#and I love that they must be close enough that John can tease him about it
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youtube
This is fantastic in so many ways
#Stephen is sooooo tired#and I love that they must be close enough that John can tease him about it#John is always good value but this was extra good#I hope Stephen can catch some sleep at some point#doing a live show on Sunday and then presumably a full week of shows must be knackering#stephen colbert#john oliver#lssc#Youtube
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heyy - 🍄
Can you write something with 141 reacting to the reader going to sleep alone in another room? like just the reader wanting to be alone or they fought. the way you prefer
Hurt/comfort ♥️ your writing is my favorite
Hi! 🍄Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this prompt!
He thought you were being dramatic. Too sensitive. And he made sure to let you know.
“It was just a joke, sweetheart. Nothing more. I’m a light sleeper, you know that.” His voice was careful, yet firm.
Even though he had assured you he hadn’t meant anything by it, here you were, staring at the ceiling as pm turned into am. He had his arm snug around you, tucking you under his chin. Normally this position had you out like a light, but now you were just focusing on trying not to breath too hard.
Earlier that day the two of you were relaxing on the couch when you commented on his yawn.
“You’ve been yawning a lot, Si. Should put you to bed early.” You snickered.
“Your fault.” He yawned again. “Movin around every five second.” His tone was teasing. His fingers even brushed up and down your foot that was resting in his lap. Despite this, your heart dropped. Were you really that uncomfortable to share a bed with?
Laying in bed was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Your side ached from you spending too much time on it. Your nose hadn’t stopped itching and it took everything in your power not to scratch it every five seconds. Even your quieted breathing felt like it was shaking the bed. The guest room was sounding more and more inviting. You’d be able to flip over whenever you wanted. Scratch that nose of yours, all without having to worry about stirring the sleeping giant behind you.
You carefully gripped his arm and squirmed your way out from under it. He woke up halfway, holding his arm up for you.
“Sorry, Si.” You whispered, guilt already tugging at you.
“Don’t even think about it.” He assured in a groan. He watched with curious eyes as you disappeared down the hall, instead of going to the bathroom like he assumed you were. You must be getting water.
One minuted turned into three, then three turned into five. He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face, your side of the bed already growing uncomfortably cold. His socked feet sunk into the plush carpet as he made his way down the hall. The kitchen light wasn’t on, but the guest bedroom that was normally shut was wide open. Even in the darkness he could make out the lump of your body- already asleep.
The realization was instant. And it hurt.
“Sweetheart.” He knocked at the open door. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. He needed to. You gasped awake, your head springing up from the pillows. It seemed even your absence kept him awake. “What do I have to say for you to get out of that head of yours?” He hummed, plopping down next to you. He leaned over you, pressing a slow kiss against your forehead.
“I just feel bad knowing I’m constantly waking you up.” You murmured, rubbing at your eyes.
“Sweetheart, waking up to you isn’t something to feel bad about. It’s nice, being woken up just because someone wants to be closer to you. Now we are going to knock it off with all this ‘afraid to wake me up shit’ and go back to our bed, you hear me?”
You did hear him.
“John, enough! I’m tired of arguing with you, I’m ready to go to bed.” You growled. He followed closely behind you towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his white dress shirt.
“Yeah, let’s just go to bed and forget all of this happened.” He mumbled from behind you. You began tugging off your clothes, throwing a glare his way.
“Don’t do that.” You chided, throwing you clothes on top of his in the hamper.
“Do what?” He gruffed back.
“Mumble things under your breath.” You explained. He tsked and rolled his eyes at you. The action caused another flare to ignite in your stomach. He reached into his dresser and pulled out a nightshirt, tugging it over his head. He reached back in and grabbed one for you, holding it out to you expectantly. It was your favorite shirt of his to wear.
“I’m not wearing that.” You spat, turning away from him. You marched to your shared bed and grabbed your pillow, beginning to make your way down the hallway.
“Where are you going?” He stopped you. His large frame taking up the whole doorway.
“John”-
“Love.” His voice was calm and you hated it. He should be more upset. Upset that you were upset with him. “Don’t go”-
“Why should I liste”-
“You need to stay in bed with me. That’s where you belong.” He said it as though it was a fact. “I know you’re not too happy with me right now, but you aren’t sleepin away from me tonight, honey. Now let’s go brush our teeth.”
*this is so dramatic*
Johnny had fucked up. He admitted it too. Yet it seemed no matter how many apologies flowed from him- you were determined to put a rift between the two of you. At least that’s how he saw it.
You yawned next to him on the couch, your hand brushing some hair out of your eyes.
“Gettin sleepy?” He hummed. You smiled softly, nodding your head.
“Should probably head to bed.” You yawned, stretching as you stood.
“You remember where it is?” It was a snotty comment. Distasteful. You had been sleeping in the guest bedroom for the past week. He was able to choke down his hatred for it the first few days, but after you referred to it as “your room” all grace had been lost.
“You just can’t help yourself can you?” You growled, not bothering to wait for an answer.
“Just don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on punishing me.” He shouted after you. You stopped, turning on your heels.
“Punishing you?” You snarled. “The only one getting punished in this situation is me John. I know to you I’m being dramatic but I really don’t know how I can trust you after all those shitty things you said to me.”
His chest twisted and his hand scratched at his shirt.
“I don’t know what else to do, sweetheart.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and it made you feel worse than you already did. “I’ve apologized in more ways than one and I’m still not getting through to you. I’m not saying I’m giving up, I just miss you. I know lashing out at you isn’t the answer.” He sighed rubbing at his face. He was exhausted- that was evident just by looking at him. You were his safe place- his favorite person in the whole world and he hurt you. “I made a mistake saying nasty shite to you, but I hope you remember everything before that. We’ve been together for years and I hoped I’ve showed you just how much I love you in that time.”
By the end of his speech tears were rolling down your cheeks.
“Dammit, Mac.” You huffed. You moved forward quickly, practically flinging yourself at him. He reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms tight around you with no intention to let you go. He wouldn’t let go till you forgave him.
You woke up to two arms wrapping around you.
“Ky.” You grumbled sleepily.
“You took so much medicine, I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He whispered back. You were sick and the last thing you wanted to do was get Kyle sick. He rubbed his hands over your stomach, the action already lulling you back to sleep.
“I just don’t want to make you sick.” You murmured. He ‘tsked’ at you, pulling you even closer to his warm body. You wished it was easier to stay away from him. He was the perfect temperature for your chilled body and he smelled like vanilla and coffee.
“I’d wear it like a badge of honor.” He smiled against you. You rolled your eyes.
“You just always find a way to make everything romantic don’t you.”
“Well I had to get you to fall for me one way.”
“Are you going to be this cheeky when you get sick?” You hummed.
“I wasn’t planning on it, but challenge accepted.”
#d0youc0py#doyoucopy#cod#cod men#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod mwf2#fluff#sfw#angst#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#captain john price#captain price x y/n#captain price x reader#price x reader#johnny soap mactavish#soap x y/n#soap x reader#soap x you#kyle gaz garrick#gaz nation#gaz x reader#gaz x you#price cod#soap cod#ghost cod
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⟣ Synopsis: Being fond of you brings him in a delusional state.
⟣ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader x John “Soap” MacTavish
⟣ Warnings: Unrequited love, Jealousy
⟣ This is my work, my writing. Do not steal or repost elsewhere.
Touching you is a crime and an honour. Oh, your skin silken-like, a brush against you is a luck and a violation.
Hearing you is a melody to me and a pique. Your demure of a tune brings me great pleasure and pain.
Seeing you is heaven-like and dreadful. How you turn my glimpse into a stare, it is concerning.
At the far end I situated myself, isolated from the throng yet close enough to adore and loathe you. A glass imprisoned in my hand, a Bourbon poured and a thought buried deep yet it always find its way back to the surface.
Must you be be so heedless? Heedless how you make everything about you, or perhaps it I that does so?
Must you appear where I have to be? Is this your way of teasing me? Perhaps I am delusional.
I cannot be.
I make note of your advances and never- not once they were a mere coincidence. Shall I play along to this game you began?
If you are the prize then I shall.
How graceful you are, I observe your every motion in secrecy. How you sway your sculpture-like vessel left and right. How I want to place my hands on you, you are unknowing of.
A lad- someone’s son you are dancing with, appearing as jolly as ever. It is one of things I am fond of and detest about you.
“Did not think you would come, LT.” A voice uttered, disrupting my thoughts and doing.
It is no other than Johnny, a sergeant from my task force, my friend and the lover of the woman who I was ogling not too long ago. A lucky bastard he is.
“A change for once.” I responded, avoiding his gaze and turning my head to the glass in my hand.
Halfway full, halfway empty.
Johnny reached below the table to grab something and divulges a present. “Bonnie over there-“ He began, before handing me the decorated box, “-wanted me to give this to you.”
The sergeant is proud, as he should be and there I admire the details of my gift from you.
Guilt and thrill you give me.
You should be ashamed.
He is a good man.
And the cause why I began to despise you.
For I cannot touch you as you are his to touch.
For I cannot hear you in a way that I please as you speak of his name.
For I cannot see you without him by your side.
For he is my brother and you, his lover.
For what we have is forbidden and unkind.
Perhaps this drink of mine is clouding my thoughts or you are ambling in my direction. “I see you received my gift, Lieutenant.” You spoke, shyness and exhaustion apparent in your voice. Johnny moved to give space for you and you collapsed beside him, your arm finding its way to his bicep. “I am sleepy, when can we go home?” You questioned him as if I was not there, negligent of how I would feel. “Soon, hen, soon.” He murmured in your hair before giving your forehead a peck.
You make me ill.
How could you behave this way in front of me? You pull me in and string me along, only to bring me pain.
Does it bring you joy?
Does it entertain you?
What is it that you want?
To make me fight for you?
To make my feelings known?
Yet I could only watch and restrain the battle in my mind.
I love and hate you.
Oh, how I would love to be in his place for I cannot take you away.
Yet I could only watch and have a drink from the glass to my sacrifice.
#simon riley#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#john mactavish#simon riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#modern warfare 2#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#cod#cod mw3#simon riley x you#ghost x you
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mistaken identity
Cleaned up an old draft.
Shy/introverted gn!reader goes on a blind date.
~2k words.
CW: alcohol, a bad pick-up line
"Are you–?"
"Yes! And you must be–?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"So…"
Fantastic, five seconds in, and you're flummoxed. Hard not to be with a guy like John in front of you. His eyes are mirthful, matching his smirk and posture, leaning on the bar beside your seat like he's known you forever. Like he owns the place. Confident with the charm factor set to eleven.
A brief, perfunctory glance gleans the obvious: He's fit. Roughly your age. Solid build, a face with a little facial hair, and arms accentuated by rolled sleeves. Your eyes don't dare venture southward for fear of making your checking him out conspicuous.
When your friend insisted on setting you up, you had doubts. The last two dates she orchestrated went bust. Each man was too loud or too arrogant. It didn't help she said the latest contestant was a handsome sweet talker. A banterer looking for a bit of fun due to his stressful line of work. The fact he was military gave you pause, clearly not enough since you agreed.
As usual, your friend wore down your defenses and got her way, but you swore this was her last chance. She gave you simple instructions: Sit at the bar, wear red, and he'll find you.
"I see I've kept you waitin'," He gestures to the empty tumbler.
You fiddle with the cocktail straw. "No, I just needed something to relax."
A beat slips past, and you fixate on the cardboard coaster beneath your glass. God, you're out of practice. Why did you think this was a good idea? You're a conversation killer. A lifelong introvert, historically too shy to properly date. If he's as charismatic as described, you're done for.
"Nervous?"
Your gaze collides with his - glinting in the low light. "Yes. Have you seen yourself?"
That gets a chuckle out of him, a honeyed sound that eases the tension in your jaw and shoulders.
He quiets, but the grin never slips. His eyes move across your face, reading your features with a laser focus you're accustomed to. "Could say the same thing to you," He murmurs before turning to greet the barkeep.
The whispered remark leaves you mildly surprised. While you miss what he orders, your empty glass vanishes with the promise of a fresh drink on the way.
"Can I?"
"Please."
He takes the empty seat, and repositions slightly to remain angled toward you. "I'm nervous, too."
Another surprise.
"You hide it better than me. Don't suppose that's uh, part of your job?" You ask, hoping his work is not entirely off-limits.
He smirks and shrugs. "S'pose it is. What I do's boring, though. Our friend said you're…an architect?"
You grin and it's your turn to laugh. Not a good listener, noted. "No, I'm a librarian."
His brow lifts, then his gaze narrows, a sheen to his eye that worries you. You've seen this look before from many men who hear 'librarian' and mentally catapult themselves into many ridiculous fantasies. You love the job, hate the creeps and the stereotypes.
"A librarian."
"You heard correctly. And no, I can't give you a reading rec, I'm, uh, off duty."
"Shame, but understandable. Bet you've heard quite a few lines."
You glance away to thank the bartender and take the cocktail, fingers finding the new straw and giving it a quarter stir. "The good, the bad, and the ugly, yes."
"Cheers, thanks," He nods at the bartender and returns his focus, an impish smirk disappearing behind the glass. "What's the ugliest?"
A sip goes down easy, your throat already pleasantly burned by the first. It stirs your courage, giving it the giddy-up it needs. "You really want to know? It's awful."
He leans close, ducking his head and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Usually, it'd turn you off, a date imposing on your space this quick, but you can't tear your eyes away. Something magnetic about him.
His head dips, and his free hand beckons rapidly, "Now you're teasing. Let's hear it."
You fight the grin his whisper elicits. You make a show of it, rolling your eyes and taking a swig before you humor him and lean closer. Might as well go for it. "'I bet you can make a paperback hard.'"
He winces. "That is…Yeah, that's ugly. Someone said that to you?"
"It's terrible, right?"
"I could do worse, guarantee."
"Game on, give it your best shot."
The exchange of the most cringeworthy to filthy to hilarious pick-up lines doesn't end even after he signals the barkeep for another round. The night finally feels how you hoped it would be – spirited, lively, and honestly, you feel like a different person in a good way. After breaking the ice, he's one of the easiest people you've ever spoken to. A feat in and of itself, given your poor track record.
When he excuses himself to the lavatory, you text your friend, confirming he found you and things are going well. You set it to silent and slip it away, confident you won't need rescue tonight.
He returns, setting a hand at the top of your shoulders, letting it trail to the small of your back as he sits. You startle at the sensation. A shiver you can't decide if you like or not runs down your back. His hand instantly lifts, raising in surrender, and the smile that's looked assured all evening turns apprehensive.
"Did I misread this? Shit, apologies."
You surprise yourself. "No, no, it's fine. I just haven't…" Haven't been touched like that in ages, you privately admit. It's foolish, your reaction. "I didn't expect it."
"Yeah? How's that?"
"I don't–I don't get this kind of attention often. I don't date. I don't date a lot, that is, but it's cool if you do!" You swiftly take a drink to stop yourself. It's warm here. Was it always this warm?
A chuckle draws you back to him. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, I think you should date more," You must look at him as if he's grown a second head as he continues, "You're a riot, and you're stunning. Clever, too. Could go on, but you seem anxious, and I'd rather make you laugh and more comfortable."
Your chest tightens at the string of compliments. You could crush your glass, you think, with how you're gripping it.
"Think you should date me, specifically. Night's not over, and I want to do this again."
Oh god, you're smitten.
You open your mouth, unsure of what to say, when a lilting voice calls out over the din of the bar.
"Gaz? What're ye doin here? Said ye hated this place!"
A grinning man with a mohawk cuts through the bar. His eyes move from your date and land on you, trailing up and down. At first, it looks like he's unashamedly checking you out, but then his expression falls a fraction.
"Wait. Are ye my date? Thought ye'd be long gone by now given how late I am."
A record scratches in your head. Pause. Who's 'Gaz'? Who's this guy?
Your date turns completely toward the newcomer, mouth hanging open a moment. "Soap? I thought–No, your date's at Foxhole. You told me this morning."
"That's no' right. I've got it in m'phone right here."
While this 'Soap' thrusts a phone into your date's face, your blood runs cold. A particular bit of the conversation with your friend loops through your head.
"You're seriously not even going to give me a full name? A description beyond 'good-looking'?"
"Do you trust me or not? Look. He knows you'll be in red. That's all you need."
You pull out your phone, and your eyebrows rush to meet your hairline. Two missed calls and five messages from the last ten minutes. You swipe through and confirm: She texted to tell you that your date, the real date, was running an hour late due to work. This time, your jaw drops. You glance up to meet his eye, and whatever buzz you felt before dissolves.
"I thought–you're not John?"
"No, I'm Kyle, I assumed–"
"We spoke for forty five minutes and never asked for each other's names?!" The realization bubbles out with a peal of nervous laughter, and you clap a hand over your mouth. Was that as bad as it sounded? Or good, if you were so at ease?
A taut silence hangs between you two for a good five seconds, before you both burst into laughter.
The Scot clears his throat. "Right. Well, I'm no' so thick as tae see what's happenin' here. I'll go stir up trouble elsewhere."
"You sure?" You ask, suddenly feeling guilty. Even if this would not have happened if he'd been on time, the look on his face makes you frown.
He shakes his head, a hand over his heart. "Yer sweet, bonnie, but a man must know when to bow out."
"Thanks, mate," Kyle replies, eyes narrowed in suspicion yet paired with a smile. He claps John on the shoulder.
"Ye owe me, for stealin' such a looker."
Your lip curls, and you watch his mohawked head disappear toward the door. Alone again, you turn to your date. "You should probably check on your actual date."
"On it," He replies with another chuckle, his phone screen lighting up his face. He clicks his tongue, but he looks pleased. "It's weird, but I think they blocked me. Says 'number not found'."
"Their loss," You say quicker than you'd like, and your face heats. A strange turn of events, to be sure, yet it feels serendipitous. "I can't believe this. Were you set up?"
"Yeah, friend of mine. Blind date. Said to look for the person in red and clearly I assumed it was you. Let's start again. I'm Kyle." He offers a hand. It feels silly now, given the near hour of conversation you've shared.
You oblige him, take his hand, and give him yours. "Nice to meet you. For the second time."
Kyle's smile is warm when he repeats your name. He nods at your drinks on the bar. "Buy you another?"
"Please."
Despite the odd intermission, the rest of the evening runs smoothly. He walks you back to yours, the pace slow and meandering. You're not quite ready to invite him in, but you hope there's a next time.
"Can I be honest with you?" You chance, a block away from your place.
"'Course. Let's have it."
"You aren't the kind of man I usually pursue," You laugh when he feigns indignation.
"Really?"
"Really. You're a good looking guy. Normally I need a few shots in me to consider talking to you. Out of my league, that's for sure."
Kyle chuckles, then gently knocks your elbow. "Once again, I could say the same thing to you."
"Oh, stop that." You mutter sheepishly before a hand hooks itself around your wrist. You half-turn to see Kyle wearing an earnest expression, and his thumb rubs a small circle beneath your palm.
"I'm serious. I know I come off as confident but truth is, I'm shit with follow through. I'd've never approached you if it wasn't for the set up. Even if it was, uh, someone else's blind date," His other hand raises as if showing he means no harm, then reaches to tug you forward by your jacket, drawing you close. "I meant what I said earlier. I want to do this again sometime. If you'll have me."
You swallow hard, throat suddenly tight. You look for any sign, any microexpression suggesting this is a dream or, worse, a joke, but find only honesty. "Yeah, okay. A second date sounds nice."
He grins and leans in, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you meet him. The kiss is sweet, on the more chaste side of the spectrum (for your benefit, you think), and leaves you wanting more.
At your doorstep, you get another. He waits for you to sort out your keys and get inside, but before you close the door, something that's been nibbling at you forces your head back outside.
"Kyle – who did you say your friend was? The one that set you up?"
~~
🧼: Mission accomplished. World-class performance, done and dusted. You owe me a favor.
Kate smiles smugly at the text and chucks a piece of popcorn into her mouth. Always a good feeling to watch pieces fall into place. Two birds, one stone. Her two problem children: An overly shy bookworm with a nasty habit of shooting themselves in the foot on dates, and a silver-tongued know-it-all who needed a strong push. A pair she knew would go well together if the circumstances were just right.
More messages follow.
KG: Was that other person even real?
KG: And was Soap in on it?
KG: Second date's next week, btw.
Y: You sneaky, devious meddler.
Y: He's fucking perfect.
She chuckles, and the body nestled at her side shifts. "What's so funny, babe?"
"Oh, playing matchmaker."
Her wife sighs. "Kate. Not again."
#x gn reader#gn reader#x reader#cod fic#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#kyle gaz garrick#cod gaz#gaz cod#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#kate laswell cod#kate laswell#kyle gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle 'gaz' garrick#gaz x reader#gaz x gn!reader#kyle gaz garrick x gn!reader#kyle 'gaz' garrick x gn!reader#the beauty of fanfic is that this scenario is so fucking unlikely but it happened in my brain anyway
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Can you write soap fingering reader till she can't take it anymore im begging you 🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️
you see
i love johnny and i love fingering. perfect!
here you go honey.
Your favourite thing about Johnny had always been his eyes.
Your second favourite thing about him was his spontaneity.
He never failed once to take you by surprise with his sexual endeavours... and you never refused them.
You'd been sat in his lap, innocently, with one of his hands snaked around your waist comfortably and the other resting over one of your thighs. As he'd conversed with his friend Simon, and a few others who were visiting your shared apartment for drinks, you were happy to listen along whilst they exchanged stories and made their shitty jokes amongst each other.
And then you'd felt it, the sensation of Johnny's hand as it slowly slithered its way underneath the fabric of your skirt, and the warm fingers that were smoothing over the sensitive skin of your thigh.
Nobody could see it, the table in front of you both blocked most of the view - the side uncovered was fortunately unoccupied. The perfect opportunity.
"Now you're just being ridiculous," Johnny exclaimed, loud enough to snap you back into the room and acknowledge the conversation that had been ongoing the entire time. "Coming from the man who drinks fuckin' tea."
"Get your head out your arse," replied Simon, narrowed eyes sending daggers in your boyfriend's direction.
"Who doesn't drink tea?" Asked, who you think was John, the man with the moustache and cheeky face - as you'd noted. "The fuck do you drink to relax with?"
"Oh, I dunno, a fuckin' beer?"
The conversation made no sense to you, and you wouldn't bother to give it a second thought anyway. Not when Johnny's fingers had begun to rub circles into your clothed folds - still conversing with his work mates as if he was just casually scratching his head.
And you would be lying if you said it wasn't turning you on more. But the idea of being caught still caused tiny flames of anxiety to lick at your stomach, and you leaned yourself forward to rest your elbow onto the table with your cheek on your palm.
You stayed like this for a while, as the almost deafening sound of male discussion rang through your ears minute after minute. It felt like hour after hour when Johnny's hand didn't falter once, and you knew he was making sure you were getting nice and wet for him.
After a while you edged your legs open, subtle, silently urging your boyfriend to do more but he only kept rubbing, until the slickness at your hole had absolutely saturated the lace of your panties.
"Are you... feeling okay?"
Johnny jolted you with one knee, bringing your attention from the paintings on the kitchen wall to the man, Alejandro if you remembered right, who'd asked you a question. You must have made some sort of noise.
"Me? Oh - yeah, yeah. I'm alright. Just get little cramps sometimes."
Lies aside, you were far from alright. The man beneath you had successfully brought you so close to the edge that the hand on your face squeezed at the skin it could find purchase of. And then he stopped, whilst your eyes were doing their best not to widen, watering as two skilled fingered wandered beneath your underwear.
To cope, you had to wipe a hand over your face with a feigned nonchalance. Johnny had pressed two fingers into you almost immediately and pressed deep enough for his fingers to curl and massage at the spongey nerves.
"I don't know a single person who doesn't like Italian food mate," spoke the youngest man out of all of them, whose name you couldn't remember.
"We should definitely all go, then, it sounds nice, Gaz," John replied with a nod. "You'd come too, wouldn't you?"
Luckily, you'd made sure to be extra attentive to avoid repeating any mistakes. The question had been directed at you.
"Oh, yeah," you enthused, accidentally drawing out the word a little too much as Johnny's long fingers teased at your insides in slow, hard thrusts of his hand. "I'd love to come."
That earns your pussy the harshest slam of them all, and your eyes really do well up with bliss this time as Johnny continues his assault on your walls with purpose. You feel it building and building, the coil in your stomach tightening painfully as you squeezed your thighs together out of fear. You were not confident you'd be able to keep your mouth shut if you came.
You'd stopped Johnny's fingers from being able to push in and out, but they could still tease at your insides. You had no clue how he could do it; like clockwork, he rubbed with his digits and wouldn't stop until he knew you were just about to fall apart. And then his fingers would still.
He did this four times.
Until you tried to grind yourself down onto him in your desperate state, and he'd realised himself just how much of a struggle keeping still - and undetected by the others - was for you.
When your orgasm hit you, your only comfort was being able to bury seventy-five percent of your face into your hand as the muscles in your legs became rigid to the point of pain. Waves of pleasure wracked your frame, overshadowed the discomfort your fiercly clenched jaw was bringing you.
Johnny, after slowly inching his fingers out of you, had pressed a light peck to your cheek before he slid you off of him and paced towards the bathroom.
You could only sit back down into the chair and, with shaky hands, reach for the glass of wine you'd been neglecting.
#john mactavish#johnny mw2#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#soap mactavish oneshot#soap mactavish headcanons#soap mactavish smut#soap smut#soap smut mw2#mw2 smut#mw2 oneshot#soap mw2
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A Friend?
John Stones
(ft. Jude Bellingham & Jordan Henderson)
No one ever believes it when they introduce each other as a friend. His teammates are no exception. [Requested]
John should’ve known better. No one was going to buy it when he introduced her as a ‘friend’. But he didn’t really have any choice, did he? It was the truth. They were friends, as much as he wished that they were more than just friends.
“A friend?” Jude asked almost in disbelief as he raised his eyebrows when he shook her hand. “Right. You two are friends,” he said in a teasing tone. A playful little smirk appeared on his face.
John glared at his younger teammate. They were all in the stands after the match with their friends and family. John had just been talking with her when Jude and Jordan came out of nowhere. Jude asked John to introduce him to the lovely lady. To be fair, John had mentioned her name a couple of times before in front of his teammates. Now that she was finally there, they could put the name into a face.
“What a nice friend you are, coming all the way here for John,” Jude continued. John was sure he was on a mission to tease him. “Must be a special friend then, John?”
“Manners, Jude. That’s rude,” Jordan whacked Jude on the back of his head and the lad acted hurt. Jordan then extended his hand to shake her hand and they both introduced themselves to each other. “I’m Jordan. Pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Finally? Sorry, uh… John’s mentioned me before?” The shy look that had been on her face was replaced by a look of surprise.
“He’d just been moaning about how the tea here doesn’t match his taste. Man loves his tea, doesn’t he?” Jordan glanced at John and for a second John thought that there was a mischievous look in his eyes. “He kept mentioning a name to Kyle, saying that this person makes the best tea and he missed it. Kyle thought that he actually missed the person though, not the tea.”
John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Oh, come on. You need to go that far?”
Jordan and Jude got the same triumphant smile on their faces—John sighed in defeat and she let out a nervous giggle. Fortunately, the two lads were kind enough to let it go.
It wasn’t until they left that John found the courage to look at her. She just stood there biting her lips, her cheeks looked more rosy than before. John felt more embarrassed knowing that she was embarrassed. He was definitely going to give Jude some lessons later, and maybe, bring Dave the cat close to Jordan so Dave could give him a little scare.
“I’m sorry,” John apologised, running a nervous hand on his hair. “They can be like that sometimes.”
“It’s fine, John. I’m actually happy to see that you guys are getting along so well.”
“Yeah, imagine what I have to put up with every day.”
John caught her smile before he quickly looked away, mostly because he still felt embarrassed. They both fell silent and John could feel that it was suddenly getting slightly awkward. This was only normal, but it really wouldn’t be awkward if she was truly just a friend.
But she was never only a friend to John. He adored her—if he was asked to be honest right now, he’d say that he was really in love with her. She was the one he thought about when he woke up in the morning, the one he always wanted to tell Kyle about, the one who occupied his mind when he wasn’t thinking about football. It had been almost a year since things started blooming between them, but John had always been holding back because he knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship yet—she’d just gotten out of a serious relationship that didn’t end well—and he respected that.
“Ugh…I actually hate every time this happens, you know. This… Awkward moment.” John turned to her with slightly furrowed eyebrows, but she didn’t look back at him; she was looking far into the empty pitch. “It’s just like, funny, how everyone is surprised every time we introduce each other as friends. Like, which part of it is really hard to believe?”
John let out a nervous chuckle, unsure of how to respond to that. For some reason, he agreed. But he could also actually give her plenty of reasons right now why no one would buy it.
It was the way they looked at each other, the way they behaved around each other, and treated each other. There was something different, something special between them that was so noticeable.
“But they’re right, though.” She sighed, finally looking back at John. Her voice was low but loud enough for John to hear.
“About what?”
“About us. We’re kind of… More than friends. It’s always been that way.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. You don’t think so?”
John shrugged. “No, sure. Sure, I do.”
John’s heart rate accelerated. All this time he’d always tried to convince himself that she felt the same way like he did—that there was something special between them—and now he’d just gotten the confirmation for it.
“Right. I mean, like, I kinda know that you’ve been giving me space, but… I feel like I’m ready to share that space with someone else.”
John couldn’t believe that they were having this conversation right here, right now. He quickly scanned his eyes around and thankfully everyone was busy with their own families and friends; his parents were engaged in a conversation with Ramsdale’s parents. John turned on his seat, facing her. He stared at her beautiful eyes and he could feel that there was something slightly different in the way she looked at him.
“Well… If you want to be more than friends, I’m up for it.”
She scoffed and then laughed, drawing a grin from John. She shook her head and stared back at John with what he believed as a fond gaze.
“That’s a very lame way to ask me to be your girlfriend, John Stones.”
“But you get the point. I can’t really take you on a date and bring you flowers now, can I?” His gaze then shifted to her hand and he confidently took it in his hand, giving it a light caress. “I promise I’ll take you on a date when we get home.”
She nodded. “Fine, okay. Uhh, I think it’s time for you to go?” They both looked around and saw his teammates started leaving. It was about time for them to go back to the hotel. “You go, then. Please pet Dave for me?”
John smiled. “Yeah, sure,” he said as they both stood up. He pulled her into a tight, warm hug and he wished that he could spend a little bit more time with her. He knew he would already miss her once he hit the dressing room. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered in her ears.
“Sure. You okay with the cameras?”
“I’m gonna make it real quick.”
“Okay.”
With one swift motion, John let her go from his embrace and gave her a quick peck on her lips; his stomach flipped when their lips met. She was rather stunned when he’d done it, a shy look was painted all over her face. She couldn’t contain the happiness so she laughed and John laughed with her.
“Okay, then. Call me when you get back?” John asked.
She nodded. John then said goodbye to her and his parents.
Everything had happened so quickly. John had just started to process everything when he walked down the tunnel. His heart was comfortably pounding in his chest and if Picks saw him right now, he’d definitely say “You look like an idiot, why are you smiling like that?”. He’d gotten the win and the girl, you’d understand why he was smiling like that.
“Here’s the thing, John.”
John felt an arm around his shoulder. It was Jude again. He looked serious this time.
“Friends don’t really kiss each other on the lips, you know,” Jude said.
John rolled his eyes and shrugged Jude’s arm off. He gave Jude a look and started to quicken his pace. “Well, that’s the thing. We’re not really friends anymore.”
Jude stopped on his track and he dropped his jaw. John wished he could have taken a picture because the boy was absolutely stunned.
“Wait— What do you mean??” He said, and John saw realisation slowly hit him. “Nah, you didn’t, mate! You didn’t!!”
John laughed in satisfaction and ran off before Jude started chasing him.
—
world cup is over but i still have a couple world cup-themed imagines, i hope you don’t mind!
i enjoyed writing this one, and it’s always fun to bring on the other players~ i hope you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated!💖
My Masterlist🤍
#avenirdelightwrites#john stones imagines#football imagines#footballer imagines#john stones one shot#football one shot#footballer one shot#football fic#footballer fic#jude bellingham imagines#jordan henderson imagines#imagine#one shots#fanfic#fanfiction
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Can I request a blurb where the reader has autism and finds a trampoline and just has a bunch of happy stims while boncing and giggling and matty just watching for afar lovingly, and encouraging her, and she asks him if they can have a trampoline in thier backgarden?
(you don't have to if you don't want to)
A/N: my dear anon, i've made some research before writing this but please if you hate it, if you want me to delete it or if there's one single error please tell me!! I don't want to disrespect or even offend anyone. Thanks for requesting this, had fan writing it :)) I really hope you like it ♥
The band and their respective partners, Jamie, Polly, Patricia, John, and Gabrielle were invited to a barbecue at Ross's house the first Sunday all of them had free.
They had a nice meal, even though the guys teased Ross about it. He brushed them with just a 'fuck off'. All of them were laughing and having a pleasant time. Thanks to Y/n, they didn't make her feel out of place or nothing closer. Matty kept his hand attached to hers, even when they were properly eating. She tried to assure him she was alright, but he felt the urge to touch his girlfriend, letting her know he was there all the time. Matty wanted and needed Y/n, as much as her craved him.
Adam, Carly, and George were cleaning the table, meanwhile Charli and the girls entertained Hann's kid with papers and colourful pencils. The rest of the boys still seated with Y/n at the big table were engrossed in a conversation about a topic she couldn't concentrate on.
Y/n's sight moved outwards, to the big patio surrounding the back of the house. Her sight fell on the pool, thinking about how nice it must be having it during the hot summer days. Quickly after, her eyes fell on something far to the right side of the house. She couldn't stop her body from moving.
Matty's sight instantly followed her.
Y/n opened a door, finally out. The singer followed her, watching his girlfriend ran towards a trampoline Ross had for when Hann's kid or his nieces and nephews visit him. Y/n was bubbling with excitement, and Matty couldn't help to smile.
He took a cig out of his pack, lightening, meanwhile Y/n checked if the pad was dry enough for her to jump. Once she was satisfied enough and her shoes were off, she didn't hesitate to get it.
Matty walked until his face was perfectly visible from the opening in the net around the trampoline.
"Having fun, baby?" he asked.
Y/n jumped around in circles, feeling a little tired from the activity but enjoying it too much to just stop.
She jumped up and landed a few centimetres before her boyfriend.
"Yes! Get in, get in!" Y/n insisted.
Matty dropped the rest of his cig to the grass and trampled on it. She watched him left his own shoes beside hers.
After the first jump up, Matty started laughing. He couldn't contain it.
"I forgot how fun this was!" he exclaimed.
"Right?"
"Come here, baby." he jumped closer.
"No!" Y/n yelped, moving as far as she could from him.
Matty chuckled loud trying to get her, they moved in circles until he was close enough to pinned her down. He was above her, both of them breathing hard.
Y/n felt his fingers brushing her hair out of her face.
"Got ya." he pinched her cheek.
"Stop!" she whined, moving her face to a side. Matty took the chance and kissed her cheek with a big sound. "Matty!"
"What?" he moved upwards, looking down at her with such love in his eyes.
"Can we get one?"
"A trampoline?"
"Yes, please!" she begged.
"Whatever you want, princess. I just want to see you this happy always..." he moved so the tip of his nose contact hers.
"Thank you." Y/n answered shyly.
"I love you." Matty let her know. Y/n struggled to say it back, so he added, "Hey, it's alright...I know." he reassured her, looking directly at her eyes.
"Can we join you guys?" Polly interrupted the moment, pointing with her head towards the little kid --Hann's son-- waiting to get in too.
The singer and her girlfriend looked at them. He replied, "Of course!" Matty moved to rest beside Y/n.
Hann's kid screamed and Polly helped him to jump. Y/n sensed Matty kissed the side of her face, feeling fantastic about her next purchase.
#matty healy#matty healy fic#matty healy x reader#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fanfic#matty healy imagine#matty x reader
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Undertaker, Ronald, Edward and Charles Grey comforting their gf who lost their young niece in an accident(my 9 year old niece was killed nearing 2 years ago when a driver fell asleep at the wheel and jumped the curb)
I'm so sorry for your loss, sweetheart :(
and I hope that this is in some way healing for you! it actually felt kind of healing for me too-
I remember when my ex's young niece (I can't remember how old she was, four or five maybe) was killed, it's been at least five or six years now, and while I was never that close with his family in general, I still do remember the times I was over at his house for the parties where a low of his family was there and I got to play with his niece and, even though we weren't very close, I still remember her tiny smile and laugh
may both those darling little angels rest in peace and be forever remembered ❤️
It just… makes him sick to think about, you know? For a child who had their whole life ahead of her, someone who had so many people who love her, to be taken out of the world in an instant, it’s unfair. He’s in shock from the news, not only for (Name) and her emotions, but also likely because he’d undoubtedly met her niece. Played with her, spoke to her, sang her songs, looked after her. Even if it wasn’t a long time since they met, he still had a bond with the little girl. There’s no way he’s leaving his beloved’s side, no matter what that means. He’ll hold her and do anything she needs him to do. He has no words of comfort to offer except for something that tastes hollow coming out of his mouth: “At least she’s not suffering anymore. She’s with God now, my love.” Whether or not that’s any solace depends on his S/O. Regardless, he’s here for her. He’s not going anywhere, and if she didn’t know before that she could count on him in times of extreme stress, she knows now that she can.
How, but…? He just saw (Niece) the other day. This isn’t right… it can’t have happened so quickly, can it? He gets hit harder with shock than his S/O, because he’s almost in denial that she’s gone. It’s no question that he’s been around that little girl, gently teasing her and impressing her with his fencing and things like that. Despite that she wasn’t his blood, she was close enough. His focus rapidly shifts from his own feelings to (Name)’s, because after all, this was her niece. She was closer to that child than he was, she spent more time with her. This must be devastating, so he makes sure he’s there for her. He makes sure Phipps and John and Ash can handle everything for Her Majesty, then Grey takes his darling home. If anyone so much as makes a comment that it was ‘only’ her niece (“be thankful it wasn’t your daughter or something, then you’d really be sad”), they’ll find themselves staring down his sword. Whatever she needs him to do, he’ll do it. No questions, no judgment, just support.
Fuckin’… that just ain’t right. It’s not. Everyone else can tell him till they’re blue in the face that the universe works in mysterious ways and all that shite, but that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t think an aunt should have to bury her niece, or a mother her daughter. That little girl probably knew him as ‘Uncle Ronnie’, because he loves children and was very friendly with her. Although he might have kept his distance from (Name)’s family in general, because he doesn’t want to put them in danger just by being near them, he came around often enough to know (Niece); he’d always have a piece of candy in his pocket when he knew he’d be visiting his S/O, just in case (Niece) happened to be there too. It makes him angry and sad and he knows he shouldn’t be angry because it was an accident. He just sort of wants someone to blame. Having someone to blame makes it easier… only he knows it really doesn’t. He’ll actually go so far as to shirk his duties completely, (when usually he at least half-asses them) so that he can comfort (Name). He’s bad with comfort, though, so she’s… she’s got to tell him what she needs. If she does that, he’ll make it happen. This is just such a mess, he doesn’t want her to go to a dark place she can never come back from.
… Tragedy. Awful, Goddamn, bloody tragedy. That’s the only word for it that he can conjure up. That’s the only word that exists for something like this. Cases where he had to reap the soul of a child are those which are burned into his brain from his previous work, and burned in further are the children’s funerals he’s presided over in his current work. He hates it. The loss of a little one is something he feels so heavily, no matter who that child was. ‘There’s always a reason for these things,’ the higher-up Reapers would tell him, but he can’t believe that. He remembers (Niece) all too well, the way he would play with her and tell her jokes and sit in on her tea parties when his darling had her around. He tries so hard to be brave for her, whisking her to privacy and offering to her family that he’ll take care of everything for (Niece)’s funeral; no payment of any kind necessary. (He never takes any payment for the little ones, anyway.) And he makes sure to take care of everything, keeping his S/O fed and cleanly dressed and whatever else she needs. She’s going to be able to grieve in peace, dammit. At the same time… this is the inspiration behind his Bizarre Dolls, that grief, a perfect subject. Who would deserve to be brought back from death, if not a child whose life was taken too soon? He’s… simply not sure if he can bring himself to corrupt his precious (Name)’s beloved niece in that way.
#child death tw#twilightlover2007#Black Butler#Kuroshitsuji#Edward#Grey#Ronald#Undertaker#reaction#romantic#platonic#angst#hurt/comfort#UGHHHHHH my heart :'c#one hell of a queue
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may i interest you in some fic recs????😉
y'all know the drill, we got a rec list for fics i read, liked, and were written in the month of may!! there were so many that i actually had to split this into two posts cause tumblr has a link limit LOL
if you wanna see more more of my fic recs and favs, i have em all on my recs blog, here!! please note the navi page is still under construction!!
and of course, if you have any fic recs of your own, feel free to send em my way here or on my sideblog - i love finding new fics and writers!! 💜
may fic recs pt. 2
Alex Keller
sfw headcanons - @deadbranch
✧ super solid characterization for alex, like you took how i imagine alex to be and explained it in the perfect way. like this line alone "Bearing his thoughtful & intentional demeanor in mind, he is sometimes reticent as he considers how to respond." what is it like to be able to understand a character so well, and be able to so beautifully explain them??
Anakin Skywalker
redshift - @chaoskrakenuwu
✧ how dare you pull me back into my star wars hyperfixation, and even more so how dare you make me feel things for anakin goddamn skywalker 😭 even though i knew what was going to happen, you still have me tearing up every time i read about anakin and his big feelings
Arthur Morgan
until the last falling star || blood upon the snow - @lunallaa
✧ i always love me a good arthur morgan fic and this was absolutely fantastic!! i cannot wait to see where this goes, i know it's going to be amazing because you're characterization of arthur (and the rest of the gang) is *chef's kiss*
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw
i fully blame @uselsshuman & @lunallaa for introducing me to tg:m and giving me brainrot and also cannot thank them enough!!
right now - @uselsshuman
✧ i'm such a sucker for characters holding in their feelings until a life or death situation when they finally confess, and you wrote it so great. i was giggling, and twirling my hair and cheering along with the rest of the squad at the end!!
i wanna hold you - @uselsshuman
✧ love me a good panic attack/comfort fic and this scratched that itch so unbelievably well!! it felt v close to my own experience with panic attacks and really hit home for me. very easily one of my fav new comfort fics!!
Carlos Oliveira
untitled - @cowboybxtch
✧ yeah i've been stunned to silence with this one absolutely no words just
David "Hesh" Walker
crimson fangs sing me lullabies - @halcyone-of-the-sea
✧ it's the way that i dropped everything to consume all 18k words of this fic like my entire life depended on it!! i've been turned into a hesh girlie, i am obsessed, taken over by the absolute perfection of this fic
Jake "Hangman" Seresin
darlin' loves only a game - @uselsshuman
✧ i need more "teaching someone how to play pool" fics in my life, esp ones like this!! the teasing, the hands on the hips, the flirty touching i need all of it. such a cute, fun fic emma i love it
would that i - @uselsshuman
✧ "The small tabby cat that had been your kitchen companion—affectionately named Sock for his one white paw." forget everything else, Sock is my new favorite character. this is a Sock stan account now. for real tho, i love the way you write jake and make him the perfect amount of tease and gentleman!!
Javy "Coyote" Machado
worry, my love - @uselsshuman
✧ ahh the source of my tg:m hyperfixation, i was so excited when you posted this and read it about 87 times and i'll probably read it 87 more time tbh. i love javy and the way you write him (and him using the word skedaddle LOL)
John "Soap" MacTavish
right person - @halcyone-of-the-sea
✧ how dare you. really, who gave you the right to do this to me? why must you hurt me in this way? why must you write so beautifully and so captivatingly that i literally could not put this down despite the ever growing pit in my stomach? you've ripped out my heart and crushed it to tiny pieces and all i can say is thank you and how dare you
cleaned up - @bloodyknucklesforme
✧ this was so cute, and omg i adore nina. she's so funny, and their banter and her little quips are adorable. “Next time have Kyle spray you down before you get back." adksadlj i love her.
memories are fresh - @mvtthewmurdvck
✧ it's not a fic rec list if i don't include a piece from jo that completely breaks my heart and then puts it all back together again with such beautiful words and sweet moments. idk how you manage to work my emotions so well, i'm in complete awe of your ability and talents.
infinity in the palm of your hand (eternity in an hour) - @yeyinde
✧ hello?? reincarnation!au??? soulmates??? not even a paragraph in and i'm completely bewitched by this fic. i can't be expected to be normal after this, this fic has re-shaped the way i feel and think and read.
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The Baptist and the Blade
This one’s for you @roofgeese! Thank you for asking me to write some more John smut! I can never get enough of that little murder gremlin.
I found a prompt that I thought fit John perfectly - “Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”
Lemons ahoy!! 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI
Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors :)
Warnings: minor bloodplay, p in v intercourse, M!receiving oral, lots of religious imagery, two morally reprehensible people going at it
Words: 2515
Pairing: John Seed x Female Deputy
She stood in the thick boundary of trees watching him, silently, tracking his every movement. How proudly he stood on the shore watching his newest batch of sinners be baptized into the loving embrace of the cult. She waited for her moment to strike, when he was all alone. Her prey.
“We must wash away our past. We must expose our sins. We must atone, for only then may we stand in the light of God and walk through his Gate unto Eden.”
The newest recruits were dragged up from the water into the mayonnaise white vans, his men following close behind, and as the headlights faded off into the distance she could finally make her move. Her boot snapped the thin twigs that scattered the ground and he snapped around to face her, bright blue eyes glued onto her in the dark.
“Deputy, out for a stroll? He snapped the bible in his hands closed. "It is a lovely night.” Placing it down on the large boulder behind him.
“Coming back to the scene of the crime.”
His eyes trailed up and down her, “What would your resistance think if they found us out here together? Alone.” He clasped his hands behind his back, tapping the toe of his boot against the stones below.
“You seem to have no problem radioing me on a public channel so I'm sure most of them wouldn't be too surprised actually. Hell, I’ve had Sharky and Adelaide telling me for days that we should just get this over with.”
“Get what over with?” He prodded her to continue, teasing her with the flick of his eyebrow.
“You’re really gonna make me say it?” Her scowl deepened as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Yes.” He grinned from ear to ear like the Cheshire cat.
She sighed heavily, “They think we should fuck.”
His eyes seemed to sparkle with her use of such crass profanity. This wasn't love, this wasn't sentiment, this was a promiscuous need, a desire to be fulfilled. Base and brutal, like an animal in heat, she was reaching out to the suitable male available to her.
“Would you agree with that sentiment?” He inched in closer towards her, his shoes crunching through the gravel beach, as his hips swayed like a prowling tomcat.
“Would you?”
“I asked first.” He leaned in towards her, crystalline eyes made dark with his own libidinous desire.
She rubbed at the back of her neck, feeling like an open wound, a dark cavernous hole only he seemed to be able to see the bottom of. “I think we both know where I stand on that.”
He reached out and ran his thumb against her lip. “So you enjoyed our kiss then?” Pride swelling in his chest.
“You only did it to fuck with Joey.” Her eyes stared into his, staring him down. “I’m well aware.”
He placed his hand to his chest, rubbing his long fingers against his bare skin. “On the contrary, Deputy. I did it because of you. Your sins, I know them well, I have shared in them. If there’s one person who could ever truly understand you, it’s me.”
“What happened to wanting to cleanse me of my sins?”
“That will come in time.” He smiled, so sure of himself, so sure that she would see sense - the way Joseph had promised.
She stepped forward, invading his personal space, if he even had a notion about what that was. They stood nose to nose, eye to eye, toe to toe. She’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much she enjoyed staring at him - at his stupidly pretty face.
“How would we go about doing that?”
His eyes fell to her chest, his hand brushing away the loose waves that sat at her shoulders, having fallen loose from her braid. “I’d need to mark you first, but you ran before I could.”
Pulling off her jacket and her flannel, she tossed them onto the rocky beach. Wearing only a white tank top, no bra, her nipples were hard with the cold September air.
His focus remained solely on the cleavage of her firm breasts. He licked his lips as his palm spread against her skin. His voice dropped lower in his throat, “Right here. Near your heart, for all to see, the badge of honor.”
“You mean like yours?” She slid her fingers in past the collar of his shirt, half unbuttoned already, running her fingertips against the scar tissue left behind.
“Yes.”
His heart raced under his ribs, blood pumping, rushing through his veins, flooding his system. She could feel it drum against her fingertips, she could taste his adrenaline perfuming the space between them. Dragging her tongue across her teeth, her breath hitched in her throat. “And then would you cut it out of me, staple it up like the others?”
“No, I wouldn’t want to ruin such a -” he cleared his throat and looked back up at her. Her pale stare was deadly, fed by blood lust. She looked at him carnally, like he was a meal and she was starving.
“Then what?” her voice was low, husky, a whisper on the night air.
“Then I'd wash you, purify your soul.”
“Out there?” She nodded in the direction of the water, lapping feet away from them.
He nodded as she began to lean down and untie her boots, her mouth was so close…God help him. She kicked them away from her and unbuttoned her jeans, unzipping the fly, sliding them down her thighs. Her coiled snake tattoo on her leg bared its fangs for him, and her scars that scattered her flesh shone white in the moonlight.
The air was cold and biting, a crisp autumn night, and she was wearing barely anything at all. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into her embrace, kissing him as his hands slid over her muscular thighs and ass, grabbing at her, fingers dragging over her bare skin. He moaned against her mouth as his hands trailed against her.
Sliding up her hips, his fingers glanced up her tank top, touching the first hint of scarred tissue. She groaned and bit his lip until she tasted pennies in her mouth, and then felt his cock pressing against her - rock hard with the taste of pain. She stepped back, trying to pull away, but he grabbed at her harder, dragging her back towards him, he wasn’t letting her go so easily this time. His fingers dug into her, marking her skin with crescents and bruises.
“Don’t tease me, Kathleen.” He rasped.
“Don’t fucking call me Kathleen.”
He smirked, licking his lips, blood on his tongue. “What are you trying to hide from me?”
“You won’t find that out until I say yes.”
“Ka - Kit…” He smiled again, slipping back into his smooth demeanor and not the corrupt believer he truly was. “Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”
“I don’t give in that easy, you know that.” She slid her hands down his arms, grabbing him by the wrists and pulling him off of her, eliciting a groan from him with the strength she used against him.
She walked backwards towards the edge of the water, the icy cold waves biting at her heels as they lapped against her skin. She waded in until she was knee deep, sliding her panties down, she threw them back up to the shore. The balled up material landed at his feet.
“Coming to join me, Baptist?”
He curled his hands into fists, relaxing and flexing several times before walking towards the waters edge. Trying so hard to maintain some sliver of control, an ounce of respect.
She shivered in the water, her lips turning purple, but she didn't care, she liked the sting and seeing the hunger in his eyes made her forget about the cold.
“Another sin to add to your skin.”
“Where would you mark me with that one?” She grabbed his hand and slid it over the flat of her stomach, landing at the curve of her pelvic bone. “Here?”
A hiss escaped between his teeth as she took his hand and slipped it between her thighs. The dark waters acting like a mirror below, he could see the reflection of his fingers running over her soft, wet lips.
“You said the greatest gift we have is to give…and you like to fill -”
His mouth crashed against hers, making her stumble back in the water, her hand curving up around his neck, fingers knotting into his hair, pulling on his strands. He pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing rough, hurried circles against it. “I’m going to have you saying yes by the time I'm done.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
He slid his two fingers up into her cunt, while still focusing his attention on her clit, gliding in and out of her. The heat spread from his fingers up her spine like a wildfire. He was well-practiced, knew how to use speed and force to coerce her to speak, even if it was nothing more than a string of nonsense and curses. Her body shuddered, shivers turning to sparks and flashes of lightning as if the Lord above was working through the Baptist. His mouth dragged against her cheek, his hand wrapped up in her hair, tugging her head back.
“Which would you prefer?”
“Whichever I deserve.”
His mouth wrapped around her neck, sucking on her skin, dotting her with bruises. She whined against him. He brought his mouth down on her shoulder and bit, hard enough to draw blood. He smiled up at her and licked her blood from his teeth, staining them pink. Tasting the sweet ambrosia that fueled her, iron and copper spilling down his throat. A blood pact between two debauched creatures.
He pulled his fingers from her, dragging his tongue against them, keeping his eyes affixed on her, watching the flush float up her skin from her chest to her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears - all nearly as red as her hair. Sucking his fingers clean, he closed his eyes and forced himself to memorize her taste.
“Are you seeking penance, Deputy? Is your guilt finally weighing down upon you?”
“I don’t feel so guilty anymore.”
He scoffed, “Such a sinner.”
“Maybe.” She dropped to her knees, water now around her waist. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, doe-eyed, innocent.
He pressed his hand to her face, cupping her cheek, her teeth chattering under his touch. His adam’s apple bobbed at the sight of her before him. Supplication.
Her fingers were growing numb from the cold, but she still managed to unbuckle his belt and pull the fly down his jeans without fumbling. Her eyes went wide at the sight before her, what he lacked in height he certainly made up for in other areas.
He smirked at her reaction, she was feeding into another one of his sins, he’d pray on it another time. For now he was much too busy doing God’s work, helping her to reach atonement.
She looked up at him, desperate eyes pleading for forgiveness, opening her mouth to accept his sacrament. Her lips wrapped around the head, bobbing up and down along his length, inviting the host inside of her, taking him in as deep as she could go.
The warmth of her mouth embraced him, sheltering from the bite of the autumn cold outside. Her eyes never left him, watching him with the ferocity of a predator. But in this moment he held the leash, he was her salvation, her chance to be allowed access to Eden.
Her saliva pooled at the base of his cock, dripping down into the dark waters of the lake that surrounded them. Holy water. She fought to swallow, struggled to breathe as she got caught up in her own rhythm, taking him in and out, her jaw growing sore, but she couldn’t stop, not yet.
He pulled her mouth away, he didn't want to finish, not like that. She had offered him her holes to fill and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to enter her gates. He pressed her against him, her wet skin spreading its dampness onto his clothing, her body vibrating against him. She knew what he wanted and without a word of direction she slid her leg up the outside of his, wrapping it around him. His cock pressed against her slit. Rocking her hips, she began to grind against him, spreading her slick along the length. Thrusting up into her, he filled her. Her velvet walls tightened against him, squeezing.
She bit her lip and stifled the moan that threatened to escape her, pressing her forehead against his. Her weight supported by him, he fucked up into her, hips snapping forward and back, violent and stabbing, the same unbridled madness he used when wielding a knife and she was at his mercy. She cried out into the night, a scream building in her throat.
“Say it, Kit. Just say it.” He spoke breathlessly. “Say it for me.”
Her nails dragged down his sides, leaving long red scratches in her wake. He groaned and hissed, his hair falling free from its normally coiffed style, more the feral being she knew he was underneath. Grabbing at his thin waist, burning his skin as her fingers squeezed. She was getting so close now. So close and she couldn’t hide, couldn't pretend, not with him.
“YES!”
He kissed her hard, forcefully, full of command. His thrusts were deeper, his pace slowing. He came inside her, tainting her, moaning a hymn against her mouth.
Her head fell back as their mouths parted, panting up into the night’s sky. A million stars, the lights of angels twinkling above. Her muscles spasmed and the strength to hold her leg up around him gave way. She could have fallen back into the water if she didn't think he might drown her.
He kept her upright, tight to his body. One and the same, they were connected, entwined.
“This can never happen again…”
“Regret, already?” He looked at her like he could read her mind. Like he knew it was all a lie. She lived so many, she could hardly separate the truth from them anymore, but he could always see through them. See her for what lay beneath her rotting layers.
She pushed him off of her and stormed back up to the shoreline, picking up her clothes and her boots, heading back to the treeline as if what had just occurred between them didn’t happen at all.
“Kit, you have no reason to be afraid,” he called up to her, “We love you and we will take you.”
She didn’t spare another second to look back, running into the woods, the branches of trees scratching at her skin, leaves whipping against her. Punishment. It was what she deserved for what she had just done.
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hey! may i trouble you for some headcanons of the fellers reactions to a s/o that sleep talks? saying mostly nonsense and maybe they even hear them say their name? <3
Arthur
The first night you accidentally wake Arthur up with your sleep talking, he's sluggish, still half asleep and confused from all the noise. Arthur presumes it must be someone talking outside your tent or maybe he's still dreaming but when he turns to face you, he realizes what’s going on.
Arthur finds it kinda funny in the moment. You never mentioned prior to this that you talk in your sleep and a part of him wonders if you even know you do it.
He doesn't directly mention it to you just in case you might get embarrassed but whenever you do sleep talk, the next morning Arthur always asks you if you had any interesting dreams.
Charles
Sleep talking isn’t something that bothers Charles. He knows you can’t exactly control whether you talk in your sleep or not so he just gets on with it, trying his best to sleep through it.
Anytime he wakes up and you’re halfway through a conversation, Charles tries to wait it out until you slowly stop. Usually you might sleep talk for 10-15 minutes before stopping again so Charles waits until it’s quiet and then he goes back to sleep.
But on those nights where you’re feeling particularly chatty, Charles hesitantly nudges you. He hates waking you up over this but some nights he gives in and wakes you, always apologizing as he holds you close and explains you were sleep talking.
Dutch
Honestly? Dutch wasn't exactly excited when he found out you sleep talk. Dutch is a person who needs his sleep so he can recharge his brain and think of some new plans. But that's hard to do when you're mumbling about hedgehogs on robberies at 4am.
Usually the next morning Dutch tells you all about your sleep talking, hoping to get some pity from you since he rarely goes back to sleep once you start talking. Most nights, Dutch begrudgingly lays there and listens to you mumble, not paying any interest until he hears you say his name.
Dutch is very intrigued in your sleep talking since he heard you say his name, trying to get some info out of you and see if you're truly happy with him. There's been a few times he's tried to have a conversation with you as you sleep talk, coaxing whatever he can out of you but you never give him a proper answer.
Micah
Micah saw this as a burden at first. Sure, he loves being next to you and dozing off, strangely feeling safe and comfortable enough to sleep around you but then the sleep talking started.
It was annoying, your incoherent mumblings waking him up every few nights. A small part of Micah found it cute and funny that you'd say random words out of nowhere but then you mention his name.
Micah is so goddamn smug the next morning, teasing you about how even when you're asleep you can't stop thinking about him. Yeah he absolutely loves to bring it up, repeating whatever you say while asleep and he may or may not have lied about you saying some great things about him too.
John
When John woke up to hear you talking in the middle of the night, he doesn't realize you're still asleep and John starts talking back, trying to make sense of what's going on.
He tries talking to you for about five minutes before he accidentally prods you awake and you're completely confused as to what's going on. John's confused too, not understanding how you don’t remember the conversation and repeating what you said a few minutes beforehand.
Things start to click in his head and he eventually realizes you sleep talk. Honestly John is very understanding about it, ignoring it most nights but whenever you mumble his name, John instantly wakes you up and asks what you were dreaming about. He can't help himself and wants to know immediately why you were thinking about him, hoping it's positive and you weren't having a nightmare.
Javier
Javier definitely thought it was surprising when you started talking about what to put in the stew at half three in the morning. He whispers your name a few times before coming to the conclusion you're fast asleep.
He casually mentions it to you one morning, asking if you were actually dreaming about teaching sheep how to shoot rifles last night. When you get flustered, he apologises and says he loves listening to you talk in your sleep, kissing you sweetly.
Javier never tells you when you say his name in your sleep. He hears you and of course he's so goddamn curious as to why but he understands that it's something you're saying subconsciously and that you might not be aware you're even saying it. But whenever you say his name in your sleep, Javier can't help but drift off to sleep with a smile on his face.
Bill
Good news is Bill sleep talks too, bad news is he's more of a sleep shouter than a sleep talker. Seriously, sometimes the others will hardly get any sleep over it or else Arthur might barge into your tent and wake Bill up.
Because of Bill's own issues with sleep shouting talking, he rarely hears you sleep talking, only ever hearing you a handful of times when he returns late to camp after a robbery.
Bill finds it hilarious. But in a relatable funny kinda way. He's never heard anyone else sleep talk so to hear you, the one person he's head over heels in love with, sleep talk too, it has completely convinced him y'all were meant to be.
Sean
Your sleep talking has truly inspired Sean. It's given him the motivation he's needed to learn how to read and write. Why? Because according to Sean, the stuff you say when you're asleep is so funny, he NEEDS to keep a journal logging it.
He loves it, often repeating almost everything you've said the next morning. If you ever get flustered over it, Sean reassures you he's only telling you about it because it's something he loves about you and that listening to you talk at night is one of his new favourite hobbies.
There have been nights where he'll try whispering things into your ear in the hopes you'll give an actual response, mainly he says stuff like "How much do you love Sean?" and "So... do you uh... you like MacGuire Junior, right?". Usually you mumble something completely irrelevant to his question.
Hosea
Sometimes Hosea talks in his sleep too, not as often as you but he doesn't mind it if you ever wake him up due to your talking. Although Hosea's typically in a deep sleep by the time you start sleep talking.
But whenever Hosea's late back from a job or too focused on planning a con to sleep, he'll listen to your ramblings, smiling every now and again at what you say. If he ever hears you say his name, Hosea just shrugs it off, presuming you're dreaming about being at camp or on a job with him.
Honestly Hosea's impressed with the things you say in your sleep. Sometimes you make some great suggestions for robberies while you sleep and Hosea may or may not have taken some inspiration from the things you've said.
Kieran
Kieran was alarmed when he was woken up by someone talking. As his eyes adjusted to the dark interior of your tent and his brain tried to make out the words, he was half expecting it to be the O'Driscoll's having finally caught up to him. But he thankfully sighed in relief when he realized it was you.
If he's had a long day, Kieran might sandwich two pillows over his ears to try and get some sleep while you ramble on but he never wants to wake you and disrupt your sleep.
Oh how his heart flutters when he hears you say his name. He's tempted to mention it to you but Kieran feels as though that might be an invasion of privacy considering you're asleep when you say it, but it's something that always warms his heart.
#me: I’m gonna get back into posting regularly :D#also me: *posts like once every week and a half*#writings#headcanons#arthur morgan#charles smith#dutch van der linde#micah bell#john marston#javier escuella#bill williamson#sean macguire#hosea matthews#kieran duffy#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#thank u for the request anon!#sorry it took so long for me to do <3
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Oooo, this is a good one!! I always love getting requests from you!
✩ Requests are open!! Read the rules first! Gender neutral reader! ✩
✩ Masterlist! ✩
✩ Taglist: @mallr4ts @reddeadrevolutionn @thedoodlenoodle-wa
✩ If you want to be added to a taglist, fill this out! ✩
✩ Warnings: None! ✩
The VDL Gang Finds Out You Like Them (Gender Neutral Reader!)☀️✨
Arthur will blush so hard, he looks like the lit end of a cigarette. When you finally gathered up all the courage you had and told him your feelings, he thought it was a prank or a joke Sean had put you up to. No, some one as beautiful as you are could never find an old (in his mind), grumpy gunslinger like him attractive and desirable. He asks you to give him some time to give you an answer, which obviously you agree to. A day or two later, Arthur comes up to you while you’re pouring yourself a cup of coffee, taking your free hand and nodding, his face still pretty red.
“You sure ya’ want an old, grumpy man like me, darlin’?”
Bill is a lot like Arthur in this aspect. He blushes so hard, his beard makes him look like a reverse strawberry.
“N-Nah, you must got the wrong guy, partner. Javier and Sean ain’t o’er here.”
Since Bill is always picked on and made fun of by the others in camp, he grew to believe that he undesirable by others. So when he heard you confess to him, he thought it was a joke just like Arthur did. But then you moved to sit on his lap, Bill’s thoughts on the credibility of your confession changing. You placed your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek and snuggling into him when you felt his hands hold onto your waist.
When you confess to Charles, he takes your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. He thinks to himself for a minute, then he looked up at you with a small smile. Charles gently tugged you close to his chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You beat me, little Dove. I was planning on telling you.”
Dutch get’s really cocky when you admit your feelings to him. He pretends that he knew all along that you liked him, but he didn’t. He’s just spewing bull crap again, so don’t believe it lol. Dutch didn’t seem to care all that much when you confessed. Just don’t expect his infatuation with you to last very long.
“Alright, sweetheart! Bring a few blankets to my tent tonight!”
Telling Javier was surprisingly very easy. When you walked up to him, he perked up, seemingly excited to see you.
“Ah! Mi amor! It’s nice to see you!” He said with a big, goofy smile, standing up to meet you halfway. He held your hands and laced your fingers together, holding them close to his body. “Where have ya’ been all day?”
You giggle softly, face heating up. Asking him out on a date was the easiest part, surprisingly enough. Keeping Javier from running around camp and telling everyone in a five mile radius is the hard part. You did let him tell Charles, though.
Mi hermosa novia/novio is what Javier calls you now. You didn’t know what it meant at first, but when he told you it means ‘his beautiful boyfriend/girlfriend’, you just kinda melted into the grass.
John almost passes out when you tell him about your affections for him. He can barely wrap his head around that someone as beautiful as you are could possibly be attracted to a scared up looser like he thought he was. Hell, Abigail barely put up with him for the time that they were together, so why would you want to be with him? It takes him a minute or two (more like a couple of days) to be fully convinced that you’re telling him the truth.
“So, you really want an idiot like me, huh?”
When you tell Josiah, it was the easier than anyone else because somehow, he already knew about your affections. Given that he’s in everyone else’s business, why wouldn’t he be in yours?
“Why, of course I knew about it, dear! I have eyes and ears everywhere, you know!”
Kieran turns red just like Bill did. He barely can reply to you without stuttering and stumbling over all of his words. Whatever you do, don’t kiss his cheek right after because you WILL kill him. And you can’t date a dead man, now can you?
“O-O-Oh, darl-darlin’, are yo-you sure? Y-You sure you’re s-s-sweet on me? You-You ain’t got the-the wrong guy’re nothin’?”
Lenny is pretty easy to confess to, given how laid back he is normally. He almost kisses you right on the spot as an answer, but then restrains himself because that’s not very ‘gentlemanly’ of him. Good lord give this man a hug and a kiss he’s too sweet for his own good.
Micah, on the other hand, is even more cocky than Dutch is, if that’s possible. He is so fucking smug about it I swear to god. He’ll rub it in your face about how you have a crush on him, it’s so annoying but in a way you find it cute.
“Aww, looky here, the camp sweetheart has a crush on big bad Micah Bell. What’cha gonna do about it, darlin’? You gonna do somethin’ ‘bout it? Gonna try an’ tame me?”
When confessing to Sean, he’s all smirks and teasing. His accent even gets a bit thicker due to his excitement.
“Ohh, I knew my good ol’ MacGuire charm would work on one of ya’! Come ‘ere, let me love on ya’, sweetheart!”
He then proceeds to pull you in close to his chest, smothering you in kisses all over your face and neck. Sean even sneaks a kiss onto your lips, making you blush as red as his hair. If you let him, Sean will brag about you to everyone else in camp that’ll listen to him.
Soon, his ‘Ya’ know, my Da once told me-” to “Ya’ know, my darlin’ did the cutest ting the ot’er day-”
#arthur morgan x reader#bill williamson x reader#charles smith x reader#dutch x reader#javier escuella x reader#john marston x reader#josiah trelawny#kieran duffy x reader#lenny summers x reader#micah bell x reader#sean macguire x reader#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 spoiler free#rdr2 headcanons#rdr2 requests#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 bill#rdr2 charles#rdr2 dutch#rdr2 javier#rdr2 john#rdr2 josiah#rdr2 kieran#rdr2 lenny#rdr2 micah#rdr2 sean#x reader#gender neutral s/o#s/o imagines#s/o headcanons
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The Hottest Avenger - Bucky Barnes
a/n: im warning you, i will probably not stop for a while with the bucky fics so... brace yourselves lol! also i wrote this before ep 5 came out so its placed in that time
pairing: Bucky X Reader
warnings: TFATWS spoiler, some violence? nothing extreme
word count: 1.8k
summary: Being locked together with Sam and Bucky brings the worst out of you, picking on each other constantly. Following an arguement Bucky accidentally calls you his girlfriend in front of Sam when your relationship was supposed to be a secret.
masterlist
“Did you fucking eat the last dumpling?” you accuse Sam, holding up the empty takeout box where you thought were one more dumpling, one you’ve saved for yourself, but now it’s gone as Sam is eyeing you with his mouth full.
“Thought it was mine,” he mumbles, his words barely understandable from all the food in his mouth.
Taking a deep breath you’re trying not to jump at his throat right then and there. You’ve been locked up together all damn day in the trashy apartment across the street from the building where’s Zemo supposed to be hiding. Sharon had a tip about a possible place where he might be found, but you’ve been waiting to no avail for now. You’ve been growing stressed and impatient. You lost track of Karli and her people and now you can’t seem to find Zemo either. If it wasn’t for the Dora Milaje, you wouldn’t bother to be so after the asshole, but Bucky said if Ayo finds him first, he is dead and every useful information he holds goes to the grave with him so now you are forced to look for him. One failed mission has been following the other these days, that incompetent dickhead John is on the loose too after murdering that man in front of civilians and you feel like control has slipped out of your grip a long time ago. Now you’re stuck with Sam and Bucky in this crappy place, waiting by the window, watching out for Zemo and on top of everything… Sam ate your last dumpling.
Just when you’re about to snap at him, you feel a strong grip on your shoulder. You don’t have to look up to know it’s Bucky right behind you, but not just because he is the only other person in the room beside you and Sam, but also because you know his touch probably more than anyone. Only that most of the times it’s not your shoulder he is gripping…
It’s been going on for a long time between the two of you. Started with just some innocent flirting and you never thought it would grow into something more significant, but it did. And now you are officially in a relationship with none other than the Winter Soldier, only that no one else knows about it and you plan to keep it that way. You don’t need the teasing and jokes and the Avengers are known to be dicks sometimes, especially Sam.
Glancing up your eyes meet Bucky’s blue irises and he sends you a look that says “just let it go”, and though every fiber in you wants to whoop Sam’s ass, you let it slip.
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna get mad about a dumpling,” Sam chuckles as he chews on the food that you should be enjoying right now.
“I can get mad about whatever I want to,” you growl back, growing quite irritated of him at this point.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he huffs under his breath, clearly not as bothered as he should be. Before you could do any harm in him, you leave your spot by the window, needing a breather from… well, from him.
“Hey, it’s still your turn!” he calls after you.
“I need a break,” you growl back.
“Get your ass back here, we agreed to switch every two hours!”
“Sam! I’m walking out because I’m way too tempted to punch you in the face right now!” you snap at him, losing your patience. He rises from his seat with a hard expression, not quite a fan of the way you just talked to him, but you couldn’t care less.
“You think you could actually throw one? Because last time we fought you couldn’t really get a hold of me,” he narrows his eyes at you, coming to stand tall in front of you, trying to intimidate you with how much taller and stronger he might be, but you both know you’re a better fighter.
“It’s easy to talk with your fancy tech stuff. Why don’t we see who wins in a simple battle?” you challenge him with faked boredom.
“Guys, stop. We should be looking out for Zemo, not tearing each other apart,” Bucky tries to end the staring contest, sticking his metal arm between the two of you in case any of you decides to launch at the other one.
“Then tell her to stop bitching!” Sam nods in your way.
“I’m not bitching, I’m just fed up with your bullshit!” you spat back at him, leaning closer, your chest coming in contact with Bucky’s extended arm.
“Don’t talk to her like that, Sam,” Bucky warns him, but Sam snorts dryly.
“Don’t tell me you are taking her side, she is throwing a fit for a fucking dumpling!”
“I’m not taking sides, just trying to settle this stupid disagreement here,” he defends himself and you roll your eyes.
“You can’t tell me she is not overreacting it, Buck!” Sam laughs in disbelief, taking a step back, dropping the act that he wants to fight you. He probably knows he would come out as a ridiculous loser. “This is fucking insane, I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit, Y/N,” he shakes his head.
“Hey!” Bucky snaps at him. “Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that, okay?!”
“I’m just—wait, what?!” Sam’s eyes widen and you freeze too.
Your dumbass boyfriend didn’t just out the two of you, did he? What else is about to come?! Sam’s shock turns into a cocky grin as his eyes shift between you and Bucky.
“You guys… you guys are fucking?” he asks with a delightful laugh and you close your eyes sighing, already tired of his shit.
“That’s not—We’re not fucking, I mean… It’s not like that,” Bucky stutters, but it’s just making it worse. He looks at you with terror in his eyes, but you are way too drained to deal with it the right way.
“Yes, we are fucking! And we are in a mature adult relationship! Get yourself over it!” you bark at Sam before turning around and walking out.
You faintly hear the two men talk inside, but you don’t make out the words. You don’t go too far, sitting on the steps leading up to the third floor. Soon enough you hear the door of the apartment open with a creak and a moment later Bucky shows up in your sight. He sits beside you, remaining silent for a little before speaking up.
“Sorry for running my mouth,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.
“It’s… fine,” you breathe out. Bucky fidgets with his fingers and you know he wants to touch you in any kind of way as a reassurance that it really is fine. You don’t want to hold a grudge, it was an accident, you’re just a little bummed it’s not gonna be just the two of you anymore. Reaching out you take his hand, the real one that’s flesh and meat and you lace your fingers together as he peeks at you, still reserved and hesitant.
“Is it really fine or are you just bottling it up?”
“It really is fine,” you chuckle softly and leaning closer you kiss his scruffy cheek. “The only reason I wanted to keep it a secret is because you know how vickery the guys can get. I just didn’t want them to pick on us.”
“They do it because they are just jealous,” he smirks playfully, his shoulder bumping against yours.
“Yeah? Of what?” A soft chuckle slips through your lips.
“That I scored the hottest Avenger,” he replies smugly and you can’t help but laugh with your head snapping back.
“I didn’t know you were fucking Thor!” you retort and immediately see his smirk vanish from his lips as he stares back at you, not enjoying your joke as much as you are.
“Thor? Really? Not this shit again, Y/N,” he narrows his eyes at you. Back when you were just skirting around each other, you loved pulling his leg, joking about how much you are into the hottest Avenger, aka Thor. He never appreciated it, usually earned you a tight-lipped smile before he mumbled “Tarzan’s got nothing on me” before walking away, leaving you laughing like a hyena.
“Come on, you know I’m more into super soldiers,” you grin, leaning closer as he pepper his sharp jawline with more small kisses.
“You know, it’s not the best thing to say to your boyfriend when there are now about eight more super soldiers running around,” he huffs.
“But none of them has a metal arm,” you point out, finally making him laugh.
“So that’s your kink? A vibranium arm?” he asks with faked shock and you curl your arms around his bicep, resting your chin on his shoulder.
“How haven’t you realized yet?” you chuckle. Bucky turns his head until his lips can capture yours in a sweet, lighthearted kiss that makes you forget about everything that’s been clouding over your mind these past days. All the failures, the mistakes and chaos fades into nothing, because you have him and he has you.
Walking back into the apartment Sam stares back at you, neither of you entirely sure how to act after what just happened. He then grabs his phone from the dusty table before holding it up.
“I could order some extra dumplings,” he offers and you crack a smile shaking your head. This was his peace offering, both of you knows he won’t straight up apologize for the way he talked, but this is already more than what you were expecting from him. Bucky must have had a few words with him before joining you outside.
“It’s all good.”
The three of you get back to work, taking your previous spots, returning to the task on hand as silence falls on the room once again. You catch Sam glancing at you and the Bucky and you can tell he is about to make a snarky comment on your relationship. And just as he is about to open his big mouth, Bucky moves to silence him, but you’re faster. With a simple move you throw Sam to the ground, keeping him down with your hand wrapped around his neck.
“Don’t even think about teasing, understood?” you hiss at him as he gasps for air, his hands wrapping around your wrist as he tries to fight you off, but you hold him a second longer to emphasize the importance of your words. Then you finally let go of him and he coughs for air, fixing him up from the floor as you simply walk back to your spot by the window.
“Hottest Avenger, huh?” he breathes out, revealing that he heard what you talked about out on the stairs. “More like the Avenger with the most anger issues…”
You just grin, glancing over at your boyfriend who is now standing with his arms crossed over his chest, not even bothered by his friend’s struggles on the floor as he smirks back at you, nodding proudly as if he was saying: “That’s my girl.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#the falcon and the winter soldier#the falcon and the winter solider spoilers#TFATWS#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky#bucky imagine#bucky au#bucky fanfiction#bucky oneshot#bucky angst#bucky fluff#bucky one shot#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#sebastian stan
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Reformed Gotham Villains TV Show Idea: Ex-Rogues (One Hell of a Long Post!)
Credit to @iceberg-lounge-staffmeme for the original premise: Oswald Cobblepot has gone straight along with some other Gotham rogues he’s hired in the now legitimate Iceberg Lounge, all of whom are social pariahs.
I’m expanding on this to say that several of the city’s ‘A-list’ supervillains are rehabilitated. This was made possible partly by Bruce Wayne’s donations to Arkham making the institution a productive rehabilitation centre (I know, unbelievable), and him bettering the city in general. Every ex-rogue goes to therapy. They all have PTSD if not C-PTSD due to their tragic backstories, something that happened while they were rogues or both, and some have other disorders beside. Realistic mental illness representation! Relapses will probably occur, but they will be portrayed as natural and fixable and no one will return to evil. They’re just trying to keep their and their friends’ lives safe, stable and free from costumed drama of any morality. However, their crimes are forgiven by a select few and forgotten by none. And this is Gotham - there’s always drama. The most infamous villains leaving the scene has opened the door to both more obscure and brand new villains’ ascensions. Don’t you think that would be cool? A break from the same old Gotham rogues featured again and again in adaptations? New characters with their own backstories and themes? ‘Cause I think it has great potential.
The show varies in tone and has sitcom elements, but is overall a serialized drama.
The title card is ‘ROGUES’ being written in large, jagged, erratic, blood-red letters against a black background, a pause, and then ‘Ex-’ typed before it in much smaller, neat white standard font. I can picture a promotional image with the characters doing mundane tasks in the Iceberg Lounge’s lobby, but their shadows are their villainous selves.
Every main character has two leitmotifs: their normal one, and their villain identity’s that’s mostly restricted to flashbacks to that time, flashbacks even further back as foreshadowing and allusions and discussion of what they were like then now. If the villainous one is heard in the present, it means that part of their past is haunting them or even that they’re acting kinda similar. Unless the leitmotif rearranged triumphantly and heroically, in which case they’re applying a skill, tool, piece of information, etc. they only have because of their criminal activities for good.
The ex-rogues are a very close and protective group. Interpersonal relationships vary, but whether two individuals mesh that well or not they’ve overall got an unshakable solidarity and understanding. Once you’ve tried to kill each other enough, a certain tension leaves the relationship, you know? They’ve seen each other at their lowest points. They casually joke and tease themselves and one another about their supervillain identities and activities, which would be irritating at best and triggering at worst from anyone else. Through flashbacks we watch their dynamics evolve from enemies and rivals who happen to have a common enemy to a weird, messed up, weird found family. The Iceberg Lounge crew are the prime example of this, being the core cast. Yet possibly not Gotham’s weirdest and most messed up found family! *meaningful look at Batfam*
The timeline is left vague to avoid such difficult questions as “Wow, they must have racked up a massive body count in those decades of evil, can they seriously be allowed to live among normal people?”. I can already see the giant, meticulous blog posts and videos by fans who’ve attempted to pinpoint dates using tiny scattered details. This is a warning - I’ll preemptively salute your dedication, but the series will ideally be deliberately written to foil you. It operates on comic book time. I will tell you Harley, Ivy and Victor were the first to reform all in a relatively short timeframe (motivated by love or selflessness) and Oswald, Eddie, John and Waylon (motivated by cruelty and/or pride, and Waylon couldn’t make lasting progress until his regressive condition could be reversed) came later. Selina wound down from anti-villain to anti-hero to fully heroic gradually. Plus Nora has been in suspended animation for seven years, previously the same age as Victor. The Batfamily is Bruce as Batman; Dick as Nightwing; Barbara as Oracle; Jason as Red Hood (a violent, ostensibly aloof but ultimately reliable vigilante rather than a crime lord); Tim as Red Robin; Cass as Black Bat; Steph as Batgirl; a teenage Damian as Robin; and Duke as the Signal. The implication is you could be watching a parallel show about the Batfamily in this continuity every episode and there are many ‘crossover’ episodes with it.
Oswald is the group’s de factor leader and responsible ‘dad friend’, often the exasperated straight man. He operates the Iceberg Lounge, which has earned a reputation as a safe space for the marginalized, including former criminals and criminals of necessity. That’s a big demographic in Gotham. His intimate knowledge of the criminal hierarchy and network helps him discern who to trust and defend, and who will only mean trouble. It’s taken him years and profuse effort to convince Batman it isn’t a facade this time; now Batman and Oracle sporadically consult him for his underworld intel and brilliant strategic thinking when they’ve hit a complete dead end in a case. No matter what you need, he knows someone in the city who can provide it. You know how one of the canon Penguin’s most terrifying trademarks is, totally untraceably, manipulating the lives of anyone who offends, annoys or hurts his feelings, even in the smallest and most unintentional way, into ruin and a premature end? Now he does the good version of that. Did you flash him a genuine smile in school, make amiable small talk to him once? Do anything to make him feel like a person with worth? Boom! Debts paid, dream house, dream job, won the holiday you’ve always wanted, your favourite cafe opened right down the street, all equally untraceable. The same service is done for his surviving victims and victims’ families. Still creepy, but the way he sees it he’ll always be creepy - might as well use it to benefit others. He’s trying. He records a journal of acts of human kindness. The Iceberg’s Lounge is the ex-rogues’ favourite hangout, and frequently hosts their game and movie nights in his penthouse. With enough of the social validation he’s always yearned for, he’s much less temperamental and insecure. He donates a significant cut of his income to animal preservation charities and projects, especially bird-related ones, and is the doting owner of a flock of pigeons in a luxury enclosure. He dislikes being called the Penguin, it’s just the insult it was to him as a boy with extra shame. His friends may call him Ozzie.
Harvey Dent is the nightclub’s company lawyer. His services are also available for free to anyone who needs a lawyer, he continues to protest Gotham’s corrupt justice system and he gives legal advice to underprivileged and marginalized young people. He’s the same kind, just, honourable guy he is usually; the main changes are he finds it easier to healthily express and process anger and negotiate with and stand up to his alter. Bruce Wayne is his best friend, they hang out and collaborate a lot. He feels immense debt toward Bruce for standing by him through his fall and recovery. He and the rest (his alter included) have a deal that they’ll do their absolute best to stay out of legal trouble, and if they get into it and it isn’t their fault or at least not worth the punishment they’ll receive he’ll come to their defence. He’s an excellent orator and the group’s reliable moral compass. Two-Face is more relaxed and rational due to Harvey letting out a fairer portion of their anger. He still has a bad habit of property damage. A key catalyst for his improvement was therapy that respected him as an independent, redeemable personality instead of treating him like a disease to be eradicated. He’s cynical, standoffish, unfamiliar with vulnerability and has little filter, but despite his complaints about them he values his friends far more than himself. He dislikes Bruce in person, but is grateful to and admires him objectively, will tolerate him and would save his life if he had to. He and Harvey are actual friends. Borderline brothers eventually, although their tastes and attitudes continue to clash. Harvey doesn’t forgive Two-Face anything he’s done, neither does Two-Face ask forgiveness of anyone, but they understand each other in a way no one else can. Two-Face was born a protector alter. He slowly went off the deep end and became a persecutor, but that benevolent protective instinct has been salvaged. He feels constant, immeasurable self-loathing with his new conscience, but unable to harm his body for Harvey’s innocence releases it onto external targets and through non-physical self-destructive behaviour. Harvey feels a lot of guilt and shame himself and they both struggle with self-harm. They still flip a coin to make trivial decisions sometimes and fiddle with it when uneasy, but a regular heads and tails one. The scarred coin has been donated to Gotham Human History Museum’s Rogues’ Gallery (heh heh). It’s forbidden to them because it to them offers a moral dichotomy of choices, not merely a trivial one, therefore giving a 50% chance they’ll feel obligated to act immorally. They did get plastic surgery on their burn scars, but its main goal was to reduce the scars’ painfulness and inconvenience and the left side of their face remains permanently disfigured. This was a choice to reflect how their mental scars and problems didn’t just disappear when they went straight. Their left eye’s vision is better after surgeries, but below average.
Victor Fries creates decorations out of ice and frost for the Lounge and sells ice sculptures. When not in use, the freeze ray is stored in a hidden safe he alone knows the code to and Selina alone could open without it. He enjoys these jobs and they provide a decent income, but his passion is an aerial, enlarged version of his freeze ray he’s designing, the Ice Restoration Ray (IRR). He hopes it will be able to rebuild the crumbling polar ice caps and cool the warming atmosphere. This global concern is a notable departure from his past where he only cared about Nora and himself. Wayne Enterprises’s medical department is developing a cure for his wife’s terminal disease, Victor having willingly granted it her cryogenically preserved body. Bruce supports his project and has sworn to fund the finished design’s construction. Don’t let his unemotional exterior and detached mannerisms fool you, he’s a kindhearted romantic. He doesn’t mind being called Mr Freeze. Pronouncing Fries like the fried potato strips, on the other hand…
Selina Kyle is a waitress at the Lounge. It’s an open secret among the ex-rogues that she took the job to keep an eye on Oswald and the others with records, but she grows to genuinely enjoy it and their company. She was never insane or sent to Arkham; has never killed (she quips she only ever hurt rich gits’ pride and Batman’s feelings); was a thief, didn’t rob anyone who couldn’t manage without the item and outright returned a couple things of particular sentimental value; and aided Batman and/or fought worse rogues on numerous occasions. All this and currently being Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend means there’s a palpable divide between her and the other ex-rogues. She doesn’t agree with ever being considered a villain, for starters. Her arc is navigating how her identity of so long was inextricably linked to her moral ambiguity and solitude. Who is Selina Kyle without selfishness as a defining trait? Without the exhilaration of crime and no definite commitment to any faction or type of relationship? A pretty fantastic person, it turns out. A person society could admire and respect. But the real ex-villains in her circle have society’s eternal condemnation, so what does that mean for their friendship? Should she leave them behind and prioritize her own advancement? The old her would have. But she ultimately decides to continue serving at the Lounge and spending time with the group because she loves them more than her reputation to the same snooty upper class she used to rob… and ‘cause she’s, barring her impulsive streak and milder thrill-seeking behaviour, the most levelheaded and practical ex-rogue after Oswald. And literally the only one who hasn’t been committed to an insane asylum. They need her.
Waylon Jones is a chef in the Lounge kitchen. Hey, you live poor and homeless as long as he has and have a heightened sense of smell, you develop an appreciation for food. He’s also desperate to distance himself from his infamous cannibalism, which he only did in his crocodilian mental state. His condition gives him green scaly skin, claws and pointed teeth that have made him a persecuted outcast his whole life, but its true nature is far worse than scaring those around him. It’s progressive, slowly consuming his mental processes and further mutating his features when left unchecked. His natural intelligence is average but was formerly reduced to stupid and almost totally animalistic. After reforming, Jonathon Crane invented a drug that keeps the progression at bay. He gives it to him free. Waylon resents his condition deeply. Losing his humanity and higher thought irreversibly is his worst fear. He may be poorly educated, but he’s very clever in a practical, unconventional way. He’s timid, unconfident and mistrustful around strangers and quick to get defensive, used to being perceived solely as a mindless beast or evil freak, and unconditionally loyal and loving to those he trusts. A job that keeps him out of the public eye is perfect. Brushing off his friends’ offers to find him somewhere to stay, he insists he’s fine in his shelter in the spacious underground caverns below the city. This is half because he doesn’t want to cause any more trouble in the society above he knows won’t ever accept him. The other half? Waylon is a champion of Gotham’s homeless population, of the forgotten and abandoned. His shelter is a haven for a community of them too. There have been countless forceful relocations of the homeless, and the police will need to get through him to try it again! He detests being called Killer Croc, but doesn’t have the energy to protest it and risk looking aggressive.
Pamela Isley runs an organization that replants trees, rewilds spaces and opposes deforestation. Her bond with plants makes it very successful, telling her precisely what the flora (and ecosystem by extension) in an area need. Bruce Wayne is the organization’s first and biggest benefactor. She lives in a flat near the Lounge with her girlfriend Harley. They’ve been dating since they were criminals. She doesn’t mind being called Poison Ivy, and happily accepts Ivy as a nickname.
Harleen Quinzel is a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum again. She champions better mental healthcare and public destigmatization of mental illness. Well, they all do, but for them it’s more on the side. She’s slightly rankled to be called Harley Quinn - nobody’d called her that before the Joker, so she associates it strongly with him and her time as a criminal - except by her fellow ex-rogues and the Batfamily, who’ve followed her recovery and she can trust accept that part of her. I’ll call her Harley for convenience. She typically wears a ponytail, a compromise between her pre-insanity tight bun and villainous childish pigtails. Maybe with pink and blue streaks?
Jonathan Crane reversed his fear toxin to produce a new line of anxiety medication that he anonymously sells to Wayne Enterprises, getting the money with none of the credit. He chose this, aware nobody would ever trust a chemical compound ‘the Scarecrow’ made (please do not call him that, by the way). It has less dangerous side effects and better results than any previous medication. He has a mental health information and advice website too. As well as suffering from generalized anxiety disorder before he decided to master fear, and PTSD then and now from his childhood, his toxin attacks were responsible for many cases of anxiety disorders, phobias and PTSD. I mean, the initial idea behind the fear toxin was to show others how he felt all the time. So he really feels a need to give back to the mentally ill. A former teacher, he has a soft spot for children and is skilled at engaging with them.
Edward Nygma is an exceptionally skilled private detective. He also sometimes collaborates with the Bats, who he greatly respects. Prior to his current job he created a popular puzzle game app, a last hurrah for his obsession with games and riddles. He helped John set up his website. A doctor of computer science and nerd genius nerd extraordinaire not totally over his problem of equating his worth and intelligence, he most enjoys the company of his fellow intellectuals and kinda keeps himself to himself more, alternately awkward and reserved and defaulting to his cocky facade in social interaction with normal people. He’s still pretty lonely, not that he’ll admit it. He takes being referred to as the Riddler nonchalantly.
The Joker is dead. He died three years before the show begins. How exactly is never explained (letting you fill in whatever seems most apt to you, my personal headcanon is Alfred kills him) due to being ubiquitous knowledge, but it was very cathartic. The anniversary of his death is almost an unofficial civic holiday, nicknamed Joker Day. The ex-rogues have arranged to annually hold a mock funeral for him. They give comedic eulogies about how little they’ll miss their dearly despised and the countless ways he was an awful person, a different head speaker stepping forward each year in rotation, and bury a biodegradable dummy of him beneath a creatively hand-decorated plaque. The idea is to get it off their chest so the rest of the year they needn’t spare a thought to him. Having had to inhabit both Arkham and the Gotham underworld with him and know him personally, they have a wealth of stories. Harley’s always declined because the scumbag’s given her so much baggage she wasn’t ready to verbalize it before a bigger audience. The Season One episode “Joker Day” involves her volunteering to be head speaker of the fourth Joker Day. Suffice to say, it gets… emotionally intense. After deconstructing his whole character, paying her disrespects magnificently, explaining how her and them overcoming the worst in themselves to live well and happily is the ultimate insult to his memory with his obsession with nihilism and corruption, and knocking the dummy into the grave with her bat hard enough to decapitate it, Harley spots Batman on the rooftop above them, clapping along with her friends. She waves. “Batman! Why don’t you come down? I bet your Joker stories are the best in the world.” He simply quirks his mouth in a smile and says, “Maybe next year. I couldn’t follow that speech.” But besides Joker Day episodes (in the last one, Selina invites the Red Hood to speak in her place and he agrees enthusiastically, reckoning he was more of a villain than she ever was) and a few references here and there, the show doesn’t dwell on him. *cough* The Joker is overexposed and overrated. *cough*
You’ll have noticed the name Wayne comes up a lot. Yeah, Bruce is an important side character. He’s the idol and ‘big good’ of the whole city. The group’s opinions on Batman are… diverse, but even the minority who aren’t themselves indebted to Bruce will defend him on principle and their friends’ behalf. It’s a running joke that the next person foolish enough to kidnap or threaten the billionaire will have absolute hell to pay. This inevitably leads to the episode where a major villain does kidnap Bruce, and the Batfamily get some unexpected allies on their rescue mission…
Wayne Enterprises cures Nora early on. I mean, Victor probably would be less pacified if it still seemed hopeless. The cold open is extended to a montage of the couple becoming friends, falling in love, getting married, that establishes not only their healthy, committed relationship but that they have their own whole lives. They’re successful in their respective fields and have lots of friends. Nora’s parents died previously of natural causes, but Victor is close with his. They watch movies and have in-jokes and plan holidays. And then Nora starts to get sick. And it turns out to be terminal. She loses her job and falls into depression as it worsens, pushing away her friends and giving up all activity. “I need more time,” she begs brokenly. When Victor decides to invent his crysostatis chamber to buy her more time, it’s the first thing in months that puts light back in her eyes. “I can give you more time.” His boss Ferris Boyle order the project shut down out of callous miserliness. Victor goes behind his back to save his wife and we fade from a POV shot of her being anaesthetised to the title screen. Her revival is at the beginning of the episode. Though naturally concerned about her husband’s condition and crushed their physical relationship is dead, she’s overwhelmingly glad his suit is sustainable and she’s permanently cured. She thought her life, and their life together, were over, and as she puts it knowing they aren’t is “all [she] needs”. She ecstatically walks and runs around the room after having been bedridden for weeks and leaps into Victor’s arms. They hug. Nora remarks she’s pleased the suit at least makes Victor strong enough to lift her effortlessly. She’s crying, Victor’s been crying the whole time. Bruce is sobbing inconsolably - when Selina remarks it’s out of character, he replies he’s been wanting to cry about their love story ever since he learned Mr Freeze’s motivation, but couldn’t because he was Batman. It’s exactly as beautiful as you’d expect such a long-awaited reunion to be. Then Victor’s smiles falters. He asks for the two to have some privacy. Alone, he explains just what he’s been doing in Nora’s hibernation. No omissions, no sugarcoating. He was a supervillain. He funded his technology through crime and has innocent blood on his hands. She deserves to know, and hear it from him. They’re both tearful once more, for different reasons. She reacts how a sane person would: disbelief, betrayal, fury, heartbreak. He’s resigned to it. “If you can never trust me again, let alone enough to be my wife - if you never want to see me again, you can go. I wanted you back so you could live, not so I could have you.” She goes. The rest of the episode is Nora’s acclimatization to her new situation and her husband’s strange yet charming friends, who attempt to comfort and get to know her. Selina in particular takes her under her wing. Nora goes to an ice rink so early it’s deserted and unmarred, and skates for the first time since her diagnosis. While she puts on her boots, we see a flashback to her in the doctor’s office being told she’ll never do it again, and she struggles to stay composed, but cutting to her home she’s distraught and defeated in her husband’s arms, her trophies gleaming on the mantlepiece. Then the moment her boot blade touches the ice, a beautiful, stirring instrumental of bittersweet pleasure overtakes the previous silence. She’s amazing. She halts and holds her arms out in her triumphant finishing pose - shot from behind, an applauding audience and camera flashes appear in front of her before fading to just her, exhausted and free and alive, alone on the silent, frozen expanse. By the denouement Nora has cooled down enough to talk to him again. She expresses her gratitude for him preserving her life and acknowledges he sincerely loves her, but says she doesn’t know what to feel about him and she’ll be keeping her distance for the foreseeable future. “I need more time.” “I can give you that.”
Nora is a side character of similar relevance to Bruce. She gets her own arc of reclaiming her life, adjusting to and reasserting herself in a radically changed Gotham. The love of her life becoming a serial killer and crime boss is a huge blow to her positive outlook and view of humanity, causing her to be haunted with the fear that every good person is a just bad person waiting to happen, of what she could have done if she’d lost Victor and getting justice for them both was up to her. Would she have been the same? Or worse? Her new friendships teach her to trust again and show her that good and evil are choices we make, not fixed states of being. She’s a champion figure skater. She rises right back up to take her crown in the next championship. “The standards must have gone down while I was on ice!” She gets along best with Selina, Bruce, Ivy, Harley, Harvey and Waylon. She and Victor rekindle their bond, platonic and eventually romantic. He isn’t the man she married, he can’t undo that. But maybe he can be a better one. Knowing she’s okay makes him much more sentimental and generous. I just want them to go to the winter fair on a date and have a snowball fight, okay? For them to sit in an igloo and Nora to check her phone and confirm it’s below freezing, so after evaluating the risk, Victor removes the hand of his suit, she pulls off her glove and buries her hand in the snow to cool it down and they hold hands as long as they can. For her to breathe on his helmet and draw a heart in the condensation, followed by ‘I’ and ‘U’ on either side, in lieu of a kiss. For Victor to make her hot chocolate exactly how she likes it on a sleepless night. For Nora to discover his suit’s exhaust jets expel hot air, so if the positioning is right he can still give warm cuddles! When she learns of his crimes in her first episode, she throws her wedding ring at his feet before leaving. The culmination of their relationship arc is them having a wedding vow renewal ceremony, with her reaccepting the ring. I just want them to be an actual happy couple! Is that too much to ask?
Talia al Ghul is a recurring character. She remains an assassin, but is an anti-hero who becomes wholly independent of her father’s abusive power in a debut two-parter in which she’s the protagonist and wins a League of Assassins civil war between her and Ra’s. Bruce and her are on good platonic terms. Selina respects (and is quietly intimidated by) her competence and experienced motherliness toward Damian and Jason. Throughout the two-parter Selina is seemingly outshone by the old flame at every turn and feels insecure, until a heart-to-heart. Talia opens up that the upbringing that made her so insanely competent came with a boatload of mental issues, and she respects Selina’s resilience and courage when she’s so keenly, overtly aware of her flaws and weakness. “Under my father, there was no trying, no points for effort. Only success or failure. Perfection or utter inadequacy. It’s made me formidable, but… if I couldn’t be sure I’d succeed at everything I do, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. Passing that fear onto my son is my greatest regret. I doubt you can fail him more than I have. But you? You try. You make the effort knowing you may fall short. Today you’ve been so uncertain of your skills, even your worth, and I’m sorry for adding to that, yet you keep trying to help and make a difference anyway. You know the power of your best without needing it to always be the best, and therein lies your strength. I admire that. I admire you.” So they bond over thinking love was conditional, with Selina always feeling unworthy and Talia holding onto her worth to her father by a thread. The episodes involve flashbacks to Talia’s nightmarish childhood training and finally one of her subjecting Damian to the same (albeit with genuine love and tenderness between sessions), only to realize it and take him to his father. The climax is Talia, Batman, Robin, and Catwoman fighting Ra’s al Ghul together, telling him he won’t be hurting anyone - least of all their family - again; Selina is content to mostly play support, assured of her place in the family and unique strengths. Talia and the Gotham City Sirens subsequently have girls’ nights when she’s in town. She visits more often for her family and friends, but still not very frequently. Being that awesome is busy work! She’s considered an honorary ex-rogue.
Not all the homeless children in Waylon’s underground shelter have parents around, whether because their parents/former guardians are dead or in prison or abandoned them or got separated from them some other way, like during the process of immigration. Waylon is especially close to and protective of these kids, since in my canon his mother died when he was born (baby Waylon was too big), his father immediately took off and after raising him horribly his aunt disowned him when he was sent to juvie. He isn’t letting them feel alone in the world like he did. There’s a main group of three or four kids that get the most focus, for time’s sake. Though it takes him some time to call himself it upfront, he is their dad in everything but blood. They’re referred to as “his kids” by everyone including himself even before that. He has a subplot of coming to terms with the reality that the streets, or retired sewer tunnels but same difference, are not the proper environment for the kids however much he loves them that ties into his greater arc of learning to how live amongst other people and taking the place he deserves in society, which both culminate in him getting a home on the surface and actually adopting the main kids. The rest he struggles with saying goodbye to and trusting new guardians with, but ultimately lets them go to good, Wayhe Foundation-approved homes.
Harvey and Two-Face have an emotional support animal, a black and white kitten, with that half ‘n’ half face cats sometimes have who’s blind in her left eye, named Schrödinger (Schrödie for short). They adore her. Her presence and affection are so grounding and soothing she can help them out of dissociation, flashbacks and panic attacks. Feeding and cuddling her add extra stabilizing routine to their day. It helps that Two-Face could never bear to harm her, not even emotionally. Funnily enough, he adopted her. When their therapist suggested a pet might be beneficial, while Harvey was willing to consider it he thought it was beyond stupid; they had enough responsibilities, including each other, without a needy, annoying animal thrown into their complicated lives. But weeks later they’d been having a bad day and he switched in to find his alter had entered a cat shelter. He was leaving… when he saw her. The nameless kitten’s family had left her behind moving house. Whether the abandonment was deliberate or accidental the staff didn’t know. She was obviously unhappy in the shelter, but nobody had adopted her yet, often at least partly because of her disability. To this day Two-Face can’t say what came over him. Him being asked his reasons and deflecting is a running gag. The truth is he saw everyone had left her behind and wanted to show her they shouldn’t have, that she deserved love and care. Harvey awoke the next morning to the sound of purring and a weight on his lap, better rested than in ages. Selina’s black cat Isis is a maternal figure to Shrödinger.
John and Harley get along swimmingly. They connected over their common interest of psychology while villains and he is practically her father figure. They can often be seen having psychology talks and their ability to analyse their friends’ mental states and issues off the cuff kind of freaks the others out, who agree Harley at least is scarier as the uncompromisingly honest and precise psychiatrist.
Waylon, John and Oswald are good friends, each having known lifelong social rejection. John and Oswald can talk birds for hours.
Oswald conversely relates to Selina for the opposite reason: they were both caught in the middle between abiding the law and breaking it, being ‘civilized’ and basely selfish; they had more ground than the others to go straight, with his business long being partly legitimate and her merely a thief with strict standards. He empathizes and tries to assist with her high society drama. His arc involves unlearning his classism and habitual arrogant veneer - faults Selina is more than happy to rid him of, having a rough, destitute background herself - and the lingering mess of self-esteem issues linked to them.
Harvey’s arc is him overcoming the guilt complex, negative self-image and instinct to suppress his ‘problematic’ emotions and deny his suffering he internalized during his abused childhood and learning to not feel responsible for everyone else all the time. These flaws were reasons why Two-Face got as bad as he did and the basis of his resentment toward the dominant alter, since Harvey had refused to take any action about their father’s abuse or tell anyone he had DID, depriving Two-Face of his own identity and independence; so their relationship improves parallel to their respective individual growth. He’s a cool uncle to the Wayne children. Dick, Barbara and Jason knew him before the accident. Two-Face’s arc is him becoming more empathetic, attuned to others and mastering healthy coping mechanisms for his rage, basically figuring out who he is besides the anger he’s only allowed himself to feel for most of his existence. He doesn’t do so well with Bruce’s kids and hates the awkwardness of switching in in their company. Until he turns out to get along great with Jason and Damian. Harvey has a chance encounter with his heartbroken, estranged ex-wife Gilda Gold, who’s embittered that he didn’t tell her about his DID through years of friendship and marriage and tired of waiting for him and holding out hope just for him to relapse again and again. It goes badly. (“I showed you all of me. I trusted you with all of me. Even the parts that were messy and painful, and that I was ashamed and afraid of. But you had a whole other person in your head, who could have seen and heard things I meant only for you, and I had to find out not from you or him or anyone I knew, but the news because your alter was going on a fucking killing spree! I didn’t know what was going on! I barely even understood what DID was! And you weren’t there. I felt like I didn’t understand you, or know you, at all.” Harvey protests, reaching for her hand, “No. You knew me better than anyone -” She recoils in cold misery. “But not well enough. I know it’s always been worse for you than it is for me, but I don’t think it’s good for us to keep this cycle going. If you couldn’t even trust me then, how can I possibly trust you now?” He stutters and can’t respond. She walks away to avoid breaking down in front of him, with a final “I’m sorry”, and he falls to his knees.) This launches a relapse arc for the duo that climaxes with them attempting to steal their scarred coin back and the others staging a forceful intervention in the aforementioned Rogues’ Gallery (“How did you know I’d be here?” Harvey asks. “Two of us are psychologists and all of us have intimate experience with mental illness,” deadpans John, “it’s a miracle your relapse even got this far.”) Interestingly, while he goes along with it out of desperation and despair Two-Face is the more lucid and reasonable in this arc - Harvey is in control for most of it, slips first and drags his alter down with him, and the theft is his idea. This role reversal horrifies them both. Once they’re detained, Harvey theorizes it means they’ve reached an equilibrium of moral potential. Now he isn’t ‘the good one’ and Two-Face isn’t ‘the bad one’. They’re just two deeply messed up people free to do whatever they choose. That autonomy, and trusting themselves with it, is terrifying, but they agree it’s worth it and infinitely better than giving themselves up to chance. They subsequently stop coin flipping for good and throw the scarred one into Gotham Bay.
Eddie’s arc is being repeatedly smashed in the face with humble pie and then learning to accept hugs.
Harvey, Two-Face and Selina are the only ex-rogues to know Batman’s secret identity, and the Batfamily’s identities by association. Harvey’s known for many years, and just told Two-Face recently when between Two-Face’s internal growth and their support system he could take the gamble that he wouldn’t or at least couldn’t use the information wickedly. The resultant shared experience of constant, painful and/or hilarious dramatic irony brings the three closer. Eddie specifically knows the Signal’s secret identity. He tells no one, but is on friendly terms with him.
Waylon and Harvey are ‘I blacked out and next thing I knew my body had gone on a murderous rampage’ besties. Harvey is the best at getting through to him in his crocodilian mental state. In return, remember that relapse Harvey has? Waylon is the one who ends the museum fight by restraining him with a hug, his stony expression melting into empathetic sorrow as Harvey’s pleading rant that he needs the coin dissolves into hopeless sobs. Harvey can sew well - an entire wardrobe of half ‘n’ half clothes doesn’t make itself - and adjusts Waylon’s clothes to fit him and makes his homeless friends new clothes.
Victor and Pam are close friends. We see the history of this friendship and how it influenced their lives unfold through flashbacks. In the present of the episode, the group and Bruce are fighting for the the building and activation of the IRR, design finally perfected, that authorities fear will be weaponized maliciously. First they were just two jaded misanthropes stuck together in Arkham. (“Humans are the worst,” mutters Pam. Next to her, Victor’s frown deepens. “I emphatically relate to your sentiment.”) Then they bonded over their shared heartache, and helped each other rediscover their empathy and humanity. (Victor slumps miserably in the cafeteria, his words more a soliloquy than addressed to the metahuman poking at her food on the opposite bench. “As sharp as the sting of a loved one’s death is, the limbo my wife must be preserved in sometimes seems worse. So close, yet so far. Alive, but cut off from any kind of life she might have with me or choose for herself. A hollow existence of imprisonment, loneliness, darkness and cold, when she has the capacity to outshine the sun.” Pam doesn’t appear to be listening. Her eyes are trained on Harley’s exchange with the Joker across the room, as she’s manipulated into doubting herself and returning to him. Then suddenly she speaks: “I… relate to your sentiment.” Her voice breaks. When Victor realizes she has romantic love for Harley, he urges her to “Go to her. Harley may or may not reciprocate your feelings, but what she most needs right now is a friend.”) Later he’s delighted to hear the women get together. They really became a duo once Victor got into environmentalism. After a new low point in his villain career with Nora’s location left unknown in his lair’s destruction, he fled to self-imposed exile in the North Pole. At least he could be in peace with the pure, eternal beauty of the ice and snow, untainted by the greed and callousness of… what was wrong with the ice? Why were the ice sheets so small? They shouldn’t have been cracking nearly this rapidly at this time of year! He earned his PhD in cryogenics, he knows ice, the North Pole should not look like this! These were the most majestic sights he’d ever seen, he’d dreamed of showing Nora them. This would not do. He stormed back into Arkham. (“Dr Pamela Isley! I request your assistance! I have dramatically underestimated the severity of the global warming crisis. Your expertise is botany, but you have a thorough knowledge of climate science, do you not?”) Though surprised he could be invested in something besides Nora, Pam was pleased to have an ally and downright gleeful to have someone who will sit through her intricate presentations on climate change’s causes and effects. Victor’s ‘zap the ice caps back to their right size’ plan impressed her, but she pointed out it would never get off the ground. It’d be next to impossible to acquire such a large amount of resources. And even if he didn’t get caught before it was assembled, everyone would assume it was a superweapon and it would be shot down. It really was a shame how his criminality undermined his noble cause and stripped him of trustworthiness and effectiveness - what? Stop looking at her like that! Soon they both go straight explicitly to aid their environmental agendas. The episode ends with the IRR beginning construction and the rogues having a celebratory dinner. Victor thanks Pam for supporting him through this. She thanks him for showing her friendship when she didn’t think she was capable of it and it’s clear the feeling’s mutual. “A toast,” he proposes, Nora smiling at him in pride, “to humans not being the worst.” Pam laughs, getting a comparable look from Harley. “Now that’s a sentiment I emphatically agree with.”
Victor, Pam, Waylon and Oswald are the ‘I was outcast and by, and fundamentally isolated from, the rest of humankind due to physiological characteristics and believed all humans were inherently and inescapably bad, therefore lashed out in anger unable to accept that I could be loved’ gang.
The ex-rogues invent the game ‘It’s Called Commitment, Dammit!’ They take turns recounting the most embarrassing, absurd, or difficult experience they’ve had or knowledge they’ve learned purely for the sake of their villainous ‘gimmick’, concluding with the titular exclamation to rationalize their actions. The funniest, most compelling story wins. There are other games with this system, ‘Coolest Batman Fight’, ‘Most Humiliating Defeat By Batkid’, etc.. These stories a running gag, often heard in part with no context.
The flashback episode “Welcome Back, Dr Quinzel” shows us paralleled sequences of Harley’s three first days at Arkham Asylum: as a newbie doctor trying to appear undaunted by the asylum’s version of normal; a patient lost to herself laughing madly, attacking the guards and graphically swearing she’ll avenge her and “Mistah J”’s arrests; and reformed veteran doctor truly in her element and respected by patients and staff alike. In the first she befriends her mentor and guide Dr Joan Leland, who closes the section with a warm, encouraging “Welcome to Arkham, Dr Quinzel”. In the second Joan is put in charge of her treatment and (not that Harley registers it in her insanity) destroyed to see her like this, solemnly saying the title phrase to her when Harley is restrained. In the third they cathartically reunite as equals and hug. Harley thanks Joan for never giving up on her, and Joan returns that she has herself to thank more than anyone for getting her life back. Harley also becomes a similarly kind and supportive mentor to an overwhelmed new therapist.
A Gotham City Sirens girls’ night out episode. Set when they’re criminals, Pam hates all humans except these two and Harley is still dating the Joker, to explore their relationships at that stage of their lives and Harley’s attitudes to her abuse while it was ongoing. The three women have each had a bad week. Selina got arrested, which, like, never happens, to her embarrassment. Pam was unable to stop the oldest trees in Gotham being cut down and is keen to plant new trees and fertilize them with the men responsible’s corpses. And Harley lost a fight with Batman that left her ribs “a little banged up”, so it hurts to laugh. She casually blames herself for losing and getting the Bat’s attention and the incident is why she wants a night away from the Joker. (“You know how he gets when Batman beats him! He’s been all…” “Homicidally furious?” asks Pam. “Terrifyingly obsessive?” deadpans Selina. “Huffy!” is what Harley comes up with. The others exchange a worried look.) The best friends only see one way to blow off their steam, a Sirens tradition: joint crime spree! At the start Pam asks Harley to lay off on the explosives for tonight because she’s extra conscious of carbon emissions and Harley, despite loving explosions, agrees, a sign of their friendship. Most of the episode is antivillainous hijinks, like museum and clothes’ store heists and attacking a cop they catch threatening to shoot a black boy. Selina does her best to prevent casualties of innocents and not in self-defence. The group conflict is Harley refusing to accept she’s being abused, no matter what evidence and arguments the others present. This plot thread builds up to the climax - their demolition of the construction site on top of the felled ancient grove. After an episode of deflection from and downplaying of the topic of the Joker and her own emotions, Harley splinters at their needling and vehemently denies she’s an abuse victim, simultaneously brutally, skilfully taking out a squad of security guards. “How stupid and pathetic do you think I am? I’ve studied abusive relationships, for God’s sake! If I was bein’ abused, I’d know and I’d fight. You see this? *knocks out a guard* I’m a fighter! I’m an adult, I’m tough and intelligent and capable, and in case you forget, a motherfucking badass! I thought you saw that. That’s why I love you, and these girls’ nights! I get to be, all of me, and trusted. Respected. But apparently, you think you know me and my life better than I do!” Pam protests that her situation is the Joker’s fault, not hers, but Harley can’t hear it. She whips around to reveal she’s crying. “Is it so hard to believe someone could love me?” Pam inhales sharply, stung. “Is it so hard to believe someone could love you without it hurting?” she asks gently. Harley trembles, clenches her hammer in a death grip and screws her eyes shut. She impetuously decides to bring the building site down her way, both to prove her power to her friends and push them away in a projection of her self-hatred. Her way is throwing all her many explosives at a central support pillar and shooting the most potent one to detonate it. Big boom. Several people die; and Pam’s vines burn as thick black smoke pours into the sky, Selina and Pam respectively watching in horror. Harley grins desperately against the flames. Pam declares girls’ night over and storms away. Selina offers to let Harley stay with her, but Harley laments that she almost killed her and insists she’d just be trouble, then snaps, “Just leave! That’s what you do best, right? You doesn’t have to pretend you’re something better for me of all people.” Selina flinches. “Got me there.” Alone, Harley begins to chuckle. It grows to shrieks of maniacal laughter as she clutches her chest and crumples to her knees, gradually combined with wheezing, coughing and sobbing, visibly forcing herself to keep smiling. Her agonized hyperventilation calming down replaces the credits music. The last sounds we hear are her ringtone and a faint, shaky “Mistah J? Can you c-come pick me up, please?”
I don’t think the show should have many legacy villains who reuse an older villain’s gimmick. However, I do have an episode in mind for a second Scarecrow. This Scarecrow is a former abused henchman of John far cleverer and more ambitious than his boss credited him for. He’s tweaked his fear toxin recipe to be the most potent yet (and work on Pam and Harley) and got upgraded gear. He is targeting John specifically, and hunts down his friends to cause him pain. John is incredibly guilty, which every attack worsens, because the citizens and his friends’ suffering is the direct result of his evil actions. He invented the base toxin, he himself even pushed a low-level henchman to supervillainy! But his rampant remorse paralyzes him, too afraid of making things worse; of course, Batman gets trapped or otherwise delayed somehow by the Scarecrow’s overarching plan and it falls to him with his total immunity to fear toxin to save the day. The final nail in the coffin is Harley getting gassed. Her eyes widen and she backs into the wall, shaking her head and mumbling, “No” repeatedly. She tries to act defiant, unresponsive to John’s efforts to ground her, and protests against whatever threat she’s seeing, but her tone is pleading. He reaches toward her. She instantly flinches away and falls to the floor in a trembling, hyperventilating ball. “Okay, okay! J-j-just go easy on me this time…” It’s obvious who she thinks she’s talking to. John is aghast. He quickly sets into cool, orderly, murderous rage. Oswald had figured out the Scarecrow’s hideout and was going to send it to Batman (and the non-indisposed vigilantes) right when he got gassed. John does so for him, but proceeds to take body armour, a gas mask just in case and a gun in preparation to drive there himself. The Scarecrow floods his lair with fear gas upon detecting him. He moves through it, implacable, unwavering, and corners and terrifies the terrorist. “I’m going to make you wish Batman found you first.” He proceeds to beat the crap out of his imitator using his trademark underhanded, manipulative tactics (e.g. he steals the Scarecrow’s weapons after he runs out of bullets). During the fight the Scarecrow unmasks him, but he seems mildly inconvenienced at worst. At last Scarecrow II is helpless. John sees his petrified eyes and severe flinching away from his abuser, even shot exactly like Harley’s, reminding him how horrible it is to both feel that and cause it in someone, and throws the scythe aside in horror and disgust. After handing his successor over to the Bats, he gives him a sincere, non-justifying apology, tells him that he understands his pain and from one Scarecrow to another, it isn’t worth it. His friends are furiously concerned. He downplays both the accomplishment and the situation’s seriousness, claiming the rush of adrenaline and hysterical strength stop him feeling a thing. “Oh, wait,” he says, still apparently calm, “it’s wearing off.” He faints into Edward’s arms. In the hospital, he’s given the revised fear toxin antidote just to be safe. He wakes up with Harley clutching his hand. She congratulates him and he downplays it again, but thinks twice. He reveals his resistance didn’t apply to the new strain in such large quantities - he was hallucinating the entire time since the mask came off. How could he keep going? His worst nightmare is losing his friends. The first people he’s cared about and have cared about him in most of his life, who “taught me there are things stronger than fear.” The more their screams rang in his ears, the sharper his focus and righteous drive became. That’s how he held back from killing again, because he wanted to prove the old him was dead. The Scarecrow II recovers in Arkham and reforms, though he never forgives John or joins the group to all their understanding.
Selina initially lacks faith in her and Bruce’s relationship. She was on her own for too long, hurt and disappointed him over and over, did everything she could to claw out her place in his family… it seems unbelievable that he could forgive and love her after all that. That she could be worthy of love. A part of her remains proud of the years of hard, painful work she did to build her emotional walls, and can’t accept it’s time to tear them down. In the same vein, she struggles to think of herself as a worthy mother to the Batfamily kids. The episode “Cat Among the Robins” has her join the Wayne siblings (minus Duke) on a special mission. Her relationships with all of them are explored, but most of all Jason. The stressed, troubled young man tries to stay professional, exaggerating his coldness and throwing himself into the mission as a distraction from a rough patch in his and Bruce’s relationship. Her and Jason’s insecurities are compared. Her afraid to be a mother, him afraid to be a son. She keeps wanting to talk to him, but doesn’t get the chance. The intro is a flashback to Catwoman minding a young Jason, freshly Robin, on a rooftop. She’s sitting, he stands. They’re quickly endeared to each other. He dramatically relates the night he met Batman, the audacity of his tyre theft impressive even in Selina’s book. (“You have a way with words, kitten. You could be a writer someday,” she says. Jason’s eyes are starry. “You think so? So does my English teacher! Well, she hasn’t actually said the writer part, but -” he whispers proudly in her ear - “I’m pretty sure I’m her favourite student.” Selina ruffles his hair, and her every word brings him closer to seemingly exploding with joy. “Why wouldn’t you be? I remember school at your age, my teachers would have killed for a kid like you. You’re gonna do great things when you’re bigger. Listen, when you’re rich and famous from your epic novels about a brave young hero vanquishing evil, don’t forget to dedicate one to me. For being your inspiration.” “Deal!” Jason offers her his hand and they shake.) The end has them alone on a rooftop again. Jason is preparing to jump off the edge - “I was right.” asks Selina softly. He falters. “What?” “You’re bigger and you’re doing great things.” He turns to face her and removes his helmet for the first time, face unmistakable yet a far cry from the blissful boy she used to babysit. He sighs and smiles weakly. “Well, I had good inspirations.” She talks him through his worries (literally what I just said about her relationship with Bruce but familial rather than romantic) and assures him. Their framing and positions are reserved from the flashback, him sitting and her standing. “Being hurt and lonely isn’t who you are, it’s what stops you being who you are. And Jason Todd,” she concludes crouched down to his level, taking his hand tenderly, “who you truly are, and will always be in the hearts of those who love you… is a massive nerd.” He bursts out laughing. “You laugh, but all your books are still in your room.” “I know,” says Jason, smiling fondly in remembrance of Bruce’s gesture. Then his expression is clouded with dawning realization. He scrambles to his feet. “Oh my God, I never finished 1984! I died halfway through! Can’t even remember what happens, now I’ve gotta reread the beginning, dammit…” Jason picks up his helmet and hurries to the edge again while Selina shakes her head in amusement, only for him to suddenly double back and hug her like the mother and son they are. He whispers, “Thank you.” She strokes his hair. “Anytime, kitten.” Yeah, she doesn’t need to worry about being good mother material.
Pam and Harley marry at some point, around the middle. The proposal episode, “Pamela and Harleen”, is set on their dating anniversary, the one that marks their relationship outlasting Harley and the Joker’s. Some previous anniversaries having been ruined by other supervillains, Bats and police and sheer circumstance, they’re eager to make this day perfect. Of course, life has other plans; but together they make the best of it. The ending is finally a picturesque, peaceful romantic moment as they watch the sunset over Robinson Park. Pam looks over to see Harley down on one knee, holding out a gold ring with a flower of rubies on it. She flushes and raises her hands to her mouth. Harley says, getting a little choked up, “I’ll be honest, I drafted and redrafted a big speech for this a dozen times. But in the end I gave up. As someone who’s made a living out of breaking down and clearly articulating even the strongest, deepest, purest, most layered feelings there are, I don’t have the words to say how much I love you. So I thought I’d just show you instead. Dr Pamela Isley, do you wanna marry me?” Pam puts on the ring and takes her hands. “Dr Harleen Quinzel…” She pulls her to her feet. “I really, really do.” They hug and Pam unconsciously causes growth spurts in plants all across Gotham. The wedding ceremony takes place in Pam’s personal botanical garden. They both wear clothes that reference their classic villain costumes: Pam a gorgeous, elaborate dress self-constructed out of foliage and flowers complete with a flower crown, Harley an alternating red and black suit with diamond embroidery that the Dent system made with pink and blue plaited pigtails. Ivy grows a bouquet in the moment and Selina, the chief bridesmaid/maid of honour of Harley, catches it offhand with her Catwoman reflexes. Bonus if Bruce is there with her. Extra bonus if Bruce is there as Batman, who the brides give a special “inbatation” as thanks for sparing and saving their lives and supporting their rehabilitations when they did not make it easy for him. Pam selects Victor to be her best man and he squeals with delight. His heartfelt speech makes Nora (pre-official reconciliation) warm up to him a little and she compliments it and his new friendships near the end at the party. He offers her a dance “for old time’s sake”. She hesitates, then takes his hand and smiles. “Not just for that.”
The episode right after the Harlivy proposal has them telling everyone the news and starting wedding prep over about a week. It’s all very heartwarming and fluffy, but also, known to the audience but not to them, Harley keeps narrowly missing assassination attempts while they’re together (they do get a little suspicious, but are too caught up to dwell on it and, well, bad things happen a lot in Gotham). The mysterious would-be assassin seems to have a very deep, personal hatred for both of them, and just gets more motivated the more she sees how nice, happy and in love they are. It turns out that years ago her husband was thoughtlessly murdered in front of her, by not Harley but Pam. She was already distrustful of redeemed supervillains and thought they were let off easy. Seeing an engagement ring on Poison Ivy’s finger at their celebratory dinner in the cold open - seeing murderers and terrorists enjoying the very happiness, security and love they callously stole from her and countless other innocents - was the last straw. She wants to give Ivy the exact same grief and trauma she gave her. In the climax she gives up trying to be subtle and just corners them in an alley, sprays Pam with potent pesticide that briefly incapacitates her, cuffs her to a fire escape and aims a gun at Harley point blank. The couple sympathize and empathize with her upon hearing her story, which of course only makes her angrier - how dare they be so kind and understanding as if it makes up for everything they’ve done? Her grievance against them is so salient that they They manage to talk her down, Harley in particular with her psychological ability, arguing that: murder feels shitty, even if it’s someone you believe deserves to die; your first murder always feels extra shitty and you will miss the part of yourself that it takes afterward; the ‘right back at ya!’ style of revenge seems wonderfully just and cathartic, but the risk of recreating your trauma is your own PTSD resurfacing enhanced by guilt; and the penal system is still, you know, bad. Initially she holds fast and scoffs that they should have thought of all these great arguments against killing people before they became supervillains. But the more they sway her, the more her merciless facade cracks until she breaks. “No! You don’t get to ruin my life and then ‘save my soul’! You don’t get to be the heroes here! I’m the one in control!” “Yes, you are,” rasps Pam. “Our lives are completely in your hands. Harleen has a loaded gun pointed at her, and I don’t need to tell you how afraid I am. It’s up to you to pull that trigger… or not. It’s up to you to save yourself.” The widow looks between their pleading expressions, her hand shakes and the gun clatters to the ground. She promptly runs out of adrenaline and crashes, processing that she spent a whole week actively and wholeheartedly trying to kill another human being. Harley gives her the number of “the best therapist I know”, who turns out to be Joan Leland. She never forgives them, but can begrudgingly empathize with them somewhat and chooses to focus on her own life and wellbeing. Meanwhile, Harley and Pam are reminded that for all their progress, the consequences of their past choices will never fully leave them alone; what they can control is how they deal with them and how they behave going forward. They’ll probably never balance the scales, but any good they put into the world is worth it. In that dinner at the beginning, they toasted to “things being perfect”. At the end, sharing some much-needed alcohol, they toast to “being better”.
Kirk Langstrom, aka Man-Bat, is permanently cured by John in a Halloween episode. Since reforming, John finds Halloween the worst day of the year because it’s the anniversary of many of his crimes and all his biggest-scale ones. He spends each one holing himself up in his lab to work on some massive project, neglect self-care, wallow in guilt and self-flagellate for the surrounding week, the apparent lost cause Man-Bat being this year’s. However, the main focus character besides Kirk himself is Waylon. He’s trying to enjoy his present and how much he’s gained; namely, people who treat him like a normal person, allowing him to finally see the appeal of the holiday where people treating you like a horrible monster is meant to be fun, which was previously just his everyday and very solidly Not Fun. He’s taking the orphan and/or runaway kids he takes care of at the shelter trick-or-treating and he’ll be damned if they don’t have a good time. Naturally, Man-Bat escapes. This is a horror episode! Kirk’s backstory is that five years ago he created his vampire bat DNA serum to try to cure his recently acquired deafness (“I just wanted to hear my family’s voices again…”), became Man-Bat, accidentally killed his wife Francine, got captured by Batman and couldn’t be released from Arkham because all cures developed until now proved to be only temporary. His first transformation and Francine’s death is the cold open. His children, Aaron and Becky, were placed in foster care and have not yet found a forever home (the Gotham social system isn’t that great). They befriend Waylon’s kids while trick-or-treating early on. They just want their dad back, especially Aaron who’s older, thus remembers more of their parents, thus is more traumatized. Waylon then bonds with Kirk over losing and struggling to recover their own humanity; agonizing, traumatic chronic transformations into an animalistic monster; and feeling like their pain and fear is all they are and they can never be anything else or make up for the mistakes that haunt them and blood on their hands. Though Batman and John do their best, it’s ultimately Waylon who’s able to reach the man inside the beast. This is also when he admits that his kids are fully emotionally his kids now because Man-Bat and another, actually malicious supervillain who breaks out of Akrham endanger them. Until now he’s denied that because he couldn’t trust himself with a parent’s level of responsibility for such fragile, innocent people. But by acknowledging and articulating his understanding of parental love him he can remind Kirk of his own for his kids, which is the final push that inspires him to fight through his animal instincts so he can help save both of their children and a number of other Gothamites from the true villain’s evil science plot. Kirk regains custody of Aaron and Becky at the end. He’s a minor recurring character from then on. Also, to come back to John, helping Kirk makes him realize he should just let himself live and stop obsessing over even his worst mistakes and that excessive self-punishment isn’t actually constructive or good for anyone.
Pam and John, the world experts on evil mind-altering chemistry, help Batman and the Signal finally cure the Joker toxin afflicting Duke’s parents. This is a show about happy endings. Duke, Elaine and Doug’s is long overdue! By the end of the episode it’s implied they silently figure out the Signal, who they like, respect and have bonded with over science and traumatic experiences with and who John says he would have loved to teach, is Bruce Wayne’s ward Duke. It’s the ultimate vindication of Bruce’s no-kill rule and unwavering belief in humanity to have the villains he spared not simply no longer hurt, but actively improve lives and the state of the world, even perform direct acts of kindness toward him and his own family. Dark, gritty hellhole Gotham that never improves much is a fine setting and atmosphere in Batman’s earlier stages. But after all these years of heroes struggling and fighting and sacrificing for it, I want to show that dedication has tangibly meant something. That it wasn’t in vain. From the Batfamily themselves to the ex-rogues to the ordinary citizens, things really have got and will continue to get better. The promise that started it all, the one a boy made on his parents’ grave, can be kept. I think this might be the most optimistic Batman story I’ve ever seen. I like that. Batman is an inherently optimistic character, so why shouldn’t his stories match?
The Court of Owls could be major antagonists later on? Like, its intricate underground conspiracy and need to control Gotham contrasts the protagonists’ desire to lead simple lives and leave all that kind of business, and their personal harmful means of control, behind. Its deep connection to Gotham’s history both mirrors the irreversible impact the protagonists have had on that history and contrasts their capacity to brighten its future. The Owls are essentially a thematic foil to the ex-rogues. As the ex-rogues learn to let go, they keep tightening their grip. Where the found family consists of unique, eccentric individuals encouraged to be themselves in the best way possible, the Court is conformist and stifling and its bonds toxic and emotionally distant. And it would be funny for the protagonists to not be intimidated by them whatsoever. “Before we get into our… disagreement, I’d just like to commend you on the appropriateness of your gimmick, what with owls being the natural predators of bats. I’m biased in favour of birds, of course.” A cult leader stands up straighter and her glare at Oswald intensifies. “The Court does not have a gimmick,” she snarls. Oswald spreads his hands genially. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. All the best villains have one - ” A hurled knife grazing his ear and nicking a few hairs cuts him off. He says under his breath, “No need to be rude about it.” Later in this plot arc, he smoothly outsmarts, humiliates and incapacitates a number of the Court’s elite members in a fight. “You know something about owls? They’re associated with intelligence and wisdom. In truth, their brains are so well adapted to their specific hunting methods and evolutionary niche, they leave little room for the human definition of intelligence. Owls often fail to solve logic puzzles. They mostly can’t be trained. They make fatal mistakes at a higher rate than other birds of prey. In their preferred context they’re extremely competent, but outside it? Due to their narrow, short-sighted focus, they’re really quite stupid. I did say it was an appropriate gimmick.” “For the last time,” the leader snarls, stumbling toward him, “we are the all-knowing, all-powerful Court of Owls! We don’t have a -” He unceremoniously knocks her out and rolls his eyes. “Oh, get over yourselves.”
Bruce and Selina get engaged partway through the final season. The episode contains a flashback to a classic Batman/Catwoman escapade ending with her betrayal and abandonment of him to a trap, mocking him for trusting her. We glimpse her regret, he doesn’t. (“You’re better than this!” he cries. Guilt flashes across her face and she turns back slightly, but hardens again. “If you really believe that, you aren’t quite the world’s greatest detective.” Her formerly playful voice is heavy and joyless.) She proposes to him at the end of the episode. He confesses he was actually thinking of asking her soon. She murmurs, “Guess I’m still a step ahead of you.” He smiles and they kiss passionately. “Guess you are.” They marry - a small, private, individualized wedding prior to their fancy public wedding that’s just a formality - in the series grand finale. Harvey is Bruce’s best man and they have a tearful hug when he accepts the proposition. Harley, Pam, Nora, and Holly Robinson are Selina’s bridesmaids, her sister Maggie her chief bridesmaid. Her something borrowed is a silver necklace Nora wore at her wedding; something blue is a sapphire brooch Bruce bought her years ago after stopping her stealing it the previous night; something old is a frayed ribbon from her mother, the only thing of her she has left; something new is a flower Pam grows for her to wear in her hair. Her speech examines in-depth how he broke down her fear of intimacy, apathy toward the world and other people, need to control every aspect of her life and filter it through her barriers, and overall made her a better person ready to face the unknown with her hand in his. The world’s two weirdest, most messed-up found families are united! Oh, and an evil conspiracy may reach its culmination and nearly kill them all. But that’s not the point.
The series altogether ends in a montage of the group’s ordinary lives and the positive impacts they’ve had: Victor and Nora snuggled on the sofa watching a news broadcast of the IRR expanding the North Pole; Waylon being a welcomed, comfortable guest at the adoptive home of a kid he’d looked after on the streets, whose parents he had to learn to trust in the earlier episode they were adopted in; an evidently depressed teenager managing to stagger out of bed to take John’s new and improved antidepressants; Harley and Pam at a nature reserve in Kenya with Harley cooing over hyenas and Pam regrowing removed forest; and an extended family portrait in Wayne Manor with Selina, Talia and Harvey as well as the entire Batfamily and their pets, among plenty more scenes. Over it the protagonists give a narration that imparts advice for self-improvement and a hopeful message to not give up on yourself, “because you’ll be amazed by what you’re capable of. Up to and including being happy and loved.”
#gotham rogues#gotham villains#batman villains#batman rogues gallery#batman rogues#show ideas#show concept#oswald cobblepot#the penguin#harvey dent#two-face#selina kyle#catwoman#brucelina#victor fries#mr freeze#nora fries#victor x nora fries#waylon jones#killer croc#iceberg lounge#harleen quinzel#harley quinn#pamela isley#poison ivy#harlivy#edward nygma#the riddler#jonathon crane#the scarecrow
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Can you do a jealous John stones please 🥺🥺🖤
jealous stonesy coming right up! feel like john is the quick to get jealous type :) this gif does things to me
Black Tie Turbulence
John’s hand is both a constant and comforting presence on your lower back from the moment you both stepped out the car. He’s careful with his feet to not step on the bottom of your beautiful long dress that was matched in colour to that of his delicately placed pocket square.
“Aren’t you two a sight?”
John leads the turn so you can both face Kyle and Annie, also both dressed to the nines and offering each of you a glass of sparkling champagne. “The heels are already a killer,” you joke, making Annie giggle immediately. Heels were a must for almost all black ties, but more so when your boyfriend is an absolute giant.
It was a charity ball that a good few England and their players had been invited to, mostly in order to try and sweet talk the donors into giving more of their money than they originally would. You had gotten used to these events and liked to think you had actually gotten very good at sweetly chatting the vendors into emptying the metaphorical pockets. John wasn’t the world biggest fan of these events, but he knew they had to come hand in hand with the joy of doing what he loves each and every day. Plus, he gets to see you all dressed up. That’s good enough for him.
“I’m gonna go see if I can grab another drink.” You tell John, leaning up to press a chaste kiss into his jaw. He nods, eyes following you intently as you walk off with your heels clinking and dress swaying. “Earth to Stones.” Harry Kane waves, clicking his fingers to get the defenders attention. John shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “He’s fucking whipped, mate.” Kyle laughs heartily, eliciting similar laughter from Kane and his wife.
You stood up at the bar as the tuxedo glad bartender went off to collect your order for you when an older man appeared next to you. He too was looking to order a drink. “I hear the sambuca shots are exquisite this year.” You suggest with a teasing grin and a sparkle in your eyes, very successfully gathering the full attention of the silver fox who you had turned to face. He chuckles, eyes meeting yours as his tongue hits out to lick his lips. He was probably in his mid fifties, so you didn’t feel gross for a little bit of flirting to get some cash for a children’s charity.
“I’m just joking,” you note softly, “But the whiskey is fantastic.”
He nods, a smile overtaking his pink lips and stretching his face to fill a happy 60 years worth of laughter lines. He seemed truly sweet, not that you were at all interested. But he wasn’t sleezy, didn’t have a wedding ring in and looked a little younger than you knew he was. A little bit like Patrick Dempsey, actually. “A woman after my own heart.” He responds, flagging down the waiter for two whiskey’s.
As you got to talking, you learned he was a CEO. You had always been in awe of the kind of money that John had immediate access to in his bank account, what with you still paying off student loans and such until John took went behind your back and payed them off with an insistence that “his girl shouldn’t be worrying about anything ever.” But this man had even more money than that, you suspected. He just screamed out overpriced whiskey, fancy holidays, houses on every continent and boatloads of cars that you hadn’t even heard of. Yet, he seemed very sweet. You told him about some of the work you had gotten up to on a year abroad doing aid work during your second year of uni and he had been extremely curious about it, genuinely listening which shocked you significantly.
John would have said it was because the way that you spoke, completely captivatingly as you got lost in your own stories. You made people feel as though they were part of the adventure, drawing them in and leaving them hanging on every word. Most would claim that you were the only reason John still got invited to these black tie charity events because he certainly wasn’t so good at wooing older men out of their money.
“You’re definitely a whiskey lady, then.” You nod your head at the statement from the older man, a small laugh as you remove your hand from his arm that you had reached for when he made you ‘laugh’ with his last joke. “Mhm…well travelled, beautiful, very elegant and clearly incredibly loved.” You furrow your brows slightly his words, eyeing him carefully in search of their meaning. He leans in slightly, his eyes soft with a kind smile of his face. He nods his head behind you, “He’s been watching you since the moment I stepped up next to you.”
Your eyes land on John when you turn around, trying to look as though he wasn’t watching the interaction intently with those fiery blue eyes. You giggle to yourself with a soft sigh. “You made an old man feel incredibly young again,” he begins with genuine joy in his eyes. “You could change the world with that heart. It’s that reason and that reason only that I’ll be making such a hefty donation. None of this wining and dining, fancy ballroom party they’ve thrown. Passion,” he pauses, “Your kind of passion for better is what this is all about. But I reckon you best get back to the man who looks like he’s going to eat me alive.”
His words were touching and incredibly sweet, but the end was also true. You could hear your boyfriend’s footsteps approaching at a pace that might make you question his fifa rating from last year. You turn yourself back around to offer a thank you for the donation in your name, but all you see is that head of salt and pepper hair disappearing off into the crowd. John has suddenly remembered why he hates these things so much. You’re very clever at getting exactly what was needed from these men and you had no shame at all for flirting with them. If you had it, why not use it? You always said.
Despite knowing it meant nothing, it still sent John absolutely crazy and though you’d never admit it, that was one of the biggest reasons you did it. He used to bring you these things as his friend before you had started dating, which was very coincidentally where he burst and told you he loved you when you had asked what had irritated him so much afterwards.
His jealousy wasn’t something you exactly regarded as a demon, a little bit more of a treat.
Seeing him hot and bothered, angry flush to his cheeks with his jaw set firm and his muscles tense in irritation. It was beautifully hot.
“Flirting with older men again, eh?” He says sharply, his eyes burning a hole in you with the fire of their irritation. You shrug nonchalantly and take a sip of your drink. “Not a big deal,” you hum softly in response, watching carefully as anger flickers through his eyes. He turns his back to you with a scoff and a shake of his head, grumbling something under his breath.
“We’re going.” He states. You roll your eyes. “Oh don’t be like that, John.”
“Like what, eh?” He presses, still not turning to look at you.
“All angry and shit, it’s not a big dea-“
John isn’t having it. He whips around quickly, using his large body to press you back into the bar and takes the drink from your hand with ease when you still, enjoying a sip of it before he places it down on the bar, out of the way easily with those long arms. His hands come down to hold onto the dark mahogany surface of the bar top, trapping you with your back against it between his arms and your front against his chest. “Not a big deal?” He challenges, being careful to wedge his thigh in between your legs, he presses it up against you.
“It’s all for charity, John.”
Your face remains unchanged as you look into his eyes, darkened by lust with his pupils swallowing the blue of his iris.
“I don’t care,” he rumbles, his voice low, reverberating through your ear where he had loved his mouth to, his lips and hot breath tickling your neck with each word he speaks. You open your mouth to response, but John sees this and ceases the opportunity he has primed himself for so you can’t speak before he does. The words are lost on your tongue, dying before they ever have the chance to exist when he flexes the muscles of the thigh between your legs, tightening and pushing it up against you. He swallows your squeaky whimper with his mouth over yours.
“You’re mine.” He growls against your lips, continuing to make his presence between your legs known, very very known. He does pull back k slightly though, his darkened smirk flattering to a soft smile as he tilts his head to take in your rosy cheeks. “My sweet, kind girl.” He coos, lifting both his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the soft surface. You giggle at his words, blush deepening. “Seriously though, love,” he hums, “Hate the action, love the cause.”
That prompts another giggle, your head falling to rest on his chest gently. His hands strokes over your hair softly as his lips press down on the top of your head.
“Not mad?” You query, listening in to the soft and slow thud of his heart against your cheek. John has moved you effortlessly to the ballroom dance floor from the bar with only a few backwards steps, letting you lean in against his chest again. “Little bit, of course.” He replies.
John has his arms wrapped tightly around your body to keep you flush against him in every way, swaying back and forth in time with the music.
To any onlookers, it would appear as normal, mundane and incredibly sweet to see the relatively young couple enjoying each other so close on one of his few nights off. Truly, it was adorable when you factored out the reason for the proximity John keeps to your body.
“John?” You lilt, your voice a daring misfire between sweet and sultry. “Mhm?” He rumbles in response, keeping his cheek rested on the top of your head. “Your hard-on is pressing into my stomach.” He chuckles to himself, your words too quiet for anyone else anywhere near to eavesdrop on but enough to flush his cheeks ever so slightly.
“And I would much rather it was in some far more pleasurable places.”
John does not need those words explained to him, nor does he waste even a moment leading you hastily off towards the exit of the ballroom, sure that he could find somewhere in this venue suitable enough to let everybody hear just who you belong to.
#john stones#john stones x reader#john stones imagine#john stones imagines#england national team#england national team imagine#footie fics#football fics#footballer fics
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Not Enough - Part III.
Part 3
Warnings: Smut, threesome, john x ten x y/n, ass play, john x ten sex, fingering, dominance, cum (everywhere, ew), angst.
Words: 2.8k.
Read part 1 & part 2 first!
It’s been a week since you contemplated changing things in your relationship. As of now, nothing has changed. In fact, things have been sort of chaotic in the NCIT house this past week - you’ve been mostly hanging out with Jaehyun working on a coding assignment you were set over the summer. Ten went away for a couple of days - he said he just wanted to spend more time with his other close friends in the WayV house, who you were all pretty close with, but you suspect he also needed a bit of time away from you and Johnny. And Johnny - well, he’d been pretty distant too, and that hurt the most. You usually spend your rare moments of free time hanging out with him, snuggling on the sofa snacking on popcorn and crisps, having a low-key smoke and binging FRIENDS or comedy movies. This week, though, he hasn’t been here as much for you - in fact, you’ve probably spent more time with Jae, even Doyoung and possibly even Jaemin and the other freshers, than you have with Johnny or Ten.
“Ah, shit, watch it! Fucking arsehole” you yell as you walk directly into your boyfriend and drop your freshly-popped corn all over the floor. “The fuck, y/n, it was an accident. Chill.”
Johnny looks at you with genuine hurt, and you’re sort of embarrassed by the way you snapped. You didn’t want him to know that you weren’t feeling great about the whole ‘being abandoned for the whole week to stress about your work with Jae whilst your boyfriend and best friend fuck of and have fun’ situation.
You are pissed off. But you remember what you’re wearing - the little pair of shorts that perfectly hug your arse, and your hair tied back just how Johnny loves it. So you bend down to scramble and pick up the popcorn from the floor, ignoring Johnny but moving yourself in such a way that you’d gain his attention. Johnny watches you from his distance, and your plan begins to work - he feels himself getting hard at the sight of you bent over on the kitchen floor. Your silence was only turning him on more - he had no idea what to say, and felt at your mercy in that very moment - an unusual feeling for someone who was the dominant one in most scenarios. You stand back up after scraping together most of the popcorn. You stand slowly, looking Johnny up and down as you do, pausing to focus on how the veins in his arms have started to show - a tell-tale sign that he must be horny for you, despite not talking to you all week.
“So?” you ask him, a stubborn and demanding tone in your voice. You’re still pissed off - he literally hasn’t spoken to you about anything, leaving you in the dark about what the plan was and forcing you to seek comfort in Jae because he wasn’t there to hang out while you’d been stressed. Anyway, fuck all of that, you think to yourself. You firmly place the popcorn tub onto the countertop next to you and cock your head slightly, looking at Johnny’s face this time, but avoiding eye contact.
“So, are you going to like… tell me what’s going on?” you ask, frustrated now, trying to hide your emotional vulnerability by holding yourself in a powerful stance, sitting into your hip and casually leaning back into the countertop. You know you look fit, and Johnny knows it, too.
He sighs, now too turned on to even play his little game of piss y/n enough to get her to start the conversation first. He practically launches himself on you, keeping you pressed against the counter top and using his knee to hold your torso firmly in place. He locks his hand into yours and holds it firmly, too. You’re suddenly well and truly held down by John Suh, at his complete mercy and most-definitely not able to escape from his grasp.
“Y/n, Ten’s in my room literally right now. We’ve been waiting for you to break the silence because we thought you were the one mad with us. We thought you didn’t want to talk to us, so, we just sort of left you some space... for a bit...”. His voice is low, frustrated and tense.
Why was he being like this? He sounds genuinely annoyed, yet he’s acting like he wants to fuck me right here? And why’s he being so touchy?
“John, I’m literally pissed that you’ve been ignoring me. How are we never on the same page?”
Johnny doesn’t even reply, and you don’t really care. Stood over you, he’s one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever laid eyes on - you never fail to forget this. His hair is falling slightly over his eyes, textured and dark, complimenting the deep brown colour of his irises. His muscle tee reveals his broad shoulders, dressed in a bold, dark tattoo on one side. Nothing about Johnny Suh screams “innocence”. He is dark, intense, experienced, and always ready to show you a good time.
“What I mean, y/n, is that Ten’s waiting for me in my room”.
Oh.
“No problem, Johnny, I’ll be alright down here” you tell him, your voice tight, wondering whether this was an invitation to follow him, or a request for him to leave.
“No, y/n. Come on”. Johnny’s eyes are dark and serious, as they so often are when he’s turned on. You’re suddenly hyper aware that you’re in
a communal space - Jae could easily be slumped in the corner of the room, listening to the tension between you two as he so-often was - but you still don’t want to make nice with Johnny, so you shake him off you and somewhat stomp your way to his room, the man following you closely and quickly.
You barge open his door, pushing your weight onto it, and sitting in a leather armchair, leaning out of the window, is Ten. Shirtless. Oh shit, he’s hot.
“Oh, y/n, sorry fuck- hi” Ten sputters, reaching for something to cover himself up and eventually just wrapping his arms around his torso.
“Baby, you still up for trying this?” Johnny asks. Both you and Ten respond quietly and quickly with a tentative “yes”. .
“Hah, I was talking to Ten, but sure y/n I know you’re okay with it”, responds Johnny sassily, walking past you towards Ten. “Hot”, he assesses, looking at Ten just as he’d looked at you earlier.
Knowing that Johnny was checking him out like that turned Ten on, his cock growing harder under his lazy cargo pants. He hadn’t long been at the gym with Jae and Haechan, and the post work-out effect had left him slightly tired but, visually, incredibly attractive. His abs were tight and defined, even as he was leant over the window frame.
“Heard Ten was really good at fingering when he was dating that girl in first year. Not to make this weird or anything”.
Neither you nor Ten replies to this. So like, does Ten actually want this? I don’t get it, you think to yourself. And, honestly, you don’t know that Ten is only really doing this for Johnny. In the moment, he seems pretty damn into you. He stands tall, despite being the same height as you, shirtless with his hair slightly wet from just having showered, carrying the scent of sandalwood and sweet floral undertones. He moves towards you, and your heart pounds, your hands trembling slightly as you become hot and wet for him... Confidently, the man sits on the edge of the bed, a slightly playful and teasing smile spreading across his lips, and he pulls you by your arm so you end up falling next to him. You’re surprised by the sudden action, causing your heart to race faster.
“Mm, he’s right, you know, I’m pretty fucking good in bed” Ten teases you. You and Ten locked eyes as he placed his hand around your waist and pulled you close to him. He wasn’t sure about this, but he felt a compelling urge to kiss you. Ten feels Johnny place his hand on his thigh, squeezing gently, and it gives him the confidence he needs to lean in, chasing for your sweet, tender lips.
As Ten’s lips meet yours, you feel your heart murmuring, beating like it never has before. You take his kiss deep - although it feels sexual and intense, as opposed to passionate and loving. His tongue is greedy, chasing for yours and playing with your lips with gentle nips every so often. Johnny stands behind Ten, softly playing with his long hair, almost reassuring him. You feel Ten move his hands from your waist down to your thigh.
“Well, aren’t you two both such needy and horny, little things” Johnny teases, his voice dark and dominant. “Ten, honey, you know you don’t have to fuck her tonight, but she seems to want more than just a sweet kiss from you”.
Disappointing. Of course you didn’t expect that Ten would actually go all the way with you - although he has been with many girls in the past, you guess he just doesn’t actually enjoy that. But you can feel his fingers dancing up your thigh, altering their pressure as they skip across your crotch, brushing with gentle pressure over the crotch of your trousers and making their way to your opposite thigh. He is so careful and coordinated with his touch, different to Johnny - more thought-out, almost. Johnny bends down closer to Ten and kisses the back of his neck, whispering to him with a firm tone; “Ten, you need to be rough with her, she’s a dirty slut. You need to rip her panties off and fill her with your fingers and -”. You stop listening to Johnny’s instructions, becoming distracted by your growing wetness, pulsating as you feel the blood rush through your body. All you can feel is how Ten pushes you down onto your back, moving on top of you so he has full access to your delicate, glistening folds. As he does so, Johnny follows, teasing Ten’s upper thighs but not yet removing his cargo pants. “Ten, pleaasee” you beg, slightly moaning when you feel his slightly cold hands work at the button of your trousers, pulling them down awkwardly. You arch your back at the cold, slightly ticklish sensation. The arching is enough to grab Johnny’s attention - “damn, babygirl you’re sensitive tonight, does our slut need more attention?”. You whine in frustration, arching your back again to allow ten to remove your trousers all the way. As Ten does so, Johnny leans over him from behind and grabs his pants and pulls them down - he’s commando, so Johnny immediately grabs his hard, throbbing cock, releasing a moan from the man who is largely preoccupied with you, teasing your clit at a constant, steady pace. Johnny slowly pumps up and down Ten’s cock. “Listen, sweet baby, I want you to make y/n come all over us. I’m going to do to you what I want you to do to her - follow my lead, and you’ll make her come”. You heard that part - fuck, i just want to come, you think to yourself.
Johnny cocks his head. “Sound okay, babies?” he asks you both, receiving two half-confident moans in response. He’s definitely in charge of you both.
Johnny tightens his grip on Ten, prompting him to slip two fingers immediately inside of you, taking you deep without a second thought. It was intense, but so necessary. You respond with a sharp intake of breath, once again arching your back. When Johnny speeds up his movements around Ten’s pulsating member, Ten quickens his pace with you. He’s moving his fingers in and out of you at a rushed pace, desperate to bring you to orgasm. Ten was genuinely horny, enjoying playing with you and chasing your upcoming orgasm, and although he had some limits, this wasn’t beyond his boundaries. He was so incredibly attracted to you. Your little, desperate breaths quicken, becoming deeper and longer as Johnny tightens his grip further, slowing down on Ten’s cock, and Ten responds in the same manner. He begins to slowly, but deeply, insert his fingers inside of you, pushing deep and steadily against your G spot.
“She’s actually so beautiful” Ten mutters quietly and breathlessly. Johnny responds, once again quickening his pace on Ten’s cock, planting kisses along his shoulders. This encourages Ten to quicken his pace, using the “come here” motion to hit your g-spot successfully with every repetition he makes. “And she’s such a slut” Ten adds, as you now whine quietly, high-pitched moans leaving you every time he hits your g-spot. He places his lips on yours, swallowing your moans with his deep, warm kiss. His lips are sweet and slightly swollen, making them gentle and exciting enough to continue kissing him, despite how close you were to your oblivion, and how distracting Ten’s fingers were. Johnny finally releases Ten after edging him for way too long - but doesn’t let Ten come just yet. Ten takes this as his cue to focus purely on you, tipping you over the edge. You’re moaning deliriously as Ten slips in a third finger and, with his other hand, wraps around your ass, playing with your sensitive skin around the entrance. Ten’s very good at this - he presses a thumb against your ass, gently but with enough pressure to change the sensation deep inside of you. You feel your pussy tightening, grabbing onto Ten’s slender fingers as he continues desperately chasing your orgasm, waiting patiently for his own. But Johnny is becoming fed up of waiting, so he drops his own pants and presents his cock in front of your mouth. “Work for your orgasm. Be my cumslut” Johnny demands strictly. You take his cock as deep as you can, feeling your pussy tighten as Ten drives you closer to orgasm. You suck Johnny deep and hard, using your tongue how you know he likes it. The sight of Johnny’s cock, dripping and filling your mouth, drives Ten insane. He isn’t even being pleasured, but he, too, feels so close to his orgasm, dripping presum from his tip. You’re still panting and moaning into Johnny’s cock when you finally reach your orgasm. Ten reaches one hand from your ass to Johnny’s, again pressing his finger into Johnny enough to send him over the edge. He explodes into your mouth, causing you to gag and splutter as you immediately come over Ten’s fingers. Your eyes stream with tears as the intensity of your orgasm sweeps through your body, weakening you head-to-toe.
“Y/n, you’re not finished, baby” says Johnny, standing. “Y/n, suck Ten’s cock while I fuck him good”, he tells you. And you do exactly what he says. Johnny is so gentle with Ten - so tender and loving. You can see now, despite your mouth being stuffed with Ten’s dripping, pulsating cock, that the love between these two is different. It’s intense, it’s passionate, it’s inherently sexual but yet so nurturing and tender. What you have with Johnny is fun - but you know you were friends first, friends now, and will always be friends. But you also know that this might be the last time you fuck John Suh as your boyfriend, and you didn’t even actually end up fucking him. The thought saddens you, but it passes quickly as you continue to pleasure Ten whilst sat on your knees. It doesn’t take long before you release him, and he lets his come spill out over your swollen breasts. Just a few moments later, Johnny follows, adding his cum to the sticky mess dripping on you. Johnny leans over you to kiss Ten - and in this kiss, there is so much love. You realise that he has chosen Ten in his moment of vulnerability, not you. But lying there, barely awake and covered in their come, you don’t mind. Ten flashes you a sexy smile as he kisses your belly, covered in Johnny’s come. Johnny pleasures your nipples, cleaning them up with his swollen lips before leaning down to kiss you, and moving back to kiss Ten, forcing him to taste his own mess. “Okok”, you say quickly. “I’m going to wash up in the bathroom”.
Your back is aching, you’re covered in come, and your whole body is weak and trembling from the intensity of working so hard for these two men. And Johnny was right - Ten was very good in bed. But you expected nothing less of the man who is good at everything.
Within 15 minutes, the three of you were asleep in the bed together. And within a few hours, you woke up, noticed how Ten wrapped his leg over Johnny’s, and how Johnny held his arm out for you to lean into. Feeling disgusting and tired, your heart sort of aching, you decided to slip back into your own room. You know you have to leave.
Thanks for reading! I’m sorry I didn’t go into full angst detail about the end of the *situation*. There will be a short follow-up sequel, mostly just angst, that will deal with the end of the relationship, just so this story doesn’t end up with no proper resolution. I hope you enjoyed how the situation unfolded, but more importantly - I hope you enjoyed the smut. I’ll be releasing follow-ups set in the NCIT frat house in the future, so please follow and interact!
~tenskittens~
#nct 127#nct smut#wayv smut#johnny smut#ten smut#johnten#nct reader insert#nct frat#x reader#nct 127 angst#nct
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in this house we love and respect hss
horriblelittleman
TV and film
i-like-to-look-at-your-back
Just kiss already
ralttsss
Fu Hua Brainrot
warfreak
双子の影