would take years for him to look you in the eye with a modicum of respect.

If he sees you getting along well with 141, it might slightly make him think differently of you - especially if Ghost seems to be okay with you being around them.

But it would take him a while to see you as anything other than a killer; "No eres malo, pero recuerda, traicionarnos y estarás muerto antes de que puedas correr." ["You're not bad but remember, betray us and you'll be dead before you can run."

Rudy Parra

Rudy's naturally quite a quiet guy, so I doubt he'd say much to you anyway.

However, this silence doesn't mean acceptance.

He keeps a close eye on you, analysing every move you make.

Would probably ask for your opinion on things when you're on a mission; it's partially out of curiosity, a way to see how your mind works, and other parts to air on the edge of caution because your sense of humour consisted of coming out with some crazy shit.

I reckon if he did trust you, he'd still be very cautious and aware of what you were and what you were capable of; after seeing you take down soldiers like it was nothing, he's inwardly grateful that you were fighting on the same side...for now.

If you let your guard down and told him about aspects of your personal life, it might change his mind a bit - it shows that you're human, you have a life outside all of this...but that being said, he's never seen your face, so you could walk past him in the grocery store and he would never know. It's unnerving.

If you do trust him enough to show your face, he's conflicted; "No te ves como esperaba que te vieras." ["You don't look how I expected you to look.] You look perfectly normal, minus the black paint around your eyes - pretty, even.

Alejandro doesn't like you one bit from the jump, and is constantly hovering around you both like >:(

It'll take a while for Rudy to trust you, but rest assured if you were to break his trust, it wouldn't end well at all - he's a Sergeant Major, and don't let his quiet nature fool you, he too is capable of doing damage.

König

The big guy is unphased - he's a mercenary too, so if he were to judge you then that would make him the biggest hypocrite of all.

Nonetheless, he doesn't trust you either - if you're not from KorTac, and he doesn't know who you are, then he's not letting his guard down at all.

Your sense of humour could go one of two ways with him:

If he's out on the field, and you're making dark jokes and sarcastic comments, then he'll probably laugh and join in; he's a completely different man when he's working, it's what makes him so good at what he does.

But if he's back on base...he's probably going to be a little awkward - the adrenaline's worn off and he's back to being his normal, shy self.

Wants to train with you but is hyperaware of his size and strength - he's seen you take down soldiers his size, but he's still concerned that he'd seriously hurt you.

Pin him to the mat and watch as his eyes widen and he averts his gaze, cheeks heating up under his mask; "Du kämpfst gut." ["You fight well."

There's a slim possibility that he would show you his face - you made the mistake of teasing him and he almost backed out, "Show me yours' and I'll show you mine~"

If you show him your face, he won't be able to look at you the same; how is he supposed to focus now when he knows you're attractive?!

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

If you combine the RDR2 epilogue with RDR1, while the series is still about John Marston’s redemption, the epilogue expands the scope by asking the question, “Can John put away his guns for good?”

Because the RDR2 epilogue was all about how John just couldn’t get away from gunfights. Although you can argue that he was pushed into those fights with the Laramies, you can also see Abigail’s perspective in that the fights were putting their family at risk. So, when Abigail leaves, John is forced to really consider if he can put the guns away for good. If he can actually pull off being a rancher. To his credit, he does try.

He gets the bank loan, he builds the house with Uncle and Charles, and he learns how to properly manage the property. Because of his efforts, Abigail and Jack come back. But even so, John just can’t put the guns away because he’s driven by revenge against Micah Bell. Although he gets his payback, he’s punished for it by Edgar Ross tracking him down. Ironically, karma bit both Micah and John here.

So, RDR1 continues the question of whether John can put the guns away for good. It’s here where he’s almost reached that point. But now, he’s being tested on whether he’ll be tempted back into a life of an outlaw, back into a life involving violence and danger. Despite everything that’s thrown his way, John continues his path of redemption/putting his guns away for good:

1) He’s put into the role of a lawman and is pitted against Bill’s gang, essentially forcing him to be on the other side of the outlaws’ violence against others. It’s through this that John swears off from the outlaw life for good, especially when he sees just how awful Bonnie MacFarlane and her family were treated.

2) Javier tries to use nostalgia of the “good ole days” to win John over. It doesn’t work since John doesn’t want the good ole days, especially since he has a bright future with Abigail and Jack. The Mexico arc was, in general, about torn loyalties. John was playing both sides of the war and Javier tried to sway John based on their past friendship. Despite this, John stays true to his convictions. He doesn’t want the life of an outlaw anymore, nor does he want to keep shooting people anymore (he even says he’s getting tired of pulling the trigger!), so he rejects the nostalgia of the old gang.

3) Dutch challenged John over his desire to change. Dutch believed change was impossible and that John would “always” be a gunslinger. He can’t be a rancher, it’s just not what nature intended. John, once again, sticks to his convictions. In fact, despite all of his anger towards Dutch, he refused to shoot him. John can shoot Bill and Javier, but it’s Dutch who he refuses to shoot. When I first played this, I thought it was his fondness over Dutch as his former leader. Now, I’m wondering if it’s also John trying to prove his point. That he CAN change, that he CAN put the guns away. So he does, even when he had Dutch cornered.

Then came the final challenge. Jack Marston brings up the topic of “the day John Marston stopped shooting”. What will it take? John finally does, but in more than one way. Obviously, he puts the guns away since he dies. But John could’ve easily escaped. We’ve done it as the player multiple times. But if he did, it would be a return to a life on the run, a life where Abigail and Jack would always be in danger. The same life that made Abigail take Jack and leave John in the RDR2 epilogue. Everything he’s worked for, all the progress he made in changing his life would be ruined.

So, John makes the hard choice. He sacrifices himself to ensure his family would be safe. He refuses to return to the outlaw life, to a life where he has to shoot at people, even if it means his death. And what is the last thing John does?

He throws away his gun.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.2

Prettyyyyy

Maybe John's not actually crazy for thinking Hey Jude is to him? “For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.” fool is, in my tin hat world, often a code name for Paul in their songs. And that description is certainly him to a t actually. I wonder why I've never considered it before. 

John: are you happy here, honey? Paul: I ain't happy here my honey, can you take me back? How many songs does Paul write from 1968 on about trying to go back? One day I'm going to make a list and it'll be a long one. 

And thus begins the phase of they just can't help it, can they? But they really wish they could. They make each other so so happy, but they really wish they didn't. It would hurt less that way. 

I love the comparison of Linda's pictures of everyone else and then of John. It just shows that it's not a her problem – that's such a lovely one of George, who Hates Yoko – it's how he feels about her.

John, coming up with every possible weapon to provoke Paul, finally has Yoko sing Paul's part in one of their songs. It really is such a slap in the face. But of course breaking the sanctity of their music is what does it best. And still, all he gets out of him is a look before he walks away. Whatever it is that John wants, I think Paul literally can not give it to him. 

Btw the white album is my favorite, probably. There's just such incredible diversity on it. It's so much fun, you never get tired of it, and it's an excellent display of their genius and versatility. 

He looks like an abandoned puppy. 

What do we think? John says Paul drummed on WDWDITR. Paul says Ringo did. Who is telling the truth?

“It was getting to be where he wanted to do it like that but he couldn't make the break . . .” So John thinks Paul doing his songs by himself means he wants to break the group up? I personally read it as him not wanting to annoy everyone with his bossiness, but that's just my take. 

John talking about how it's him and Yoko now, but before, it was . . .

George needs to send them a cease and desist notice or he'll sue them for breech of character the amount of times they drag him into things he's not a part of. Especially if they're not going to even fucking spare him a glance in reality. Please and thank you, Hare Krishna. 

Paul's epigraph on the two virgins cover. “Battles to prove he was a saint”? What kind of passive aggressive shit is that, Paul?

The eternal question: what happened in India? And does John really not know? Or is he just unwilling to tell what happened to rolling stone?

Somebody please engage with that poor little boy, preferably, you know, his father. Ugh, Cynthia must've had so much anxiety watching that footage, or really any time Julian was with John. And that footage is placed in the doc right after a pic of Paul already being Heather's dad just so naturally. 

But hell, if I've ever seen attention-seeking behavior, this is it. Singing about wanting to die while seductively undressing the closest thing Paul would've had to career competition at the time. 

I'm sorry but it will forever be hilarious to me that when John's singing his part of “I've Got a Feeling” with Yoko it's “soft dream” and then with Paul it's “wet dream”. How John and Yoko tricked everyone into believing they were too horny for each other to control themselves is beyond my imagination. 

On the day John plays their sex tape, “Unusually, Yoko is not present.” LMAO girl same. John: I'm going to play our sex tape for the band tomorrow. Yoko: oh was that tomorrow? Damn, I forgot, I have a thing. 

“Well that's an interesting one.” What did John honestly expect, though? Like I know he wanted Paul to be like, “that's it! Enough is enough I'm taking you home and doing you right!” Or whatever. But what did he honestly, realistically expect?

Always saying the same things at the same time, always on the same page, same word. About everything, it seems, except their relationship. 

Paul: but you won't say anything about it. John: I said what I've been thinking. Paul: Are you still thinking that now? What are you thinking now? John: I'm still thinking about it. Infuriating. Whatever it is John's been thinking, he doesn't want to talk about it in front of cameras. Is it quitting the band? I think it's something more complicated than that but I've no idea what. 

“John, John, joooooohn!” X “Martha my Dear” crossover my beloved. The fact that literally Everyone reacts and tries to get her to stop except Paul is so extremely telling. Yoko: joooooohn! Ringo: He's busy! Yoko: joooooohn! John: Stop that! (And he looks and sounds genuinely pissed) Yoko: joooooohn! Paul: (plinking and pounding away, definitely not thinking thoughts about what he would do right now if he was a girl that will come out of his mouth fifteen years later)

Everyone's trying to figure out the problem with George vs JohnandYoko and Paul's saying “and like with Yoko, they’re real. They mean it.” Linda laughs. “I don't dig that.” You don't, Linda? What about them isn't real to her, I wonder. Does she think they don't really love each other? Or what?

Linda: *Makes fart noise* Go away! Paul: continues to defend them. Neil: everybody cough. See and this is why it sucks that get back was so edited. Because it's important that Paul's defending them here not just going on and on where nobody asked. He knows he's hurt John, and he feels bad enough about it to let him have his mommy with him at all times if that's what he needs.

If what??? Someone needs to force them to finish their damn sentences. Because I feel like he cuts himself off here when (I swear!!) he's about to say what it is that's hurting John so badly.

Anyway, here's where (imo) he's kinda wrong. Where he says "if it came to a push between Yoko and the band, it's Yoko." I think I said it in my get back posts, but I'll say it again. Yeah, if it was Yoko or the band, it's Yoko. But if it's Yoko or Paul filling all the gaps Yoko is currently filling? It's Paul. You know? And I think that's what John wants so badly at this time, actually. Is “a push between Yoko and [Paul]” ending with Paul stepping up for him in some way that he wasn't before, you know?

He really does get it though. John wanting to be as close as possible with Yoko so he doesn't lose her and their connection. Don't forget he does put Linda in his band. He gets it because it was the same with him and John. 

I really do think it's a huge myth that they just never talked about feelings or anything serious. Look at them. This is how they talk in a crowded place with their girlfriends sitting right there. They didn't just get through fifteen years of one of the greatest collaborations in history never actually talking. They talked about deep stuff. And frequently. 

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Imagine meeting retired!Price on a group trip to Japan.

Inspired by my own upcoming trip.

CoD ML

At first you don’t know you’re part of the same group. For all you know and care, you’re simply two strangers seated next to each other on the plane to Osaka.

Few words are shared between you during the flight. However, it’s anything but awkward because the tall stranger with enchanting blue eyes shows himself quite the gentleman minutes after your shallow acquaintance.

John stands up from his seat as soon as you point out yours is by the window and blocks the pathway with his imposing frame. “Sorry,” you mumble while trying to settle in as fast as you can, self-conscious about the others waiting to get to their seat.

“Take your time, miss. I’ll wait.” There’s a silent warning in his words to the others behind him, daring them to defy him or show annoyance.

“Want me to pop that in the cubbie?” he asks when he sees you struggle with where to put your jacket.

“No. Thank you, I mean, but-“

He extends a hand, which oddly reminds you of a bear’s paw. “Don’t be silly.”

His fingers briefly brush yours when you hand him your jacket. Perhaps to calm you, to assure you he really doesn’t mind. Perhaps it’s just an accidental touch.

John’s travel outfit of choice is a pair of baggy cargo pants, army green jacket, and grey teddy fabric hoodie.

John reads most of the flight away, oblivious to how his glasses make you feel. Like, seriously, how do they make him even more distractingly handsome than he already is?!

As the hours pass by, slipping into the night, you decide to try and catch some shut eye. The stranger next to you has already accomplished your ultimate goal, slouched a little in his seat and vast asleep. He’s pulled his hood up, face half-hidden by the fabric, and crossed his arms. Such a lucky bastard.

He doesn’t mind you lean on him after falling asleep yourself after the necessary struggles. In fact, unbeknownst to you, John manoeuvred your head to rest on his shoulder. He even considered draping his jacket over you, strangely affected by the way he briefly saw you shiver.

When one of the flight attendants kindly wakes John up for breakfast, it takes every ounce of self-control to not let instinct take over and kiss you on the temple to wake you up. However, where he manages to restrain himself, he looses control otherwise.

One hand on your arm, he tries to wake you. “Sweetheart, wake up. Breakfast’s ready.”

You only curl up more into him, clutching his arm like your favourite stuffed animal. So he uses a little force and gently shakes you. “C’mon, darling. Ya need to eat.”

It shouldn’t affect him this much. You shouldn’t have this effect on him. Yet, there’s a prideful warmth in his chest when your drowsy eyes fall on him, delighted he’s the first thing you see as you regain consciousness. But the tender sentiment mingles with the inklings of lust he hasn’t been able to shake off, manifest in the painful hardness in his pants. Fortunately, the blanket in his lap hides it well.

It’s only at Kansai Airport you each discover the other’s identity.

“Wait, you’re part of the group?” Gobsmacked, you gawk at him. The last thing you had expected was to be ‘stuck’ with the stranger for the coming two weeks. Such a cruel fate.

“So it seems,” the man mumbles before he takes your hand, raises it to his lips, and kisses your knuckles. “John Price, miss. At your service.”

Naturally assumes the role of your guardian. Of course he allows you your freedom to go and do your own thing. After all, he’s only a travel companion, a vague acquaintance, to you. Someone you only see when the whole group is together. And despite his natural confidence, John isn’t so sure you’d want him with you.

But the uncertainty proves unnecessary soon.

You go from holding his arm to holding his hand fairly quickly, standing closer to him every day. What also helps the growing craving for his presence is how he always sits next to you on the Shinkansen. During the journey, you share the food you bought before boarding (which you later buy together for a planned lunch on the train). Or you go over the photos you made or hidden gems you found in absence of the other.

Or you sit in silence, leaning on each other while reading.

You two more often than not go off by yourselves. The first few days you share stories over group dinner, but soon go adventuring together.

When you do, of course there are compromises when it comes to what to do and see. Fortunately, John is willing to pop into every Pokémon Center you come across. He knows nothing about the franchise, but your enthusiasm and the nostalgia you harbour for it melts his heart. And despite forgetting the creature’s names as soon as you mention them, he makes a mental note you seem to have a special affinity for something called an ‘Eevee’, an ‘Arcanine’, and two wolves. One carries a sword around, firmly wedged between its maws (Zacian). The other is decked out in shields (Zamazenta).

John finds it adorable how you snuggle with an Eevee plushie at one of the big Pokémon centers. However, he’s seen how much you’ve bought already. “That still gonna fit in your suitcase, sweetheart?”

“Surely with a bit of rearranging it will.”

He sighs, not believing what he’s about to do. Damn those feelings he can’t seem to suppress despite his best efforts. “I’ll pay. And if it doesn’t fit, there’ll be plenty space in my suitcase.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he answers matter of fact, already counting the yen in his wallet. “How much is it?”

In return for his many kindnesses, you accompany him on the hunt for as many Eki stamps as possible. Whereas you expected a bit of a wild goose chase, John has actually meticulously planned out a route so you don’t haphazardly go to and fro across the country.

He insists on paying for any food and drink on the way. After all, he’s the one low-key dragging you along so he might as well make it beneficial to you.

Little does he know you don’t mind.

That his company is plenty reason to go with him.

John is a foodie and loves exploring the Japanese food scene with you. Bakeries, cafés, sushi restaurants, food stalls. You name it, he’s in.

Loves buying a bunch of food you can try in the privacy of either of your hotel rooms. He’ll brew a cup of tea to have with it and if the food doesn’t make too much of a mess, you snuggle up on the bed to enjoy it while watching a show or movie on Netflix (either on his laptop or your tablet).

Loves the occasional midnight ramen moment with you.

Though he mostly loves the mornings after your visits, which has ended yet again by sleeping in each other’s beds or futons (depending on where you’re staying). Every time the both of you tell yourselves you’ll leave, go back to your own room to hit the hay.

But what better way to wake up than in sturdy warm arms?

Have someone snuggled up to you instead of opening your eyes to an empty space?

Seems those Liverpool nights have finally come to an end.

Although John’s a bit hesitant, you manage to convince him to start an Instagram together to document the trip. It doesn’t take long for people to start commenting on the photos of you two together or react to John’s captions on the photos he posts of you. And those are a lot in comparison to those you post of him.

You make such a cute couple!

Are you two together?

Relationship goals!

Ugh, would love me a man like that.

Handsome!😍

But there are also the negative comments, which mostly concerns the age gap between you two. He deletes them as soon as he can, but you know he’s read them and that simple repeated act has made them eat away at him. It’s hard, dealing with online hate, and John honestly wonders how you do it. You’re flattered he gets angry, furious even, on your behalf when there’s any negativity aimed at you. However, you know it’s pointless, spending energy on the opinion of others. So whenever he’s on the verge of going ballistic, you put your hand on his arm and pluck his phone out of his bear paw. “Let’s put that away for now, hm?”

Words can’t describe how grateful John is whenever you do that. But they can explain his growing affection for you.

Perhaps, at long last, he’s falling in love.

One night, at about two in the morning, he shows up at the door of your hotel room. Your drowsiness fades into concern when you notice his sickly complexion, it’s paleness highlighted by the shimmer of sweat coating his skin. “Thank God you’re still alive.”

“John, you alright?” The dullness in his otherwise sparkling blue eyes is haunting, more worrisome as the dusk makes them look emptier.

“You can rely on me, okay?” His voice cracks. “That’s an order.”

“Okay.”

“So don’t go bloody wandering off by yourself. We’re a team. One unit.”

“Okay,” you repeat. “Come inside.”

He doesn’t budge as you lightly tug his arm. “It’s safe.”

“Right.”

He lets you lead him to the bed, where you plop him down. Judging by how light he feels, easy to guide, you can tell he’s not here entirely. “Stay here tonight.”

“I have to save him.”

“Who?”

“Soap. I- I have… have… had… couldn’t. I couldn’t fucking save him.”

“John, I’m sure you did what you could.” In spite of not knowing what he’s on about, you wrap him in your arms to console him. His fingers dig painfully into your skin, clinging to you for dear life. “I’m a failure. We should’ve made it out alive. The whole unit. Not just-“

“Shh, you did what you could.”

“I- I should’ve- What if I can’t do the same for you?”

“It’s alright. I’m here, alive. As are you.”

“Yeah… alive.” His breathing starts to even out. “With me. Together.”

You manoeuvre yourself beneath the sheets, careful to not escape his touch and thus take away his comfort. After a bit of a hassle, you end up with John snuggled up to you and your fingers in his hair. Finally you feel him relax and settle. Into the bed, your embrace.

Your presence.

His anchor.

Come morning, the tables have turned and now it’s you snuggled up to him and his warm sturdy arms wrapped around your body.

Neither of you thinks it strange. After all, you’ve grown accustomed to each other’s company. So it’s nothing but natural to feel his fingers caress your cheek. Perhaps to wake you, perhaps a gesture of tender admiration. Whatever the case, it’s a nice way to wake up.

“Hey,” John murmurs.

“Hey,” you repeat, equally as drowsy. “Sleep well?”

He rests his forehead against yours. “Thanks to you.”

“You snore, though.”

“Do I?”

“Like a grizzly bear.”

“Well, you ain’t wrong. Then again, I’m your beartleman.”

You groan. “No puns this early, please.”

“Sorry.” Tracing your features, he gathers the courage to start the conversation he loathes having. He is a capable man, a leader, level-headed and determined.

Most of the time.

Because he also knows he’s damaged goods. The fact he’s here in bed with you tells him he wasn’t lucid dreaming or, rather, hallucinating. He showed up at your door.

Holding out his broken pieces to you, wilfully ignorant of the fact you don’t know how to put them together.

“Y/N, about last night…”

“John, don’t apologise. It’s alright.”

“I was a bit much, wasn’t I?” He remarks, trying to play it off.

“Do you get those types of attacks often?”

“Not a lot. Thought I was over them, but apparently not.”

“Were you in the army?”

“I was. SAS. Captain Price.” A dark chuckle leaves his lips, full of the stories he won’t tell. Not yet. “Once upon a time.”

“Got dismissed?”

“Of my own volition. Officially I’m retired, earlier than I thought or would’ve liked.“

“But?”

“But there are only so many ghosts a man can allow himself to be haunted by. So much he can bear before he goes insane.”

But fortunately you are here now, to dispel the worst of his ghosts.

And he’ll dispel the yokai hiding around you.

[heartofwritiing]

Rest Easy

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

summary: Wilbur overworks himself which results in him falling asleep in your lap in the studio. based on one of an idea I had from this

authors note: I was feeling a little bummed so I wanted to write something quick and fluffy I hope you guys like it!

warnings: fluff, one swear, unedited, and not proofread, please ignore any mistakes!

The text you got from Wilbur when you were on your way to your apartment was short but sweet.

-Gonna be home later than usual, working on a bug in the studio with a particular song. don't wait up for me if you’re hungry love you <3

It was only around 6:45pm which was a bit late for him work wise. So, since you were close by anyways, and your stomach was growling to eat something, you headed straight for the studio a few blocks away. Making a small stop at the sandwich place on the way he always raved about.

You knew his order by hear so you didn’t bother messaging him, plus you wanted to surprise him.

Arriving at the studio you entered the control room, noticing the red light was on indicating the band was recording. You quietly shut the door behind you, and John-their music producer- swiveled around in his chair to give you a small wave. Everyone else you could see through the glass window in the recording room was chilling with their respective instruments as you guessed, waiting for instructions.

You could hear a backing track of guitars and drums play through the speakers, as the warm baritone voice of your boyfriend mixed in with the instrumentals lulled you into a state of comfort.

"Fuck," he swore through the mic when he messed up a line. It echoed through the speakers reverberating off the walls. He just wanted to get this last bit right and then they would be done. You couldn’t help the giggle you let out at his minor outburst of annoyance. you swore you thought he could hear you through the padded walls because his eye line met yours through the window, a look of surprise crossed his face. Lifting your hand that held the bag of food with a wave, his eyes lit up with alleviation and gratitude, he motioned for you to come in.

You somehow maneuvered your way passed all the wires and various equipment strew all over the studio without tripping. Wilbur Pulls you into and bone crushing hug after a few hours of separation he couldn’t wait to get his arms around you.

“You didn’t have to bring me food,” he says pulling back, giving your cheek a quick peck.

You give him a frowned look. “who said it was food for you, smart guy?” Jokingly of course.

Wilbur just deadpans.

“Come on, you went to my favorite sandwich place,” Wilbur lifted your arm still holding the take away bag to prove a point. He saw the logo of the shop on the front. “walked two blocks just to bring it to where I am.”

Damn, he caught right on to your ruse. You rolled your eyes playfully and threw up your metaphorical flag in defeat.

“okay, fine you caught me, I thought id be nice and bring you something to make sure you don’t starve, especially after such a long day, sue me.” You stepped closer once again to give a kiss to his lips.

Wilbur hummed in appreciation before leaning in.

“and that is why I love you,”

“because I bring you food?”

“precisely my love,”

Joe who was scrolling through instagram on the loveseat against the wall was listening to the whole exchange with a smirk pulling at his lips until he spoke up.

“You two are disgustingly cute,”

You pulled away from Wilburs lips reluctantly and turned your head to the amused Joe, who you didn’t even know was still here.

“we try our best,” you shrug.

You trudge over to where Joe was sitting and plop down beside him while Wilbur gets back to work to finish up this last line. Not knowing he was gonna be here you didn’t think about getting Joe something but he waved you off saying he would get something afterwards.

Watching Wilbur sing into the mic was a whole thing. He seemed so lost in his words when he sang, concentration purely written across his face as his throat muscles bob with each note. You thought he constantly so good but today he just looked so damn good. His hair was fluffed in a particular direction, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose and his eye brows scrunched as he pressed his full lip’s against the pop filter.

You felt so dumb at the jealousy of an inanimate object surging through you as you watched him wet his lips with his tongue and they brushed the mesh.

He must’ve felt eyes staring at the side of his head because, he turns his head in your direction with a smirk and that glint in his eye that makes your body heat. He sends you a wink as he finishes a word, then quickly puts his attention back forward.

Happily, about a few minutes later, Wilbur came to sit next to you, munching away at his sandwich. You both chatted away about your day eventually he had to get back to finish up the recording.

About half an hour later you were both still in the studio. Joe had already left but Wilbur was adamant to get this last track perfect.

"Wil, honey?" you called out, he lifts one headphone and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"I think you should rest, just for tonight, you've done so much and you looked exhausted, and it's getting really late we should head home." concern laced your voice and made him consider stopping for a moment.

You had checked the time once again peering at your phone and saw the time read: 1:33 am. But you knew him too well.

It wasn't fair of him to keep you here all night. You had work in the morning as well. Wilbur felt the guilt gnawing at his chest, the yawn in his voice telling him to rest. rest. rest.

"I'm sorry love, just two more lines and I promise, I'll be done.

He walked over to you and placed a kiss on your forehead quickly before turning back around again.

You always loved Wilbur's determination, but he sometimes could overwork himself to the point of exhaustion. Noticing the growing bags under his eyes and the grogginess increasing in his voice every day, you knew he was over-working himself. Non-stop for the past five days. The new Lovejoy ep was causing him so much stress, he put too much pressure on himself, which worried you immensely. He would go to the studio early in the morning, get home late, fall into bed next to you, get up the next day, and do it all over again. He was tiring himself out more than usual and it wasn't good for him.

You scrolled through your phone absentmindedly in the same spot, fighting off sleep. In your peripheral vision, Wilbur stood in front of you startling your occupied brain. He moved when you noticed him and he laid his head down in your lap, his long legs dangled over the arm of the couch before you could say anything.

Wilbur buried his face in your tummy as his hand snaked around your waist so he could cuddle into you further. It was an odd position he was in, but he seemed cozy.

"you tired?" you tilted your head, running your hands through his messy brown locks. Wilbur hummed at your touch and nodded in response.

"I'm sorry, I should have listened to you," he mumbles into your shirt.

Sometimes you hated his stubbornness, but you loved him so that made up for it.

Not even a minute passed and Wilbur was already softly snoring in your lap like a tired cat. You giggled at your boyfriend and admire his calm features, running the pad of your pinky down the bridge of his adorable nose and watching as he twitched at the contact. A faint smile spread on his lips. He looked too peaceful, so for now, you'd let him sleep. You were happy he was finally getting some well-deserved rest anyways.

"Rest easy, my love."

End

-

taglist: @justanormalfangirlx2 @merakiwi

[alwaysshallow]

prompt: ghost retired from task force 141. soap takes a journey through their whole relationship, thinking where it went wrong. part 1 of ?

John MacTavish is a brave man.

At least, he likes to think of himself like this. He has proven multiple times that he is brave. First and foremost, he tried to enroll to the SAS a few times; and it wasn't important that every time he was caught lying about his age, it was the fact that he still tried, despite the amused looks on the recruiter's faces. He remembered all of them, including that damn question he had to answer thousands of times: why do you want to be in the army so early?

Stupid question. Question that, every time, he answered with: why not? In his eyes, he was way more mature than most of the boys his age (an obvious lie, he was maybe even less mature), more skilled than them and would make a perfect fit for the army. What was important too, he could stand his ground without any troubles - besides the one, the one that his mother always scolded him about. His mouth was way too honest, causing him many problems.

Thankfully, those problems weren't military ones; men actually dismissed him with a small smile on their face and a reminder that he could "join later" and be useful then. Obvious bullshit, but after some time, John took that seriously and started training on his own to be prepared.

And he was prepared. Still is, due to strict training in military and at bootcamps that he worked his ass off, trying to be the best of the best, trying to be the best sniper, demolitions expert. He thought of every detail, knowing that if he wants to be remembered, he has to be remembered for something good. For something that people will be envious of.

Paid off, since he passed it with the highest marks on all 3 phases; he cursed in his mind at Gaz being a few seconds quicker than him with the record, but he was the youngest to pass the SAS selection in history, so he guessed it was good to give his rival – later best friend – the first place in something.

He was also brave on the missions; he still remembers his first one, even if he has actual two first ones. First one as a soldier, and first one as a Task Force 141 member.

Soldier one was tough. He didn't really know what to expect at first, if he's gonna be more engaging with civilians, or put into the crossfire; and he quickly understood that right in the middle of war, there's no such thing as knowing what's gonna come.

Death, feeling like a failure, trying to bottle everything up for the sake of the mission just to slowly rot inside, if you're not gonna keep up with it. Thankfully, John somehow knew what he was signing up for, so it came easier for him, but he saw guys that didn't make it far as he did.

In moments like this, he is thankful.

Johnny definitely prefers to think of the first mission with the Task Force, though. He waited for the time like this enough to be excited like a kid on Christmas day, jumping around to unwrap all the gifts. For him, gifts were new adventures to get, goals to accomplish, things to prove, since he was the youngest on the team. Price told him that, when he called him, Soap immediately sent his mum a text about the team he became a part of.

He came back home wasted, but it was for a good cause, after all.

For those who know Johnny enough, it isn't a surprise that he remembers everything about his first day. The weather, how he almost thought he's gonna be late for the first meeting because some moron bumped into his car, his nervousness, how he almost vomited, greetings with everyone on the team.

Over time, Kyle Garrick quickly becomes his best friend, and a keeper of secrets that Johnny has. Maybe it's because he's closer to age with him than with others, maybe similar experiences, but he really is someone that he can talk to without feeling any boundaries between them. Even if he is the holder of the record that he felt envious of (for a moment), somehow MacTavish doesn't feel like this anymore, he's more impressed, if it's possible.

Over time, John Price is easily his mentor. Someone that he looks up to, someone that he remembers from his past, when he was only training. A living legend that he wishes to be in the future, and now he's in his team. Johnny knows that if he'd tell anyone from his previous unit where he is, they'd be jealous. And for a reason; Price isn't just some captain that exists, he's a captain that everyone respects, and that's what matters.

Over time, Simon Riley… is still an enigma that Soap wishes to understand more, if it would be even a possibility. It's not – the man speaks less than a monk, wears his skull face all the time so he can't even take a peek at his face (he thinks it is pretty, though), but cracks jokes that usually belong to dads or uncles at weddings. Every time he thinks he knows something about his comrade, it collapses right in the moment.

No matter how MacTavish tries to talk with him longer, no matter how he nudges him so he sends him judgy looks, it's not enough. He's not the problem, he knows, Ghost is like this to everyone, but somehow that infuriates him even more, since he always found a way.

To everyone, and yet somehow isn't adding.

First serious interaction, where Soap can feel like he cares, happens where Graves betrays them and he's on the run. It feels like playing with death, after being shot in the arm, after feeling like he's on his own. After feeling like something that he finally had control of, it turned into ashes really fast. They weren’t even comrades for that long, they had so many things to live through together, and—

"Johnny, how copy?"

His heart nearly skips a beat when he hears that. Suprassing a groan of pain, he moves his arm a little; it fucking hurts, but it's good. Nerves are still there. "Missed my ass, LT?"

He hears scoff on the other side of the line. "You're the only one I can trust right now, sergeant. Thought you're dead in the ditch somewhere."

He knows It's probably better to ignore that warm feeling in his chest. "Never."

Everything after this, feels like a video game that he likes to play from time to time, not real life. Trying to get to church, trying to survive while Shadow Company is hunting not only his ass, but also Ghost's – and on Johnny's mind is also Alejandro. Is he alive?

He has many questions, and no one to actually answer him, but having Simon on comms somehow eases his mind, especially when he serves all those dad jokes. For the first time, it's Soap that doesn't know what to tell him, he is the one who speaks less, and it feels like a good break from the usual routine.

Surely, it would be even better if the conditions of the whole banter would be a little… calmer, without anyone on their back, but he had to cherish what he has. He supposes it won't last long, probably after everything will be right he'll get back to his usual, grumpy self, but it's the thought that counts.

John is quite pleased to see that he was wrong, when they're in the bar, after a mission; Task Force 141 back together, as well as members of Los Vaqueros back in Las Almas. Thoughts about how he would want to stay there for a longer time to help flood all over him, until the seat next to him cracks under Ghost's weight.

Soap bites his tongue before he says a joke about this. Bad habit, but he learned the hard truth over the years that sometimes he needs to shut up, especially if he cares about having his relationships in check. And, to be honest, he don't want to upset his lieutenant after he was so… caring for him.

"Everything's good, LT?" He tilts his head, observing how Simon sips his whiskey without even frowning at the strongness of the alcohol; couldn't be him.

"Tired, MacTavish," he replies, eyeing him up and down; lazily, like he doesn't really have the power to do this, but he wants to. At least, Soap thinks this way. It's a giddy feeling. "Your arm?"

"My arm?" he fires the question right back, without much thinking about it. Riley's one look gets him back to shape, and he suddenly knows what he was asking about. "Eh, 's… good. Hurts still, but should be good. Doctor told me 's nothin' too serious and—"

"—Why you thought 'm not gonna help you?" Ghost interrupts him.

It's not harsh like usual, when Johnny blabbers too much, and irritates his lieutenant with information that doesn't need to be said out loud. This one feels like a genuine question that he thought of for a while, and it makes sergeant all tingly inside.

Weird; because why Simon needs to know this? Does it bother him that Scot felt like he wouldn't help him, and he'd die on the streets like a dog? Or, worse: be tortured by Shadow Company, then he would eventually die, if Graves would feel generous enough.

"It's…" he gulps. His grasp around glass tightens, he doesn't even realize that only ice is left here, when he plays with it. "You didn't have to. Situation was rough, everythin' blew the fuck up. Wouldn't blame ya if you would leave me, happens."

Guy with the skull balaclava hums, like he gets his way of thinking. For a few seconds, there's an awkward silence between them, chatter from other people and music being the only sound. "We're a team, Johnny. Not gonna let you die on me anytime soon, do you hear me?"

He nods, but it's not enough for Simon. Johnny almost squeaks, when he grabs his chin unexpectedly, forcing him to look into his brown eyes. Dark, darker than the beer that he's currently drinking. "What the—"

"—do you hear me, sergeant?"

It takes all in his will not to kiss him, but Johnny knows that's not the situation like in the movies he watched with his sister; not like the movies, where the main character is adored by a silent, grumpy guy just because he loves them. That's just another situation with his lieutenant who should really seek therapy to talk better with people that he cares about because grunting out answers ain't really the way.

Johnny at least thinks he cares about him a little. He wants him to. "I do hear."

"Good."

And this is how the whole story gets interesting. Tracing Makarov, figuring out what they should do about Shepherd being an asshole, but first and foremost, interacting as a team. As Task Force 141.

[icarustypicalfall]

Right now

drabble, describing cod men in one word.

warnings: fluff, slight angst, not fully proofread bcz m tired:(

note: tysm for all your sweet wishes, ilysm. this one for you. i know i wasn't here much. srry about that.

masterpost • ao3 •

<3

Simon Ghost Riley

tired.

he is tired. Ghost, a mere void, a lost soul trying to find it's purpose again. despite the flame and the determination, he still holds a deep gush from the past nothing can ease. Nonetheless, he doesn't let it affect him. Everyday, he shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding to rethink them all one day.

He thought that day won't come till he met you. It would take some time, the healing path is long. Might as well hold his hand tightly.

Gaz

underrated.

He is never enough. No matter how much he puts in the work, there is always a tid missing. It consumes his sanity and leaves him countless nights hopeless. The dark circles he earned are from late workout sessions, long training outside the field. He thought he'd end up being the best, he was left to nothing.

You picked him up, dusted off his clothes and shared with him a cup of tea. He didn't say much, though his silence was louder than any words. He was grateful.

John Price

old?

It didn't affect him much, people's words were nothing to him, yet he wished he met you when he was younger. He knows he isn't exactly old. But he isn't young neither.

This absurdity left him in a foolish state. Sometimes, he'd even push you away, before crawling again in your arms. Whispering apologies mixed with meloncholy. You hugged him tightly, promising to be there till the end.

Soap

Peaceful.

He might've be unserious sometimes, but at heart, he has a dream. He reminded himself of that purpose consistently, trying his best to fullfil his desire for peace. How funny, a soldier wishing for peace? He thought about it for years, slowly realizing it was impossible for him.

You proved to him peace isn't about your surroundings, but about your heart.

He never felt more seren than after he slid that ring in your finger, in front of all his friends and family.

Alejandro Vargas

Passionate.

He loves, and when he does, he commits; Holly, utterly, with his very being. But, it hurts when he puts his trust in the wrong person. He was hurt, bruised, betrayed countless times. The scars on his body and the wounds in his heart a proof to the pain he held all those years.

It was until he met you, he realized what love is. The colonel fell to his knees, shedding tears of unspoken woe he held. You were there to ease his pain.

Rudy Parra

Quiet.

He is silence, a peaceful madness, an angry ocean, a loud thunder striking. He never lets his anger blind him. He was silent, collected, counting every step he takes. Silence was sometimes too loud. Sometimes, he wished he could vanish, dissaper in a beat and never come back. When his time comes, he wishes to be buried in your smile, where he can find eternal peace.

Phillip Graves

Vulnerable.

He never knew how to be, he thought being a commander means he should be collected, stoic. He buried his feelings, fears and doubts inside. Letting them accumulate till it overflew, leaving him in disaster. He shattered after a failed mission. And, for the first time, he let you pick up the pieces, putting him together like a broken vase. You looked upon his baby blues, letting peace wash over him.

[cod-dump]

John “thinks he’s unlovable and people merely tolerate him” Soap Mactavish; is unconvinced when Gaz tells him that he is Ghost’s favorite on their team. Vehemently denies it. He’d love for it to be true, but knows in his heart that it isn’t.

Gotta love that sweet, sweet low self-esteem that makes that sweet angst

___

A Bit Too Much

Angst below the cut

___

Growing up Soap was described as “a bit too much”. By his parents, siblings, the kids at school— He just accepted that’s what he was. “A bit too much”. As he grew, he tried different things to deal with this. Not engaging with people was his first approach. Then when people started saying “too quiet” he changed things up.

“A bit too much”, “Too quiet”, “Tries too hard”, “Thinks he’s too good for us”, “Bipolar freak”—

So he gave up. He put up a front full of confidence. This became the persona everyone knew. This was Soap, that’s how he was. Brave, facing the world with a grin and a smug comment. But even though Soap lived the persona so long, he was constantly reminded that, well, he was too much. Too friendly, too arrogant. He talked back, stuck his neck out. And when he got those looks from everyone… Well, it took everything he had to not let his mask crack.

When he joined 141 and met Ghost, he smiled and continued the act. The confidence, the know-it-all attitude. That glare from Ghost almost made him break. But he kept going. He proved himself to be a valuable member of 141. He earned his mark. When Ghost started to tone down the aggression, Soap simply told himself the man was trying to be nice considering they were going to be working together for the unforeseeable future. He had to be nice so they could work together smoothly.

The jokes were odd but considering how dark some were Soap took them as Ghost trying to remind him of Ghost’s reputation. Then the shoulder pats after a job well done— Those were always done in front of others. Ghost couldn’t show people his distaste for Soap.

One evening they were on a mission in a temperate forest. It’s been quite a bit since then so Soap couldn’t really remember why they were there. But they had to camp out there overnight. A fire burning between them, laying on their backs, looking through the trees staring at the stars. The others were passed out, and it was between either Soap or Ghost to keep watch.

“Get some rest, sergeant.”

“Me? You tell me that with those bags under your eyes?”

The chuckle that came from Ghost wasn’t like the dry, forced laughter that he had heard before. It was warm, genuine. Soap couldn’t remember the last time he heard someone laugh like that in response to something he said/done.

He’s tired, probably thinks a knock knock joke would be hilarious.

Soap insisted he would take watch and Ghost looked at him with unreadable eyes before agreeing. Probably didn’t want to bother arguing with him considering how stubborn and insufferable Soap could be. Soap knows how he is, he remembers his mother telling him that several times before he finally joined the military.

Since then, Soap would think about how Ghost looked that night. Though he was in gear, same skull mask and balaclava, faded black grease around the eyes. He looked so- so—

Soap had a bad habit of becoming obsessive when he finds a person that he likes. Someone who he genuinely loves to be around. Past girlfriends and boyfriends and friends in general called him “clingy” and some said he would stalk them. He never tried to make them uncomfortable, but when he finds that person who brightened his day just by him seeing them… He tried to be around them as much as possible. But he would be constantly reminded of how weirded out people were by that.

But Ghost didn’t give him the same signs that he was crossing the line like those in the past. Wasn’t told to back away, stop talking for moment, just leave him alone for fuck’s sake. Soap tried to give Ghost his space, watched what he said, and leave him alone as often as possible. He wasn’t sure why this man was so patient with him. His own parents never gave him this kind of tolerance. Soap wondered if Ghost, despite his reputation, was a lot nicer then what people made him out to be.

So after deeming that Ghost was too nice to tell him to fuck off, Soap decided to avoid him. The first couple of days, if Soap saw Ghost in the hall or in the room he entered, he had to remind himself to leave him alone. The man needed a break. After a week and a half he got used to the lack of companionship (though he knows Ghost was loving the change). After three weeks Soap found company elsewhere.

He would pick random recruits to annoy for a day then leave them alone. Sometimes he annoyed Price because the captain had some actually funny facial expressions and if Soap said something off putting, Price would let him know without any words. But he tried to leave Price alone as much as possible. He didn’t want to wear him out like he did Ghost.

So Gaz became his next target. After the first day of inserting himself into Gaz’s dad-to-day, he would talk about whatever with him. He could say things to Gaz that he couldn’t with recruits or with Price (his judging facial expressions were amusing but did have a impact after a bit). Gaz would engage back, which was a nice change to the hesitant replies from the recruits or the short replies from Price (who was usually working on something when Soap “graced” him with his presence).

He found Gaz in Price’s office filing things away for the man while he was away. He decided to join him, pulling a chair from the corner of the room and sitting next to Gaz. After a minute they started talking about random things. Then Gaz asked him a question.

“Soap, I have to know… did you and Ghost get into a fight or something?”

Soap was doodling on his arm with a marker when Gaz asked this. He looked up with a confused expression, “No?”

“Really? Everyone thought something happened between you two since you’re not hanging out anymore.”

“I left before something did happen,” Soap replied as he returned to doodling.

It was Gaz’s turn to be confused, “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Garrick. Man was bound to snap givin’ how much I bothered him!”

“Didn’t really look like you were bothering him. He’s been upset since you started avoiding him.”

Soap stops again, the felt tip of the marker presses into his skin. He’s been doing such a good job of avoiding Ghost and giving him his space that he hadn’t noticed how the man reacted to all of this.

“Upset? Sure it’s not been relief?”

He forced a laugh at the end of that statement but Gaz wasn’t laughing back.

“Soap, man is one wrong tone away from ripping someone’s head off. That’s why everyone thinks you two got into a fight. But you just left without any reason?”

Soap stares at Gaz, “What?”

“Soap… He’s been pissed at the world since his best friend just abandoned him!”

Best friend?

Those words shook Soap to his core. All his previous “best friends” were some poor sods who were a bit too friendly with him and Soap latched onto them, mistaking their tolerance for acceptance. He would notice after being dropped by someone he saw as his best friend that people would refer to them as his victim, not his friend. He never heard anyone referred to as his friend in general, let alone best friend.

“I’m-I’m not- He’s not my best friend. He could barely tolerate me…”

Gaz chose then to laugh, “You’re pulling my leg!”

When Gaz finally stopped laughing and noticed the incredibly confused look on Soap’s face. His smile drops and a grim look takes over.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

Soap shakes his head wordlessly.

“Seriously? You’re like his favorite person out of everyone anywhere. He likes you over Laswell!”

“No he doesn’t-“

“Man, yes he does! Where have you been where you think that you’re not Ghost’s favorite person?”

Soap stands abruptly, “Stop fucking with me, Gaz!”

Gaz flinches, “Soap-“

“Where have I been? Where have you been?! There is no way Ghost likes me- I’m just an annoying fly in his ear.”

Soap was nicknamed “Fly” as a kid by his dad, said he was as annoying and hard to get rid of as the actual insect. When he left for the military and eventually earned the callsign “Soap”, he never thought he would feel relief to be called a cleaning product before.

Soap storms off, leaving Gaz staring at him with concern written across his face. He all but ran out of the base, not caring how many people he almost ran into on his way out. He didn’t care that it was pouring rain or that he didn’t have a jacket on him, just a long sleeved shirt and some joggers on. He absentmindedly pushed his sleeve down on the arm he was doodling on as he walked. It was cold like hell froze over, which would have had to happen for Gaz, anyone, to think that Ghost liked him.

He came to a sewer pipe that they practiced crawling through with gear on to prepare for the field. But for now it was a place to hide. Soap crawled inside, finding it much roomier without twenty/thirty pounds of gear on. He curls up in a fetal position, every bit of his childhood, every moment that led up to him becoming who he was. To the mask that he wore every day. It all flooded over him.

His sisters complaining when he tried to play with them. His mother swatting him when he forgot to stop talking. His father forgetting to pick him up after school. His classmates talking about him behind his back. One of his teachers muttering “Something’s not right with him” as he walked away from her desk. His first boyfriend telling him that he was too clingy and that it was creeping him out. His first “best friend” telling him he was too weird and talked too much.

Once the dam broke he couldn’t stop the tears.

Out of all the cruel things that happened to him throughout the years, this was the cruelest of them all. That brief moment where he actually believed that Ghost liked him. That his laughs were genuine when Soap told a joke. That he actually paid attention when he told a story. That when Soap was excited about something he actually stopped to listen. But none of that was real.

Because Soap was a bit too much for anyone to handle.

[starshipsofstarlord]

JJ’s Sugar Mama Pays His Bail

Summary -> JJ’s sugar mama Y/N pays his bail, but he isn’t as grateful as she expected him to be. And so she makes him sorry (1.6k)

Warnings -> 18+ minors dni pleeeaassseeee, smut, oral sex (f receiving), angst, arrest, handcuff kink

jj maybank works other outer banks works masterlist

He was sat in the yellow tinted room, alone with his own wandering thoughts; he had done everything for his friends, and the one time he was selfish, this was where he ended up - in the slammer, just like his dad.He shouldn’t have spent that money, that much was obvious, that could have covered his backside to him being a free man, without a split lip and a debt hanging over his shoulders, but there was nothing that he could do to change his actions now.

This was his punishment, being all alone, and as much as he didn’t want it, he deserved it deep down, or so he thought.

If only he could ride away into the sunset with his bike beneath him, and drift away from the Maybank curse, then he most definitely would. The officers weren’t surprised to have him coiled up in their custody, they’d all boasted that they knew it was a matter of time, he was the most volatile pogue they had ever wanted to capture, and their wishes of taking him away in the back of their siren wailing car had eventually become true.

Nobody would resolve this consort of issues he had dug himself down into, even if they wanted to they were powerless to the bribed force that resides in the Cut. His friends could never afford to free him from the shackles that were this cell… though he had some faith in them when he heard the heavy foot falls of a man with a scrambled moustache whom was dressed in the unmistakable uniform.

JJ spoke no word to him, however the officer did to him, he made a statement, one he was not overly joyous about. “Your bails been paid Maybank, clearly someone has too much money on their hands to let you rot out in here for whatever reason.” The pogue wanted to bite back at his offender but he remained quiet as the barred door was unlocked, and like a lost child he mindlessly followed the cop, wishing he could defend John B, or Pope, or Kiara; whichever one paid for his freedom.

But none of them were in the cramped lobby, or waiting outside, however there was a familiar and sleek car without a scratch this glinted before his eyes, making it simple as to whom his saviour was. She was leant up against the vehicle, sunglasses shielding her eyes as she ignored the curious eyes of passers-by that dared to glance at her.

“Y/N.” He called out her name, slipping past the officers that suspiciously watched as he retreated to the woman that was awaiting on his behalf. “Why are you here? Did you..”

“You know I got you out of there JJ.” She sighed, finally slipping her black mirrored glasses from her face and folding them into her hands. “You don’t need to ask that, as soon as I heard I knew I had to get you released as quickly as possible. A place like that doesn’t deserve for you to be in there, you’re far too good.”

The blonde gulped as he took a step towards her so that their conversation could be on a more private level. “I’m not Y/N/N, I deserved to be in there.” And he believed it, far too much. “You shouldn’t have wasted your money, especially on me. In fact I think you should stop pitying me so much, I’m probably going to keep getting locked up and if you keep bailing me out then you’re going to be as broke as I am.”

He was trying to push her away, distance himself so that he could prove himself for once and for all. When he and his friends finally got that gold, he could make something of himself, and then, and only then, he might deserve her…

“Hey! I don’t pity you, I care about you, there’s a very distinct difference. I believe in you, JJ Maybank, and I wish you would too. Because you’re going to do great things, and I hope to always be one of the people witnessing them. And I don’t care about the money, it means nothing.”

JJ couldn’t help but release a pent up scoff. “Money might mean nothing to you Y/N, but you haven’t had to survive your whole life without it. Can you just take me to my shabby little home so that you can go back to your chic lifestyle and forget about me?" He was being surprisingly brash, he'd never spoken to Y/N that way. He'd always been grateful for the things that she had done for him, but this instance wasn't upon the ladder of his appreciation.

"I could never forget about you J, so will you shut up and get in the car, you're coming with a ride with me. And if you don't like that, it won't be the officers of the law putting you in handcuffs." Y/N saw his mouth about to open, and so she ensured it closed before he could get a sound out. "Don't be a damn brat and do as I say. Now."

She was strict, but she had to be. The line for confessing her feelings to her sugar baby had almost been crossed, and she had to enforce herself not to almost make that mistake again. But with truth, she'd rather survive without the luxuries that made her life what it was than without JJ. For she was just his human credit card, that came running in his times of need, nothing more and nothing less.

He would never be able to feel anything romantic for her, she was his opposite, and sometimes they didn't understand each other, however the tone of voice she had struck him with seemed to work, as he clambered into the passenger side of her vehicle and awaited for her to join him under its roof. "Seatbelt." She instructed him as she watched the pogue out of the corner of her eye, turning the ignition so that she could speed away from the place that he had been locked up.

He was all too familiar with the route of her home, and so he made his way into it, up to the bedroom that was tidy from the freshly made bed and cleaned carpet. "Considering how you spoke to me earlier, I might just put the cuffs on you anyways." They glittered sinfully beneath the light, blinding JJ with his shimmering desires. He willingly, and apologetically held out his hands, prepared to feel the metal scuff the skin around his wrists.

JJ despised being seen as vulnerable, but when he was in such a state he felt safe when Y/N was there, she looked after him, made him feel as though there was nobody that could hurt him. “I’m sorry.” He needed her to forgive him, he hated himself for ever speaking for her in the manner that he had, she was the last person in the world that deserved his attitude. With a loud click the handcuffs were secured onto him, and he realised, he was indeed guilty. He was terrible for speaking to Y/N like that, he was emitting his ravenous emotions, all because of his mistakes, one of which he found greater than the others.

It was never supposed to happen but he had started falling for her, but he didn’t want to drown in regret. If he were to express his feelings this charade that they played would no doubt come to an end, and so he could not allow that to happen. He couldn’t lose her, he had lost enough people in his life. His tongue swiped out from his mouth to collect the anxious sweat on his top lip, as he ogled up at the dominant beauty above him. She was perfect, and he was simply just a pogue. “You should be.” Y/N pressed, her brow arching in a sly rise of optimism. “But you’re going to make it up to me.” She dragged him onto the bed, her hand tangled in the roots of his blond hair, finding pleasure in his pained yet aroused whimpers.

“I will.” He nodded exasperatedly, desperate for her forgiveness, wishing he could claw at her back for comfort and a sense of solace. But she silenced her when she raised her hips over his face, her skirt riding up high on her thighs, and her lace covered mound suffocating any further sounds that wished to part from his lips. His moans were muffled as he instantly got to work, mouthing at the fabric that separated him from what he wished to be his last meal, he was so turned on, it wasn’t fair. This was his punishment and a gift all at once.

Y/N’s eyelashes fluttered as she lazily smirked to herself, a light moan falling from her lips as she rode his face. She wanted to get lost in him, or in this case, on top of him. He was all that she wanted, and this was the only way in which she could have him, and so she would settle for that at this time. She slipped her panties to the side, allowing him to taste the real thing without any obstacles blocking the path of his hungry tongue, because she wanted to feel good too.

And this was the only way. Because maybe JJ was right, her lifestyle was far different to his, she wasn’t a pogue like him, and she had money. But what she wanted with JJ was priceless, she would give it all up if she could do it all over again with him. She bit her lip, relishing in the feeling that her sexual loved was giving her rather than the painful thoughts that invaded her mind.

[yourmidnightlover]

i just saw a tiktok of the i carly episode where carly is running away from the nerdy guy bc he kept trying to kiss her and now i’m thinking bucky.

like you’re steve’s sister and you’ve always been seen as the stereotypical “annoying younger sister” while you have the stereotypical “crush on your brothers best friend.” no biggie.

he would come over all the time, hang out, watch movies, spend the night, whatever. sometimes he even came over just because he’s board and waiting on steve to get back from one of his courses or something.

he was nice to you though, as much as he liked to agree with steve that you were a nuisance. the soft smiles he gave you proved otherwise.

sometimes he would even invite you to watch movies with them, going as far as to wrapping his arm around you if you got scared during a particularly gruesome halloween movie marathon.

but there’s one day in particular where your government professor demanded your project be worked on in pairs and this guy was very persistent in being your partner. as soon as it was announced to be partner work, he was turning to you and writing down his number. you didn’t really get a chance to say no to the guy.

you think his name was john? Lord knows.

so there you were, upstairs in your room, trying to get a game plan for this treacherous project. well, the project itself wouldn’t be treacherous, but working with john would be.

“okay, so they want us to map out the different circuits in the-“

“yea, yea whatever,” he cut you off as you began writing in your notebook, taking your pencil and the paper to set it aside. “we both know that’s not why i’m here.”

you waited a breath, “actually, that is why you’re here. that’s the only reason i even talked to you,” you shrugged with your brows pulled together in confusion.

as much as you try to be a nice person, this guy had practically forced you to partner with him and you’d be damned if he’s going to assume your own intentions.

“sure it is,” he inched closer to you, his hand trailing up to your cheek before you got up from your chair and pushed him away by nudging his chest.

“woah there, buddy boy,” you scoffed as you backed away from him. “i dunno what signals you misread here, but i’m not into-“

“i’m not misreading anything,” he shook his head as he stepped closer to you. “i get it though; you wanna play hard to get. it’s cute, really.”

“i see,” he forced out a laugh. “this is a joke. not a very good one, but points for trying,” you gave him two thumbs up before pushing his chest once more with your fist. “now back away.”

he leaned in once more before you dodged out of his way, pushing him down and beelining for the door, screaming steve’s name in your wake.

“steve! stevie! he’s trying to kiss me!” you continued as you finally made your way to the living room where he and bucky typically resided.

upon entrance, there was no steve to be seen, but you heard johns footsteps following not too far behind. bucky, however, was there. he was already on his feet, making his way towards you in your panting state.

“what’s goin’ on?” one of his hands went for your shoulder, the other going towards your waist. “breathe for me, doll.”

“he’s trying to shove his lips on my face and i don’t want that,” you dramatically paraphrased.

his face went stoic at your admission before he turned towards the incoming footsteps. john froze as his sight landed on bucky. you swore you heard an audible gulp as bucky approached him. you were sure from john’s perspective he had augmented himself to appear more threatening. not that bucky needed it, he had plenty of muscle that when paired with the right look, he could be easily intimidating.

“i didn’t-“ john cut himself off as bucky stood right before him. “i swear, i-“

“are you trying to say you didn’t try to kiss her?” he cut john off. “are you calling her a liar?” he barely towered over the pathetic man, but with the way john was cowering bucky had seemed five feet taller than him. “my princess isn’t a liar.”

“no! no, i-“ he threw his hands up in defense.

“i mean, i get she’s gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want with her,” bucky shoved his shoulder gently. “didn’t your ma’ ever teach you how to properly court a lady?”

“she-i’m sorry, man,” john panted out. “look, i didn’t know she was taken, like at all. i didn’t mean any-“

“i don’t care what you meant,” he swiftly grabbed his arm and turned john around, pinning it behind his back as he hissed out in pain. “i don’t ever want to see you so much as breathe near her again, got it?”

“yea-yes!” he nodded exaggeratedly. “i swear, man! i won’t be a problem!”

“good,” he used this time to usher him out the door, slamming it as soon as he turned back around.

“thank you, jamie,” you sighed as you plopped down on the coach where he had once resided. “i don’t even know why he thought he would be able to pull that off,” you scoffed as you shook your head, grabbing the remote and changing the channel.

“hey, i was watching a documentary!” he interrupted your thought process as he snatched the remote from your hands.

you chuckled lightly as you replayed the entire scene in your head. you kicked your feet up on the ottoman, trying to bite back a smile as you said, “so… you think i’m gorgeous, huh?”

he sighed as he plopped down beside you, his arm thrown on the back of the couch, “if you ever tell steve he’s gonna chop my head off.”

“well, as your princess, i can’t let that happen, can i?” you teased as you gently nudged his shoulder.

“look, that got him off your back, didn’t it?” his voice rose an entire octave as he threw his hands up in defense.

“he also thought i was taken,” you pointed out. “probably by you, might i add.”

“look, he got out of your hair, right?” you nodded. “then my job is done.”

“i’m just saying,” you sighed as you stared at the boring documentary he certainly was no longer focused on. “he’s probably gonna tell his friends. then they’re gonna tell their friends, and you get the point. meaning now everyone’s gonna think i’m taken by some strong, protective… guy.”

“what’s so bad about that?” he chuckled as he didn’t try at all to hide his little smile. “you don’t want people thinking i’m your strong, protective guy?”

“no, it’s just that-“

“sorry i’m late, buck!” steve rushed in the door.

you and bucky inched away from one another, which was odd. you weren’t doing anything, but it felt like you had crossed a line.

“debate went on so much longer this time, an argument broke out and then we had to recollect before final rebuttals and everything,” he rambled out as he plopped down in his favorite recliner. “so, how’re you guys doing?”

“we’re-“

“fine,” bucky cut you off. “we’re fine. nothing eventful. nothing happened. nothing at all, really.”

he turned to you with a slight smirk before turning back to steve.

oh, this was gonna be fun.

[strangersteddierthings]

Fic Masterpost

General Fic Tag Ao3 Account - All fics with [Ao3] next to them can be found here. Reference post for Steve's BMW

Bad News First, Eddie - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Shovel Talk(s) - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Porcelain Steve - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Final Part

What's Eight Plus Seven? - On Going - [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

The Interview - Completed [Ao3] The Interview (Part One) The Response (Part Two) The Conversation (Part Three) Untitled Song - A The Interview Tie-In Fic [Ao3]

No Regrets - On Going Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Good People - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

My Default’s Self-Destruct (Oh, I’m Not Used to Normal) - On Going Part One

Steve and Robin talk about how Steve wants to be romanced, instead of always doing the romancing.

Eddie's over dramatic, Steve talks him down, and they're okay in the end :)

Steve reflects on how other people make the decisions in his life and decides, y'know what? No. Fuck that and fuck you.

Beg You to Love Me - Steve and Eddie talk for the first time two and a half years after they break up. [Ao3]

Steve pines for Eddie and carves a pumpkin for the first time. He is completely normal about both things. [Ao3]

Eddie left, and has to face the consequences of that

Steve has great parents and goes to therapy. Too bad he forgot to tell his friends that [Ao3]

Middle School Meet Cute? [Ao3]

One sentence and one phone call are all it takes for Steve to realize he needs to go after what he wants [Ao3]

Steve's sad, Eddie's an (accidentally on-purpose) jerk, and the miscommunication gets solved? [Ao3]

Steve gets Vecna'd and a terrible rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody saves him

Angsty Ella Enchanted AU

Steve finds it funny, the differences between him and Eddie.

#81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” [Ao3]

#23. “Just pretend to be my date.” and #60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” [Ao3]

#60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." [Ao3]

#13. "I dare you to kiss me"

Requested by Anon - Eddie catches Billy throwing Steve around in the locker room; it leads to an unintentional deescalation of the situation and a conversation Eddie's surprised to have. [Ao3]

Steddie Week 2023: Day 1: Pining [Ao3]

Anon Prompt - Robin brags about her boyfriend to Steve. He's a little jealous, because he wants to brag about his own boyfriend but doesn't know if Robin is safe to tell that too. Until, whoops, turns out Robin's BF and Steve's BF are the same boyfriend. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't want to be put on a pedestal. Eddie doesn't understand, and tries to reassure Steve. [Ao3]

Eddie's friends try to prove Steve's cheating on him. Eddie doesn't take kindly to them trying to ruin his relationship for no reason.

Plot Idea I’ll never fully flush out or write but gotta get out of my head or it’ll never let me know peace again. It’s basically Steve sent from the future going all John Wick.

Steve-focused ficlet exploring the idea of Steve becoming a Mean Girl because he learned his tactics from Carol Perkins rather than Tommy, and how he regrets the results of that.

Domestic Bliss fluff fic that ends in a loving blow job. Minors DNI. [Ao3]

Childhood Best Friends AU where Steve and Eddie agree to learn the elvish script from The Hobbit so they can pass notes and no one can read them. Things get a little messy when Eddie moves away with no notice but Steve takes it upon himself to learn Elvish anyway. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't think before he all but crawls seductively into Eddie's lap accidentally. There's also not much thinking once he realizes what he's done, or in the aftermath of it. [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy Are Cousins [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are all cousins, and Gareth doesn't want anyone to know that. For his street cred.

The Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are cousins AU gets sad (Sad AU Part 1).

Steve realizes he's the only adult left In The Know in Hawkins; Gareth wants answers, one way or another (Sad AU Part 2).

Steve doesn't attend a funeral; Gareth goes with Jason&Co to Reefer Ricks (Sad AU Part 3).

The gang arrives at Skull Rock and Steve learns Gareth's now involved. Robin learns the truth (Sad AU Part 4).

Vecna gives Steve the vision and forces him to make a choice (Sad AU Part 5).

Everyone learns they are cousins now and it goes well. Gareth makes his own plan to save the day. (Sad AU Part 6).

Wayne joins the fight and Gareth ensures that Max gets saved (Sad AU Part 7).

The cousins reconcile. Max and Steve don't (yet). It's as happy an end as a Sad AU can get (Sad AU Final Part).

Time Travel Fix It Fic

Class of '85 [Ao3]

Save Max [Ao3]

September Prompts 2023

Coffee Smell ○ Horizon ○ Foggy Mornings ○ Jukebox ○ "Kiss me or leave me" ○ "Did you lie to me?" ○ Bonfire ○ Recipe Book ○ Gas Station