#riot guy

[faangirl101]

Revolution pt3, spec ops guys x reader

PART 1      PART 2

Pairings: Alpha/tank x reader,Riot/reader

Warnings: pain, violence

Authors note: I was thinking about making a taglist! Write to me if you want to be on it!

The sun peeked inside the curtains, creeping across the walls like dew down a leaf a spring morning. I groaned when it finally reached my face, leaving a greenhouse warmth inside the blanket wrapped around my body. Finally well rested, more rested then id been in weeks, i sat up. With a hunched back supported against the headboard. Hesitant, i moved the white blanket off the rest of my body. I hissed for myself as i saw the clear evidence of green and blue smattered like paint across certain spots. I with care slid my fingers across it, remembering the feeling of rubber bullets drilling into my skin. i shook off the thought and let my hand travel up my thigh. There was other marks, red and shaped like a garlic clove. I smiled and tried to hold back the shiver. The nights more pleasant activities started playing over in my head. Hands against wet tile, his hands gripping my hips. Head leaned backwards, stars moving around my vision. How riot did not only give me the best orgasm in my life, but also cared for my wounds, handed me painkillers and let me sleep with a kiss on top of my forehead. The feel of lips burned on my head and i bit my lip at the thought of seeing him again. And tank.

My stomach immediately dropped at his name. His scolding was not a pleasant memory. I decided to not think about it more, not really longing for the weight of anxiety in the depth of my stomach. I threw my legs across the side of the bed, dangling my feet for a second before placing them on the ground. With some hestiance i got up, realizing that the pain had gotten better. Well not better, but easier to handle. I ignored my head begging me to go back to sleep as i started limping down the stairs. I was met with an inviting smell. Coffee.

The previous anxiety was long gone as i tried not to squeal in the happiness. I loved coffee. "Is it okay if i take a cup?", i asked as i took the final step into the kitchen.The man in front of me was not Riot. He had a pale complexion but there was a tint of something else then white. His hair was short, a brown newly woken up mess on top of his head. His figure was giant, stretching up next to the cupboard. There was only so many tall men in this house. Tank, i supposed, jumped at my voice. He looked in my directions, the earlier droopy sleepy eyes turned into green orbs of anger? He really hated me.

"Sorry", i mumbled, fiddleting nervously with the long black t-shirt riot had given me the day before "i didn't mean to startle you".

He made a motion i could really only place as rolling his eyes. "yeah take a cup, you're our guest after all", there was venom in his words, spit out against me making my heartburn. Burning in rage, i wasn't really known for my self control. "Hey", i pointed a finger at him like he had the previous day "i don't know why you hate me, i have not done anything to you". He looked shocked at my outburst before quickly collecting himself. "I don't hate you", he didn't even look at me "i just don't understand why you have to be here. The fact that you suck at protesting, is not our responsibility". His eyes turned away from me finally got to me. I grasped his wrist, hard, and pulled him so he was facing me. He looked down at our skin contact with an unplaceable emotion mirroying behind his light eyes. His skin was hot against me. For some reason he was so inhuman in my eyes i didn't expect body warmth. "I wanted to make a change!", i snapped, still not dropping his hand "okay! I felt useless just signing petitions and rolling my thumbs, i wanted to make a change". His face softened into a expression rather pleasant on his face. Now, with his full attention on me i actually had time to get a good look at him. He was handsome, freckles spread across his nose, full lips a straight line. His jaw was tensed as he watched me search him. "That's why me and Riot protest, we know what we're doing. That's why people like you stay at home", his words were hard but his voice was a different tone. Humorous. He dropped my hand and the sudden forced activity in my shoulder made me hiss in pain. He looked me up and down, eyes staying a bit longer on the bruises on my legs. He opened his full lips half way, something passing by his mouth. For a second i thought he was going to add something but instead he pursed his lips together and turned his back against me. That was the end of our short conversation i supposed. Like walking over glass i sneaked to one of the cupboards, lifting down a cup and moving back to the coffee machine.

Tank's presence in the room was intimidating me. I held my breath as if i was a kid playing hide and seek. My heart was pounding so hard that my body must think i was being chased. But i was still, in a kitchen with a mug tightly clutched to my chest. I gulped down the loud breath threatening to escape as i started pouring the coffee. I watched the coal pitch black liquid swapping up the side of the mug, mesmerized by something so simple. I tried no to shake too much when i put the can of coffee back, feeling tanks hot eyes on me. "What's your name?", the sudden question startled me to the very core. I was surprised i didn't drop the mug. "Y/n", i had my back against him. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how nervous i was. He hummed, either in a positive manner or mocking my name. It was hard to tell. "So.. you're going to go home and roll your thumbs and sign petitions now?", i got the sense that his statement was a subtle way of throwing me out. I pursed my lips, knowing deep down he was making fun of me. For not being able to protest.

Fuck him

"I'm going to protest", I sipped the coffee, enjoying the warm bitter taste on my tongue. I heard him sign "yeah, Riot guessed you would say that". I couldn't hold back the aggressive blush at the mention of Riot, glad that Tank couldn't see my face. I needed to see Riot again. I needed to touch him again. I suppressed the warmth rising in my chest with another hot gulp of the beverage in my hands.

)(

"Where's Riot?", i tried to sound nonchalant, as if my heart wasn't currently pounding violently. I could already see the protests in the distance as i pulled up the ski mask a bit so i could get a good breath. Tank was moving next to me, large as ever. I looked so ridiculously small, pathetic next to him that it made me angry. "He's on another protest, we move protests by following a schedule. We can't be seen together. Do you know what that means?", his question caught me off guard. I zipped up my thick hoodie enough to cover the last piece of visible skin. "Um", i didn't really even understand his question. "Hey", he snapped and grasped my chin to roughly turn my head to his direction. He had to lower down to talk down my face "Since Riot can't be here to babysit you, he left you to me. I'm going to actually make a change, and you sit still and quiet and don't make a sound, capish?". I lifted my head to strain against his grasp "doesn't that work towards the whole point of protesting. Stay quiet? You're not taking away my voice to fight the power i hope? Tank". I pushed his name past my lips as if it was a curse word. He stayed quiet for so long i started regretting my words, thinking of ways to save myself. He dropped his hand, wiping his helmet "watch it, baby". I knew deep down he was simply referring to the fact that he was babysitting me, but the nickname made a wave of heat creep over my body. I had to run to keep up with Tanks longs legs, ignoring the familiar feelings rising in my body. I did not have time for that.

Some time had passed. The police had put up a good defense even if the protester won over them in numbers. My number one priority? was first: protest for the rights of black lives. Second?, proving to Tank i could protest. In the beginning i had stayed pretty close to him but i had thickened the distance when i realized that his area was far too difficult for a riot beginner. Instead i had moved to the first aid hut placed in the center where new protesters was rushed by minutes. I didn't know much about rioting but knew one or another thing about taking care of wounds. So after an hour of pouring milk down tear gassed throats and stopping flowing blood from busted noses, i had forgotten all about Tank. Well, until he was limping over to the hut. One hand tightly grasped around his forearm. Despite all our previous painful words i rushed over to him.

"Shut up", he mumbled before i could even get a word out. Annoyed i pushed him down a bench with a huff. Then, with more care then he deserved, i slowly intertwined our hands in order to lift his hesitant hand from the wound. I tried to ignore the horrific sight of the left remains of a crushed glass bottle in the blood splattered wound. I didn't even notice i let our hands stay intertwined, maybe because the gloves hid his body warmth. But he noticed, his eyes stayed on our hands in his lap the entire time. Every time i pulled out a glass shart he hissed and tightened his grip on my hand. I couldn't hold back the two rapid heartbeats rising. Something about the closeness, yet the distance between me and Tank was..... interesting to say at least.

"There", i mumbled, softer then i had ever been to him. He didn't curse at me, or make an unpleasant noise. He stayed quiet as our fingers slowly fell apart. I wondered what face he was making underneath the mask. Was he angry? Upset? Happy?. In my mind, he was half smirking. But i had been wrong many many times before.

I turned my head when there was loud yelling behind us. A police officer was hovering over the medics i had worked side by side with today. "You have no right to be here", the pig spit, using his body frame to intimidate the smaller black women in front of him. His height didn't scare me, i mean i had spent the night over at two extremely large mens house. "Hey!", i didn't realize it was my own voice until i saw heads turning my directions. I could feel Tank fumbling out his hand to hold be back but i had already moved across the asphalt in long steps. "We're not protesting. We're helping people, that's not illegal. We're not blocking any roads.Sir", i knew everyone in the crowd could hear the venom behind my words. The cop looked stressed, he was sweating like a scorched pig. "Listen here, girl", he grunted "i suggest you take a step back". I fought the urge to smile, knowing it would infuriate him even more. I looked down at our shoes before lifting my head to meet his eyes, mostly for dramatic effect. "Or what?", i bit my lips hesitantly.

Well it was the last thing i had time to do before the hardback of the baton was flying down my side. I doubled over, groaning in pain. But i didn't have time to feel sorry for myself. I saw in the corner of my eye how the police lifted his baton once again. Before thinking it over i grasped the baton mid air, ignoring the burning sensation in my hand and muscle tissue. The police face fell, but my lifted. In the gods. With the force i didn't know i had, i pushed down his own hand to his face, the baton knocking him out cold. He slumped down in a pile beneath me. The hoards of people around me was yelling in harmonie, it was like gospel to my ears. Hand clapping, boots stomping. Tank was on my side in time for another pair of claps. But the tight grip on my arm was threatening. I gulped down the rising anxiety. I had just attacked a cop. Attackled a officer. Me, who cannot kill a bug. "Lets go", Tank growled and pulled me hard to his side.

[faangirl101]

Revolution pt 1, Spec op guys x reader

PART 2

Pairings: Alpha/tank x reader,Riot/reader

Warnings:smut,  pain

Authors note: I am in love with the protesting spec ops guys soooo, heres a little something. Hope you like 

I raised my tear gassed eyes, trying to take in my surroundings. The ringing in my ears was pounding so hard i could've swore it made the ground around me shake under my scraped up palms. All i could make out in front of me was blurry fronts of people running fot their life. Well one figure wasn't moving, even though smoke was devouring him. His huge frame, seeming to stretch for 7 feet clothed in military level protection gear, bended forward to pick up the hand smoke grenades flying his directions. He grasped it in one go and sent it twirling in the police force directions. I could hear stressed calls from the other side as the man seemed to take a few steps back. His stance was in defense, ready to catch more grenades.

"Hey girl! You gotta move", i could barely make out the slurred calls from behind when the ringing in my ears was getting worse. The man in front of me threw a look behind him to see what the fuss was about when he caught my eye. Well i suppose it was his eye, it was hard making out behind the spec ops mask over his face. Before i could open my mouth he was rushing over at me. Even if his figure seemed miles away it was right in front of me in a few steps thanks to his huge legs. "Move", the masculine voice was muffled by the mask but i could still make out the tint of annoyance. Finally i realized my surroundings. The shock and adrenaline rushed off and i could feel the pain moving similar to a fog across my slumped body. I groaned as i rasped my palms against the rough asphalt. The man made a huff as he grasped my arms in a hard grip, so hard i bet it would bruise more than the impact of the ground. "Move", he repeated through gritted teeth as he in ease lifted me up on wobbly legs. I nodded, deciding it was best to obligate him. He gave me one last glance before he let go of my arm. It was a miracle that my legs not only  did not give in, but also successfully carried me away from the scene.

When i assumed i was safe, behind a car down the street, i slid down the wheels. I ignored the burn of the rubber on my back. I couldn't really tell if the tears moving down my red cheeks were from the cs particles inbred in my eyes or the pain of the rubber bullet shot at my back right by my spine. I supported my head on the car behind me. Fuck, i knew i should've stayed at home.

"The protests that at first was peaceful, has quickly turned into a planned attack against the police. The hoards of thugs are breaking into stores, burning down buildings and starting riots against the police force. Please help inform the authorities if you are aware of any neighbours or fellows who are taking place in the violent riot-", i rolled my eyes and turned of the TV. The media was once again doing what they do best, cherry pick. They had of course refused to inform the public of the violent and unnecessary procedures the police had taken. Given a women miscarriage, massed a child, crushed an old man's skull. The sudden wave of rage rolling through my body was used to throw the remote down at the couch. I had done the most like signed petitions, donated what i could afford, spoken out on social media and spread awareness. But i felt useless, like i wasn't doing a real change. I was watching the revolution from the shadows, quiet and invisible. I knew the danger of rioting, especially for someone who knew nothing of it. But they were out there, doing something more than rolling their thumbs. I wasn't a violent person, never been, but watching the oppression on black neighbours, friends, fellows had my head boiling. In a moment, i decided. i was going to stop rolling my thumbs, i was going to do a change. Without a second thought i started to collect necessaries like face covers and water. Then i left the house in a hurry, something i would come to regret later.

The pictures passing by my brain came in distance, like watching an old picture movie. First the ground swinging below me. then came the image of a chest pressed against my body, then came the darkening sky above me. But then i decided to close out my surroundings, the pounding headache stopping me from truly understanding my situation.

Next time my eyes were opening, well the best they could from the tear gas glueng my eyelids together, i was in a unfamiliar room. White walls, blue couch, spinning fan. Boring room. Not mine. I furrowed my eyebrows when the panic finally settled in. Where was i?

Kidnapped? possibly

I tried my best to sit up but the pain suddenly shooting down my spine made me slouch back in my previous position. I couldn't tell if the almost too soft couch under me was making the pain worse or better. "Good, your awake", a masculine voice boomed through the room. I whimpered in defeat as i realized i could hardly speak or move away from my kidnapper. "Hey! hey", the owner of the voice finally came in view "your pretty scratched up, please take it ease". The man was familiar, begging to be remembered in the back of my head. Another Second passed before i realized who stood in front of me. The man from earlier, who threw grenades back at the police. He was even more intimidating shadowing over my smaller body on the couch, still fully dressed in his protections gear. This time around, in less blurry circumstances i noticed long brown dreads stretching down the side of his front. huh

"You were the one that threw grenades at the police" my voice came out so dry i barely noticed it myself. I could see my pathetic self in the reflection of his bruised helmet. "That was me", another man stepped forward, dressed in almost identical protection as the man. This one, somehow equally tall but without dreads. I tensed up at his tone, evidence of annoyance visible behind it. "What were you thinking? huh?", he leaned down closer to be making me feel possibly shorter than before "showing up completely unprepared for a protest, no protection or gear. What did you think would happen?". It felt like i was being scolded as a child. I dropped my attention to the floor, blocking out his hard voice. I had the habit of crying when getting angry or pretty much experiencing any human emotion whatsoever. "Hey!", a softer voice from the other male "Tank, take it easy on her". Tank? What kinda fucking name was that?. I was getting noticeably angry, as i felt the tears starting to rise. Tank was right, i was stupid and reckless. I should've prepared, done my research. I was completely out of my field compared to these guys that seems like professionals. Possibly trained.

i had to get out of here, away from these guys. Away from the scolding. Despise the rush of adrenaline, the pain when i tried to stand up made me cry out. Both of the men rushed over to me as if in a shared instinct. the guy that wasn't tank reached out for my arm but i moved against the screaming of my brain. In a rushed other try i got up on wobbly legs. One step, fuck fuck fuck. Sweat coarsed down my skin from the strength every step took. But before i even had a chance of reaching the door it was covered by a huge frame. Tank. Motherfucker. Tears were prickeling from the overwhelment of everything. Pain, shame, exhaustion.

"Get out of my way", i said through teeth so gritted they were squeaking against each other. He huffed annoyed and before i knew the word of it he had literally swept me of my feet. i couldn't stop the violently rising blush from being carried bridal style by a stranger. "You're not getting away that easy", he muttered and defeated, i relaxed my body in his arms.

[visualtones]

Riot Guy - Brief Moments of Popularity

1995