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scudslut · 3 months

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Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #twd drabbles #fem!reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #norman reedus smut #y/n grimes #daryl x grimes reader #twd smut #daryl twd #twd fanfiction

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kennedybaby · 6 months

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HOW DID YOU GET THAT WAY?

YOU DON'T EVEN HIDE HOW YOU FEEL.

18+ / semi-rough sex, exes fucking, female! reader. that's all. i giggled while writing this.

Letting Jason into your apartment past midnight only meant one thing. It's arguing slash fucking. Sure, it's a bad combination, you're his ex— his favorite ex. At least, that's what he told you. Being a hopeless romantic with a pussy that longs for no one but your ex, you happily let him inside when he decides to come over after patrol.

Jason knows you love it. As much as he hates letting you get under his skin, he loves taking out his anger on you.

“Fuck you.” Funny.

He's been trying to get your shorts off while you blabbered about how Roy and you have been flirting back and forth. It’s dumb, he shouldn’t care that his ex and his best friend are flirting with each other. But he does. That’s why he’s here, holding you down to the couch with his jeans gathered around his ankles and his throbbing cock pressed against your dripping pussy. Besides, he knows you're bluffing— Jason knows you'd say anything to make him jealous. And God does he hates how much it works on him.

Jason had the tip of his cock rubbing furiously between your folds, coating them with your slick as he looked down at you. “You’re bullshitting me, [Name].” He huffed, cheeks flushed as his hands gripped onto your sides. “Am not.” You playfully said to him, poking your tongue out as you grind yourself against him. He lets out a deep groan, pushing your hips down as he shoots you a glare.

“Yes, you are.” He rolled his eyes, his thumb reached down to push the head of his cock into your pussy. His lips curled into a smirk when he heard a gasp leaving your lips, “You’re just saying that to make me jealous.” He mutters under his breath, burying himself deeper inside of you as his knees digs into your bed.

“No. Roy and I—”

“Shut up.” He puts his hand over your mouth, muffling down your protests as he easily buries himself deeper inside of you due to how wet you are. And to be honest, he'd hundred percent sure you were soaking your panties the second he went inside of your apartment. Your fingers curled around his shirt, “I hate youuuuuu. Shooo much." Your words slurred as your lips formed a small pout, your eyes flickers down to watch the way his cock stretches you, your lips spread around him as Jason pushes himself in and out of you.

“Just… don’t get why… you’re this mad over me flirting with Roy.” A long whine left your lips before you looked back up at him, the bed underneath your weight violently creaked as your nails dragged on his back. “Not my fault, I have needs.” You huffed, furrowing your brows as Jason let out a breathy chuckle when you put up a frown on your face.

“You have me.”

“You’re my ex.”

“And?”

He slammed his hips into you right before you got to say anything, a sheen layer of sweat coating your body as you threw your head back. “Just stop talking about him when I’m balls deep in you, it’s weird. Talk about me instead.” It feels nice, sort of satisfying to know you at least made him sort of jealous that it’s enough to get him to pins you down and fills up every crevices of your wet cunt.

“No fun.” You muttered under your breath, arms curling around his neck as you pulled him down for a kiss. His lips quickly capture yours, ignoring the way your teeth clash against his so long as he has your lips on his own. “Nah, just like it better when you're moaning about how big my dick is.” He flashed you a toothy grin, fingers gripping your waist as he slightly lift your hips to thrust deeper. The veins on his cock rubbing against your gummy walls, a small bump on your lower stomach shows up every time he pushes himself deeper.

“They’re not… big.” You pants in between words, head tilts back into your pillow. He bits his bottom lip back when he felt your pussy squeezes around him, sucking him in. Your eyes turning watery from the pleasure, lashes thick with tears as he clenched his teeth. “Yeah, right." Jason lets out a scoff, pulling back away from you for a split second as he turned your body over as your stomach lay flat on your couch, his hand pressed flat on your back before he forced you to keep your hips up.

His cock finds its way back buried inside of your sopping cunt, your ass pressed against his pelvis as he gripped your hips. His fingers leaving red marks on tour skin, “You better keep your ass up.” There’s a certain firmness in his voice, his eyes looking down at you when you tilts your head to the side to looked back at him. Jason leans down to lean his chin on your shoulder, his lips hovering your ear as he slowly rocks his hips into your again.

“Gotta remind my ex girlfriend who she belonged to again.”

whoever reading this, please send anything sexy about dc men or women... I AM DYING TO JUST RANT ABT THEM c: sorry for the blue balls ending!!!!

#jason todd smut #dc smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader smut

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aliceramblez · 6 months

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Dating The BroZone Brothers 🎤🎶

Tags: Gender-neutral reader, Fluff, Some Angst (mostly for Branch lol), Also Broppy isn't canon here, obviously. But I love them dearly so don't come at me!

Follow me @taruchinator for more structured content and/or feel free to leave a request here in asks. Enjoy!

John Dory

We all know this man is a bit self-centered, and that doesn't stop at your relationship.

He'll find any opportunity to show off for you— anything from singing, to dancing, to just his ‘incredible leadership skills that make him the perfect boyfriend!’

He also definitely introduced himself as a member of the old boy band BroZone, which you may or may not have heard of, which may or may not have left him flabbergasted.

Despite all his faults though, John Dory will do his best to be a good partner for you. It's what you deserve, after all!

Keeping you safe from wild creatures, making sure you're always happy because he loves your smile, and also being the overprotective boyfriend who'll square off against anyone who even dares to make you uncomfortable even if they're 10x his size.

Small detail, but he also loves the fact that Rhonda took a liking to you instantly.

“She knows how to pick the good ones,” he'd say with a wink.

Talks about his brothers CONSTANTLY, but always in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't care and that it's their fault the band broke up in the first place. He obviously really cares about them, though.

Some nights, he'll reflect and regret all the stuff he said and did to them, and wishes he could go back and make it right. You reassure him through most of it, trying to convince him that he was young and just didn't know any better.

He stares at you in awe and disbelief because how could ANYONE think that what he did was justifiable? Abandoning his younger siblings all because of his stupid ego and personal insecurities.

“I really don't deserve you...”

Give him some time he's just emotionally constipated.

Also you BET he's gonna show you off to his brothers once they're reunited, so just let him. He just wants the most important people in his life to meet.

You can also expect them to try and embarrass John Dory with stories from their childhood, so be ready to have a good laugh as your boyfriend plots for murder in the background.

Spruce/Bruce

Probably the one who's best equipped to be in a relationship out of everyone in the group.

He is a family man, after all.

Speaking of which, if you think him settling down in the movie and having kids of his own was cute, it really is! But that just indicates that he has a way with children.

If you have a child or younger sibling, expect them to get dotted and taken care of to DEATH by this man.

He may not have been the sensitive one of the group, but was definitely the most reliable of the eldest, so he's got experience handling little trouble makers that come his way.

He still opens a cantina in Vacay Island, which is where you two met for the first time, and so you help run it occasionally whenever you have the chance. And even though you don't go there 24/7, all the regulars just think that you're the co-owner since you're dating Bruce.

You're the one who finds out that he's actually ‘Spruce’, the member of old boy band BroZone. You just happened to stumble upon an old record he kept in his room, and after confronting him about it, he reluctantly confirms your suspicions.

It was hard to recognize him since he was much older now and his body had definitely... grown over the years.

Bruce doesn't like preaching about those days, since he's quite embarrassed of the ‘immature ladies man’ he used to be back then.

But he won't deprive you of them either, since he'll happily share any stories on his misadventures with his brothers, funny backstage incidents, etc.

He misses them dearly and wishes they're all doing okay.

Two words: Hopeless. Romantic.

He's ‘The Heart Throb’ for a reason.

Roses, chocolates, dances— he can do it all!

Bruce will always make time in his busy schedule to spend time with you, taking you on dates to your favorite spots around the island, getting you meaningful gifts, and just overall expressing his love for you in any way he can.

He loves singing to you because it always serenades you and it puts a smile on his face.

People always joke that he's going to propose to you out of the blue one of these days, which always leaves him a flustered mess, but he never denies either.

“What can I say? I might be waiting for the perfect opportunity...”

Clay

Poor baby doesn't know what he's doing but he's trying, okay?

The two of you meet in the abandoned Bergen Golf Course, where you and Viva welcome him with open arms, and everything pretty much plays as in the movie, except that he really likes spending time with you and ONLY you, which he doesn't quite understand?

You're the one to ask him out cause otherwise you'd be playing this back and forth forever. He says yes.

He's never had a partner before, so he's justifiably worried that he'll mess up in some way, or that you'll end up finding him too boring after a while.

This becomes much more apparent after a particular bad night, in which after mumbling incoherently because of a nightmare, you find out that he has brothers and used to be in a boy band.

He doesn't open up about it at first, so you give him some space and reassure him that you'll be there when he needs you. Just give him some time and he'll tell you eventually.

He talks about how he could never be himself, since he was always expected to be ‘The Fun One’, and now he's basically tried to become the complete opposite in hopes of gaining some control over his life.

But he also worries that others will think he's too dull, and that he just isn't interesting enough to be around. Especially you.

You immediately take his face in your hands and look him in the eyes.

“I fell in love with Clay. Not ‘The Fun Troll from BroZone’ Clay. Also, you're fun in your own way!”

He basically falls for you all over again after hearing this.

After that, he becomes slightly less uptight and allows himself to enjoy the little things. You sometimes actually catch him dancing when he thinks no one's looking and you find it's the most adorable thing in the world, even after he realizes he's not alone and wants the earth to swallow him whole.

“Don't mind me, I'mma just crawl in a hole for a while...”

“No, no- Babe, it was amazing! I loved it! Pleaseeee show me more!”

Overall, he's a pretty good boyfriend all things considered.

He's incredibly overprotective of you, and will always give you advice and tools he thinks will be helpful if you're thinking of venturing outside of the Golf Course.

He asks Viva for dating advice CONSTANTLY and she DOES NOT let him live it down. Of course she has good ideas, though.

He'll pretty much do anything for you, even if it means going out of his comfort zone.

Floyd

Another great candidate for being in a good relationship.

Need I explain myself with this man?

His entire personality revolves around being caring and understanding, so he's definitely always on the lookout for anything that makes you sad or uncomfortable and will fix it ASAP.

Floyd is the kind of person who will ask for consent with pretty much anything you do— from holding your hand, to kissing you, to giving you a hug; he will ALWAYS make sure that you're okay with it even if you've given him the green light in the past.

He's not huge on PDA due to his somewhat shy nature, but if you are, he'll try his best to keep up with you.

This doesn't mean he dislikes physical affection, in fact it's his love language. He'll go out of his way to try and sneak in as many hugs as possible throughout the day and maybe a kiss or two if you'll allow it, which of course you do.

You also try your best to get involved in his own interests, because that's only fair after everything he does for you.

It isn't until one day that he sings for you that you compliment him and he nonchalantly comments that he used to be in a band when he was a teenager.

Cue the reveal of him having four brothers and you begging him to tell you all about them.

Which he does, but you can't help but notice the melancholic expression on his face, so you immediately stop him and apologize for being pushy on the matter and that he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to talk about.

He only looks at you with a small smile and shakes his head.

“No, I'm glad you asked. I haven't talked about them in years, so I like remembering the good times, even if they're in the past now.”

So he'll go on and on about them, one by one, and go into excruciating detail about what kind of person they are and what he loves about them. He's especially fond of his little brother Branch, based on everything he tells you.

When he gets kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer, you immediately go to Branch for help.

Once you're reunited, you two basically run to each other and hug with tears streaming down your eyes.

“Did they hurt you?!”

“No, I'm okay! Did they hurt you?!”

“Who cares?”

“I do!”

Floyd is then incredibly happy to introduce you to his brothers, who begin to affectionately tease him about getting himself a partner and you happily step in to protect him from any unwanted bullying.

You also tell him that you like the new hairdo, which only causes him to giggle and kiss your forehead affectionately.

Honestly you guys probably have the healthiest relationship out of the whole group.

Branch

I was really debating whether to include him or not since there's many Branch Reader Inserts out there, but I don't wanna leave my baby out so here we are!

You have a classic childhood friends to lovers situation with him, since you've known him ever since he was a member of BroZone, only being about a year older than him.

You'd help him practice for his concerts and would always give him pep talks whenever he felt worried that he'd ruin the show.

You're basically his number one fan— never missing a concert even if it meant dragging your parents with you so they'd let you get in.

The moment the group disbands and Branch is left all alone, you're there for him and wait alongside him for his brothers to return, reassuring him that ‘siblings would never break a promise’.

Cue his whole childhood trauma and him losing his colors, but it's only because of you that he doesn't completely isolate himself from society. He still builds his bunker though, since he's pretty much scarred for life thanks to the Bergens.

Just like with Clay, you're the one who takes initiative and asks him out, and he's just left gaping like a fish because why would you want someone like HIM?

After reuniting with John Dory, he's also dotting you about how big you've gotten and treats you like a baby, which actually irks Branch much more than it does to him.

He makes sure to remind his brothers that you both are grown adults, thank you very much.

Once the band gets back together, you kinda become a manager of some kind and help them in organizing their performances. Branch is eternally grateful and thanks you for staying by his side all these years.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls spruce #trolls floyd #trolls x reader #trolls reader inserts #branch x reader #john dory x reader #clay x reader #spruce x reader #floyd x reader #fanfic

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hannieehaee · 7 months

Text

18 + / mdi

content: boyfriend!mingyu & bf'sbestfriend!wonwoo, smut, afab reader, cucking (idk if this is the right term honestly), penetrative sex, mentions of oral, pov switches to wonwoo's pov like three paragraphs in, this is mostly wonwoo x reader ngl, etc.

part 2

wc: 3343

a/n: this is a continuation to mingyu's part of this reaction !!

masterlist

you'd known wonwoo for a good while now. being mingyu's girlfriend for over a year, you'd grown used to the company of his roommate, who was usually around whenever you'd go visit mingyu at their shared apartment.

it was easy to get along with wonwoo. he was an easy-going guy and also easy on the eyes, and just overall likable. you liked to think that the feeling was mutual, wanting to get along well with mingyu's best friend. you'd occasionally hang out one on one whenever you'd incidentally arrive to mingyu's apartment early, only to be let in by wonwoo. he was a gentleman, so he'd entertain you during mingyu's absence, telling you stories about the boy and at some points discussing shared interests with you.

what you didnt know was that wonwoo did like you. more than you wouldve hoped, actually.

wonwoo had known you for as long as mingyu, having been there when the two of you first met. the three of you had started off as simple acquaintances, up until mingyu decided he just had to have you, thus making you his. wonwoo had been happy for his friend, knowing mingyu to be a hopeless romantic at heart. yes, he admits, he mightve been attracted to you when you first met, but he quickly got over it upon finding out his best friend had a crush on you, even encouraging him to ask you out. having you in his immediate life proved to be interesting. it turned out that you two had a lot in common, with your personalities even aligning perfectly. that mightve explained why he was mingyu's best friend and you his best friend's girlfriend. mingyu clearly had a type.

over time, as wonwoo got to know you better, his long-gone crush seemed to want to make a comeback. what had previously been just physical attraction had turned into something more upon getting to know you. nothing ever happened to trigger his feelings, but there was only so much of your constant proximity that he could handle before his feelings resurfaced. which is where he now found himself. crushing on his best friend's pretty girlfriend, forced to occasionally join in on your dates as the perpetual third wheel.

despite any of his unreasonable emotions, he knew the feeling was not mutual, and more than that, he would never do that to his best friend. so, he did what any reasonable person would do and shoved his feelings deep within him, internally slapping himself any time his head went places it shouldn't. but that could only last so long.

it was a regular day. wonwoo had gone to the company, done his usual idol business and come back, now awaiting mingyu's arrival. except wonwoo was met with your presence instead. wonwoo had been expecting mingyu, remembering that he had told the boy about a movie they should watch together as soon as they had some extra down time. that day being today, now that they were finally back from promotions in japan and could go back to their regular schedules. he opened the door after hearing a few knocks, assuming mingyu mightve misplaced his keys again. except he was not met with his six foot tall friend upon opening the door, but instead you. it had been a while since he'd seen you. hell, it had probably been a while since mingyu had seen you. theyd just been so busy lately. he let you in, muttering a quick 'hello', avoiding eye contact a bit and stepping aside to allow you in. before he could close the door back up, you stopped him.

"oh, wait. gyu's coming up. he got us food for the movie!"

oh. had mingyu asked you to join?

his face mustve told on him, since you spoke up again almost immediately.

"is it okay im here? i can go, i know you guys are tired, i-"

the last thing he wanted you to feel was unwelcome. his stupid crush shouldnt get in the way of what was now a friendship between the two of you.

"no! stay, please. do you guys want privacy? we just came back, you must wa-"

this time you interrupted him. "no, not at all! stay, please. i love hanging out with you, nonu, you know that."

calling him by a cute nickname was not helping this for wonwoo, nor was the pretty smile you were throwing him. but he'd have to sit through an entire movie night like this, he realized.

the following thirty or so minutes went the way you'd imagine. mingyu had arrived soon after, with way too much food for three people and prepared the perfect setting for an enjoyable night between the three. wonwoo could tell his friend was beaming at the thought of finally spending a relaxing night with his two favorite people. this made him feel guilty, but he had to admit, he felt the same giddyness at the concept. in logical fashion, you and mingyu sat next to each other, slightly cuddled up while wonwoo sat on the smaller couch right next to the two of you. the three of you watched the movie for a little while, only ever speaking up every once in a while to comment on the movie. things went like this until mingyu suddenly spoke up, clapping his hands as if he suddenly remembered something.

"won! i almost forgot!", he paused the movie, sitting up from leaning against you, "i told y/n id show her the pictures we took in japan, come here!", his friend seemed so overly excited at the idea, almost vibrating as be waited for wonwoo to come sit next to him.

wonwoo made the mistake of moving his eyes a little to the left while looking at his friend, only to catch your expectant gaze as you also waited for him to close the distance. but it was enough to get him to get up and take a close seat next to mingyu, making the tall man the only separation between you and him.

mingyu had already pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery and stopping every few seconds to explain where the picture was, who took it and why they had edited it the way they did. he explained every minor detail while you looked at him, full attention on him. wonwoo liked that about you. it was something you did when speaking to him too. you'd always show full interest, even sharing a passion for photography and editing as he did. there had been occasions in which wonwoo himself had shown you his photography, only to be always met with praise and genuine curiosity at his skill.

they both explained the pictures, with mingyu holding the phone at an angle where both you and wonwoo could see the screen perfectly. mingyu had full control of the phone, not thinking much as he stopped by every single picture and made a few comments, allowing space each time for wonwoo's own commentary and your praise of their skills. it was a heartwarming moment for wonwoo, really. until it turned into a moment that warmed something else in him.

mingyu, in his overexcited state, was clearly not thinking much of it as he swiped picture after picture, not realizing that if he scrolled too far, he'd end up where he was now.

it was a picture of you. a very pretty picture, if wonwoo had anything to say about it. you were laying in what he could only assume to be mingyu's bed, shirt off and very very cute sheer panties covering your lower half. your face wasnt in it, only your lips. but your body was practically on full display. wonwoo had to commend you for your artistic eye. that picture could cause any man to swim across the pacific ocean just to see the contents of it in the flesh. or at least thats how wonwoo felt in that moment. time felt frozen as he stared at the image. silence had filled the room as none of you reacted. until mingyu finally unfroze, locking his phone and throwing it on the table, cursing loudly at his mistake. but the damage had been done.

wonwoo felt ashamed at his current state. he couldnt look up, only staring down at his lap as he thought of the image that was now imprinted in mind. why did he have to see that? his crush on you was already getting out of hand. there was no way be could ever look you in the eye again. but his brain, once more, betrayed him. he looked up slowly, instantly meeting your gaze. you looked as flustered as he felt, eyes widened and cheeks flushed. fuck. your face reminded him of one he had seem before. a few months back when he'd accidentally bumped into you after what he couldve only assumed to be a night well-spent with his best friend, same flushed cheeks and widened eyes, except this time you were missing the disheveled look you had carried that time.

you and wonwoo seemed unable to break eye contact, with both your gazes becoming heavier by the second. what had felt to wonwoo like minutes of agony staring into your eyes were only a few seconds to mingyu, who immediately spoke up after having thrown his phone on the table.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry, i-" he had turned his body towards you, emphasizing how badly he felt at the position he put you under, but your eyes hadnt left wonwoo's, nor had his left yours.

you interrupted him, only breaking eye contact with wonwoo for a few seconds. "it's okay, gyu," your eyes now facing wonwoo again, "right, nonu?", your voice was sultry, only tightening up his pants even more than the initial shock of the image had.

"y-yeah."

mingyu seemed to catch on quickly after that, almost as if he'd been expecting this. he turned to his friend, still not 100% certain, "wonwoo. are you sure?"

there had been nothing wonwoo had ever been more sure about it. he broke eye contact with you for the first time in the past minute and responded, "yes."

"there's gonna be rules, okay?"

the three of you were now in mingyu's (and practically your) room, still fully clothed but all on the bed, already completely out of breath from the mere thought of what was about to happen. wonwoo felt like an animal. he felt himself have to put physical effort into holding back from jumping you. the way you'd been looking at him for the past while had him going insane, knowing now that the feeling was mutual.

"what are the rules?", wonwoo's eyes were still on you.

"any-" mingyu was about to speak when you interrupted him, still holding onto wonwoo's full attention.

"anything goes, except no marks and you have to be willing to share me. gyu's a bit possessive, right baby?", you stated matter-of-factly, almost in a rehearsed manner.

"wait. you've discussed this before?"

mingyu neared you, beginning to undress you from behind, giving wonwoo the perfect view of your clothing disappearing. 'we have. you're not exactly subtle, hyung.'

what? had you two known about his crush on you this whole time? he was so sure he'd kept it at bay almost expertly. had he just been embarrassing himself this whole time?

"its okay, nonu. we've discussed this. we're okay with it if you are. right, gyu?", you looked over your shoulder at the man who had now removed your shirt and shorts, leaving you in panties and a bra, much to wonwoo's dismay.

"i- are you sure? what does this mean? you-"

"hyung, dont over think it. you want her, dont you? you're my best friend, im willing to share."

well, what kind of fool would argue with that logic?

wonwoo decided to take advantage of the opportunity while it was there, approaching you as mingyu stepped aside, undressing his own self as he watched you and wonwoo.

wonwoo was entirely unsure of himself, not knowing how or where to begin. luckily for him, you seemed to take pity on him, grabbing his arms and placing them on your waist, pulling him closer to you.

"you dont have to be nervous. i want you too," you smiled sweetly at him, lifting his chin so he would look at you.

the proximity made him heat up, almost forgetting his friend, who had now sat down on the bed, perfect angle to watch him and you.

you leaned up slowly, lightly placing your lips on wonwoo's in a sweet peck. wonwoo sighed against your lips at this, letting his shoulders fall from their rigid posture and leaning against you, opening his lips a bit. you took advantage of this, meekly slipping your tongue inside his mouth as he tightened his hands around your waist, allowing his own tongue to play with yours.

kissing you was something he had imagined before; never too vividly out of respect for his best friend, but it was something he had wanted to do, never thinking he'd actually get to.

you and him kissed softly for a while, until you seemed to grow frustrated at the light kisses and began to incite him for more. your kissing became rougher, nibbling at his lower lip and sucking at his tongue, rendering him lightheaded. he moaned against your mouth, beginning to match your pase. he moaned even louder the moment he felt your hands guide his own to your breasts, which were now bare. when had you taken your bra off ..? it didn't matter, really. now he could feel the pebbles on your chest against his palms, pinching at them as you mewled softly into bis mouth. all that could be heard was the smacking of your mouths, along with the soft breaths you kept taking against each other, utterly pleased at the feeling of the softness of the other's lips.

until mingyu interrupted.

suddenly soft moaning could be heard from beside them. wonwoo reluctantly pulled away from you, looking to the side, only to find his best friend with his eyes closed, head thrown back as he had his hand under his boxers, clearly getting off at the sounds of the two of you. you didnt stop kissing wonwoo in the meantime, insistent on licking and biting softly against his neck. the softness of your touches was making wonwoo go insane. he was no longer himself, but more of a shell of what used to be, wanting to give you all control of his pleasure. which he did.

he allowed you to undress him slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his chest, kissing at him every time you uncovered a new bit of skin. you bit and licked at his nipples, making wonwoo discover a sensitive spot he didnt even know about.

he enjoyed your attentiveness, but felt a small tug in the back of his mind at the thought of your boyfriend sitting nearby, simply watching.

"gyu, baby," you finally said after having laid wonwoo down on the bed, sitting on top of him while looking to the side at your boyfriend, "how do you wanna do this?"

wonwoo simply sat there, afraid that if he said anything he'd break the spell. he was willing to take whatever you gave him. he was already addicted to the sight of your bare body on top of him, somehow beating the picture he had seen just twenty minutes ago.

"do whatever you want, baby. have your fun n then ill eat his cum out of you n fill you with mine, sound good?", he slurred, seemingly rubbing at himself at a snail pace in order to savor the sight in front of him.

in any other instance, wonwoo wouldnt have understood why mingyu was getting off at the sight of his best friend and his girlfriend fucking, but it was you. wonwoo would also give anything to see you in the throes of passion from a third person perspective, so he felt no judgement for his friend as he practically tuned him out.

"you heard him, nonu. how do you want me?", you asked sweetly, caressing his skin softly while stopping to rub at his nipples every once in a while.

wonwoo was fucked. he felt the ability to speak leave him completely. he was rendered completely useless, a doll for you to play with however you wanted. but his sight right now was one he wanted to commit to memory, so mustering all his willpower, he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, pressing you closer against him.

"like this, baby. please," that earned a whine from gyu, who was still self-inflicting the most painful pleasure imaginable by edging himself at the sight of you.

he humphed at wonwoo, "no! get a different pet name. shes my baby."

wonwoo chuckled at this, but nodded over at his friend. "fine. like this, princess. yeah?"

you nodded at wonwoo, quickly adjusting yourself so you could easily slip him inside you, but only after being interrupted by mingyu again, reminding you to slip on a condom, "because you were only his to fuck raw."

"gyu, baby. like this? have a good angle? need me to move?"

"no, baby. you're perfect. now bounce on him for me, yeah? wanna see my pretty girl feel good," all his words were slurred, going on almost ten minutes of watching yours and wonwoo's foreplay.

"'kay baby. are you ready, nonu? wanna feel me?", you leaned down to kiss at him again, seemingly loving the feeling of your lips connecting as much as wonwoo did.

he nodded, felling you up as be awaited the upcoming feeling of your warmth wrapping around him.

your descent drove wonwoo insane. he doesnt think he's ever moaned that loudly before, nor does he think he's ever seen a prettier sight than your blissed out face as you felt him fill you up. the contrast of your movements right now compared to your soft touches earlier was laughable. it seemed like something had possessed you, making you bounce and grind on wonwoo at an animalistic pace, moaning incessantly at the feeling of his cock filling you up.

wonwoo was different from you, as his reaction was just pure bliss from the feeling of you, humping upwards with a lack of rhythm; just animalistic instinct to get himself as deep inside you as possible.

mingyu could be heard moaning from the background. you'd occasionally disconnect your eyes from wonwoo's form to make eyes at your boyfriend, giving him even more material for jacking off.

it went on like this until you began to near your end, which is when wonwoo believes he went truly insane. you began to grind at an angle that would bring gratification to your clit, practically crying on his cock. your hands went up to play with your nipples, stimulating yourself as much as possible. wonwoo wanted nothing more than to make you meet your end, grabbing harsher onto your hips and guiding your movements. he leaned up to kiss and suck at your tits, making you throw your head back and quicken your movements even more. you were in heaven and so was he. mingyu seemed to be too, as when wonwoo peeked a look at him he was practically crosseyed at the sight of you, arched back whining on his friend's cock.

your ends found you almost simultaneously. mingyu had been first, finally allowing himself to reach his high after edging himself for so long. soon followed wonwoo, spilling into the condom, causing you to cum at the sight of his pleasure. it took a bit for all of you to catch your breaths, staying silent for a bit until wonwoo broke the silence.

"shit. please tell me this isnt a one time thing."

you and gyu giggled at each other. wonwoo hoped that was a good sign.

a/n: lol lmk if u want a cont. with gyu's part

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l0vergirls · 3 months

Text

munchausen syndrome by proxy.

romantic yan!batfam <3

as requested by anon:

the symptoms start showing slowly in the form of fatigue, common headaches, and dizziness. as time passed, it got worse and worse, which left you bedridden.

it was tough to get used to, but you held onto the hope that it'll be gone in a couple weeks, just as bruce said.

during this time, they coddled you to no end.

dick often visited you with a hot meal in his hands, which he'd insisted on feeding to you even though you've proven you could do it yourself.

no use straining yourself with extra work, he said.

you could accept that he was a caretaker at heart, but it felt a bit much when he would run his fingers through your hair, whispering words of consolation.

tim was usually the one giving you your doses, as well as bruce. there was no reason to suspect him, after all, with his skittish grin and slightly awkward demeanor. sometimes, he would bring a handheld console with him to ease your boredom. you favored him slightly more than the others because of that.

jason visited you the least and when he would, he had an unreadable expression written all over his face. he wasn't bad company; conversations with him were always fluid and enjoyable, which was why you wondered why he seldom visited you when you were stuck in that room. you didn't hold it against him— you couldn't, for some reason.

damian liked visiting you, though if you didn't know him as well as you did, you couldn't exactly tell. you've learned to look at the most miniscule of his habits to read him. the most obvious one would be how his shoulders would slightly relax around you.

bruce was by your side most often, believe it or not. whether it be giving you your medicine, or just to spend the night sleeping on the chair whilst he holds you hand. he constantly reassured you that you'd be better in no time; not that you had any other choice but to believe him.

when the couple weeks are up, you've felt an improvement. that is until you suddenly feel like fainting after a shower.

you didn't— but the boys would rather not take a risk, so why not just stay here a bit longer? that way, they can monitor your vitals, and give you just what you need!

you're free to roam around the mansion, just don't push yourself too hard lest you want to find yourself back in that room.

and if you suddenly feel suffocated, so hopeless in that place, fearing that you may never get better? fret not, someone's always there to wipe your tears, hold you tenderly in his arms, and kiss away your sorrows.

do i think that jason would feel very guilty basically having a hand in taking away your autonomy? yes . will i elaborate on this? let me get back to you on that .......

#yandere x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #— dc.#— yan writes.

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roosterr · 9 months

Text

love you from afar

note: this has been in my drafts since MARCH. can't decide whether i like it or not lol. @wetsocksinbed angsty fic is up next >:)

pairing: john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader

wc: 9.5k (oops)

summary: you receive a series of mysterious gifts from a mysterious admirer.

warnings: longing, yearning, pining, best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love, heavy on the idiots part, tooth-rotting fluff

ao3

over the last two weeks, you’ve noticed some odd things happening around you; a good kind of odd, the kind that left you thoroughly confused, but was heartwarming nonetheless.

after going back and forth with it in your mind, you've come to the conclusion that you have a secret admirer. it was odd, and a little hard to believe, but it was the only option that made any sense to you. in all honesty, it was probably just your hopeless-romantic heart clouding your mind with optimism, but one can dream.

the first incident was harmless enough, a small inconspicuous gesture that was so subtle, in fact, that you barely paid it any notice at first.

it was the dead of night, and you’d just returned from a particularly gruelling solo mission, uninjured but bone tired and desperate to collapse into your bed and finally sleep. before you could fall into the blankets, however, you noticed through the darkness of your room something strange.

resting neatly on your pillow, illuminated by the dim light of your phone screen, was a single bar of your favourite chocolate. you didn’t remember buying it, and certainly didn’t remember leaving it there, but it was exactly the kind of pick-me-up you needed after the day you’d had. at the time, you’d chalked it up to you simply being forgetful, devoured the chocolate in record time, and promptly knocked out.

over breakfast the next morning, you'd recounted to the others the mysterious appearing chocolate as a funny anecdote; the five of you had laughed about your terrible memory, and you'd moved on. but now you weren’t on the verge of blacking out, you couldn’t help but think of it as weird.

for the life of you, you couldn’t remember buying the chocolate bar, and it didn’t make sense that you would leave it on your pillow like that. what did make sense, however bizarre it may seem, was someone else leaving it for you – but you had no idea who would do that for you, or why. either way, you didn't imagine that anything else would come from it.

the next incident happened three days later.

during training that afternoon, you were in the middle of running laps around base, when you’d – stupidly – tripped over a ditch in the ground and rolled your ankle pretty badly. it hurt too much to put any weight on it, so you’d sat there in shame with no choice but to wait for a few minutes until gaz and soap caught up to you.

as they rounded the corner, you'd reluctantly waved them over with a grimace at how your ankle was throbbing in your boot. johnny was immediately crouching by your side, abandoning the idea of training to focus completely on you.

"christ, what happened?" he fussed, worry creasing his face and making your own heat up under the attention.

"i tripped…" you mumbled, dragging a hand over your embarrassed expression. it was bad enough that you'd made such a simple mistake, but now the man you were crushing on, hard, was lifting your leg so gently and untying your laces and you were certain you were moments away from cardiac arrest.

he'd ushered gaz away to continue his run, telling him he'd accompany you to the infirmary with a tone that left no room for argument. not that gaz would've, the knowing look he sent you as he jogged away told you he knew exactly what you were thinking.

after making sure nothing was broken, soap had pulled you to stand with an arm around your waist, supporting you with his solid frame when you stumbled.

"sure y'don't want me to carry you?" he'd teased, earning a laugh from you as you wobbled in his arms. as you chuckled though, you noticed a hint of what seemed like sincerity in his eyes. you'd felt your face burning again at the implication that he really would carry you, if that's what you'd wanted, and quickly started dragging him along with you in an attempt to hide your flustered state.

he'd kept his arm around your waist the entire way to the medical wing, only releasing you when you were sat in front of the doctor, which did absolutely nothing to calm your racing heart. to your dismay, he couldn't stay with you – you were still in the middle of training, after all.

"you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" he'd asked as he left, and the concern in his eyes almost finished you off. you were almost glad he didn't stick around to see the effect he had on you.

luckily, after a quick inspection, the doctor concluded that you only had a minor sprain, and you'd be good as new in a couple of weeks. she'd sent you on your way with an ice pack, a crutch, and strict instructions to stay off your feet.

you would've gone back outside to watch the boys (mainly soap) finish the rest of their exercises, but honestly, the embarrassment of what happened had you wanting to curl up with a pillow over your face for the rest of the day; so that's exactly what you found yourself doing.

you must've drifted off to sleep at some point, because once you finally sat up again, the sun had painted the horizon a bright orange, and your stomach had begun to rumble.

as you went to walk out into the hall, you heard the crinkle of plastic under your boot, pausing you mid‐step. when you looked down, you were stunned to find a bundle of three beautiful white flowers – gardenias, you'd found out after googling them later. an incredibly warm feeling blossomed in your chest, and despite your best efforts, your eyes had welled up with tears. you couldn't even think of the last time someone bought you flowers. there was no note attached, meaning you had no way of knowing who had left them for you, which sent your mind back to the chocolate bar from a few days ago.

so i'm not going crazy, you'd thought to yourself, someone really did leave it for me. but still, you had no clue who this mystery gift-giver could be.

you'd carefully picked them up, being mindful of your ankle, and turned back around to put them in your room. there wasn't really anywhere to put them, so you just set them on the ledge of your windowsill and made a mental note to find a vase for them at some point.

when you eventually made it to the mess hall, there were very few people left, leaving the room unusually calm. ghost was sat by himself at one of the far tables, so you hobbled over on your crutch to sit with him while you ate.

you sat down opposite him, and he'd looked up, gave you a subtle nod, and gone back to eating with his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. the two of you ate like that for a while, sitting quietly in each others presence.

ghost had been the first to break the silence, asking you, "how's the ankle?" as he pulled his balaclava back down to cover his mouth.

"just sprained," you'd replied, looking up to meet his eyes. another beat of silence fell over you, before you continued, "did you see who left me those flowers?" you'd asked him; it was worth a shot, you figured not much gets past ghost. to your dismay, he simply shook his head, standing and mumbling a goodbye as he left.

you were only more confused now. if ghost didn't know who it was – and, granted, you wouldn't actually be able to tell if he was lying, but you trusted him – then who would know? the next day, you'd asked the other boys, but they'd all said the same thing, even the captain. so you were left with nothing to do but wonder who on earth could be leaving you these gifts.

after that, it was another four days until your secret admirer struck again.

you'd been in and out of briefings and debriefings and meetings all day, your mind was beginning to numb with all the information that had been unloaded. you were tired; not quite the same exhaustion you'd felt coming back from your mission earlier in the week, though, this time you were at the end of your rope mentally. there hadn't been a moments peace since you got out of bed, and once that excruciatingly long day was over and you were relaxing in the common room, you'd had no energy to actually engage with your friends.

you were nestled into one end of the sofa with gaz next to you, ghost on his other side, and soap in the armchair with a small book in his hands. they were all chatting, with you occasionally saying a thing or two, but you were mostly just zoned out with their conversation serving as white noise in the background.

occasionally, you'd look up and catch soap already watching you, but he'd quickly turn his gaze back down to his book. his attention caused you to be equal parts flustered and confused. if you'd been any more awake, you probably would've asked him if something was wrong, but you were already having trouble keeping your head up as it was.

once you felt your eyes slip closed one too many times, you'd decided it was time to turn in for the night. with a quick 'goodnight' to the others, you'd made a beeline straight for your room – but it was more of a hobble, since your ankle still required you to walk with a crutch.

that night you'd slept like a baby, waking up early the next morning feeling well rested, and thankfully your ankle had even started to feel better. though you still couldn't join the team's training sessions, you had other responsibilities to fulfil, so unfortinately you did have to get up at some point.

you'd just finished lacing up your boots when you noticed it; a single sheet of paper on the ground by your door, folded once in half so you can't see what's written on it. from where it lays, you conclude that whoever left it must've slipped it through the gap under your door while you slept. you'd picked it up and sat back on the edge of your bed to unfold it, your curiosity certainly piqued. it make you wonder, though, what reason someone could have for leaving you a note.

except, when you'd lifted the page it wasn't a note at all. on the slightly wrinkled paper were a number of beautiful pencil drawings – drawings of you. the surprise of seeing your own face staring back at you nearly stopped your poor heart.

the jagged edge on one side of the page indicated that it must have been torn out of a sketchbook, which had interested you even more. you couldn't think of anyone you knew who could draw, let alone who would have a sketchbook dedicated to it.

whoever made this, it was clear that art was a passion of theirs – these drawings were really good. your hair, your eyes, the subtle expression on your features, every line was expertly crafted. it was incredibly flattering, and admittedly boosted your ego a little with how good those sketches made you look.

as you sat there smiling to yourself, you'd glanced up to the three flowers blooming on your nightstand. like the gardenias, the drawings were from your secret admirer, there was no other explanation; and an admirer they were, it was abundantly clear from these sketches that this person had an appreciation for you, if only from afar.

the drawings had been your favourite so far, but unfortunately, it was almost a week until your admirer made another move.

it had been long enough for you to start walking properly on your ankle again, and so you'd been slowly easing back into your workout routine, starting with your morning run. you'd taken it slow with lots of breaks to rest your muscles, but still decided to call it early, which had you back at your locker earlier than usual. as you were rounding the corner to the locker room, you'd heard the door slam closed and a set of heavy footsteps racing down the corridor. you'd only caught a glimpse of whoever it was as they dashed around the other corner, quick enough that you weren't able to see who it was.

you'd been concerned at first, whoever it was had been in a terrible rush, but you'd quickly shaken it off – it wasn't uncommon for people to be rushing around base, especially first thing in the morning. with your own meeting to get to, you'd decided not to dwell on the strange almost-encounter, and carried on with grabbing your towel from the bench and showering.

as you opened the door to your locker to fetch your clean clothes, sitting front and centre on top of them was something you definitely hadn't left there; a bag of your favourite hard candy, unopened, in the space that had been empty not half an hour before. how did these get here? you'd asked yourself, and you stood there confused for a moment or two before the answer came to you.

of course, your secret admirer. you'd felt the familiar giddy excitement bubble up in your chest at the revelation. it had been a while since the page of drawings had been slipped under your door, and it pained you how the gardenias had begun to wilt already. honestly, you'd been slightly worried that they'd given up, or something had happened to them. thankfully though, they seemed to be doing just fine, and you were too with such a pleasant start to your day.

it wasn't until you were sat in the meeting room, munching on your sweets and waiting for the others to arrive, that you realised.

the person, the one who'd been in a hurry as you got back from your run, it was them; that person was your secret admirer. they had to be, you'd concluded, the sweets weren't in your locker when you'd been in there earlier, and you did cut your run short, so they probably hadn't expected you to return so soon – that's why they'd been in such a rush to get away.

the revelation had butterflies swarming in your stomach, the idea of being so close to finding out who it was that held such fond affection for you sparking giddy excitement in you; but at the same time, it filled you with a sickly apprehension.

the problem was that you already knew who you wanted it to be – you had from the beginning – and you worried that uncovering their identity would only lead to disappointment; because there was no possible way john mactavish could feel the same way you felt about him.

soap had always been nothing short of kind and respectful of you, never stepping over the unspoken line if being your closest friend. sometimes, you can fool yourself into thinking he treats you differently – when he checks in on you after missions, when he always saves you a seat next to him in meetings, when he'd practically carried you to the infirmary, all of it ignited a warm feeling in your chest. but then you think about it a little more, and remember that all those nice gestures, that's just who he is. he wormed his way into the heart of ghost, for fucks sake, it was almost impossible not to like him.

you'd been so lost in thought, that gaz sitting in the seat next to you had startled you back to reality.

"gonna share with the class?" he'd asked with a teasing smirk, gesturing to the sweets sitting on the table in front of you. he'd reached out to grab one, but you'd pushed his hand away and snatched the bag to your chest.

"no way," you'd said with a playful glare, sending a quick smile to soap who'd taken the seat on your other side, "these are from my secret admirer, get your own."

gaz paused. "...your fucking what?" he had an incredulous look on his face, and you'd forgotten that you never actually told the others about it. "soap, you hearin' this?"

soap looked almost panicked when you'd turned to him, but he didn't have time to respond, as that was the moment price had walked through the door and announced the start of the meeting.

"i'll explain after," you whispered to gaz, who gave you a pointed look that said 'you better' and turned his attention back to price. you'd stifled a chuckle and looked back at soap, expecting him to have a similar expression, but he was already facing forward. you'd frowned at this; you and johnny would always whisper back and forth during meetings – a way to keep eachother entertained, as well as an excuse for you to sit close to him – but today his face had an odd air of seriousness to it. oh well, you'd thought somewhat downtrodden, just have to talk to him after.

and that's what led you to the present, where you'd been explaining to the boys everything that has happened over the last two weeks. well, you were mostly telling soap and gaz, ghost honestly didn't seem that interested, though the captain did have a rather amused expression as he listened.

"so you have no idea who it could be?" gaz had turned sideways in his chair, leaning forward slightly with his eyebrows raised. he looked to be in disbelief, and you were almost inclined to feel the same.

"nope, not a clue." you sighed, turning from gaz to look at the others around the table. price was standing with his arms crossed, giving you a similar disbelieving look, and ghost had that familiar unreadable look in his eyes.

"someone went in your room while you were gone?" ghost's low voice caught your attention, "bit creepy, innit," he grumbled, his gaze darting between you and somewhere next to you. he did have a point, you supposed, it was a bit weird.

"well… maybe a little, yeah…" you trailed off. perhaps he had a point, but you found yourself not wanting to believe it; all of the mystery person's gestures had been so sweet, thoughtful, it was hard to think they had any ill intentions.

that, and your heart has already made up its mind about who it should be.

"don't be like that, lt., whoever it is meant well, didn't they?" gaz chuckled, the grin evident in his voice.

"christ…" ghost mutters, shaking his head in exasperation.

"it may be a slight invasion of privacy…" you begin; and it's true, but after the first incident, it didn't appear that anyone had been inside your room again. "but it was only once. and it was just a chocolate bar, it's harmless. besides, are you really telling me you've never been in anyone's room when they're not there?" you continued, earning only an eye roll from ghost.

"and you haven't tried to figure out who it is?" price asks from his position standing opposite you, across the table.

"no, i wouldn't even know where to start, it could be anyone…" you try to think of anyone to suspect, but your optimistic mind only draws one name; the object of your affection, who happened to be sitting directly next to you. unfortunately, the two of you were strictly friends – no matter how much you longed for something more.

"i think you should investigate," gaz's smile makes you think for a moment that he knows something that you don't, but you brush it off. he didn't even know about your admirer until you told him, how could he? it wasn't like they were leaving any hints. "whoever it is obviously really likes you."

"you think?" you unwrap another sweet and pop it into your mouth as you consider his words.

"yeah! and, we could even help you investigate," gaz gives the others a hopeful, if slightly suspicious, smirk.

"speak for yourself…" ghost leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest, the picture of uninterested, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"could be a good bonding exercise," price had the same entertained tone in his voice as he looked between the four of you, "any thoughts, soap?"

you hadn't realised until the captain brought attention to him, but soap had been uncharacteristically quiet during all this; since before the meeting, actually. he hadn't said a word to you yet today, which had you a little worried. usually the two of you couldn't shut up when you were together. you turn to look at him, and find him looking wide-eyed back at price.

"i don't– ah, maybe…" he stuttered, looking between price and the table rather than meeting your concerned eyes, "...they're just shy? don't want to be known yet?"

"oh, y'think, mate?" gaz fully laughed at that, sharing a look with both ghost and price that held something you couldn't understand. now you're thoroughly confused.

"well, maybe he's right," uncertainty laced your voice, their reactions throwing you for a loop. "if they wanted to be known, they probably would've shown themselves by now, right?" you turn to soap, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else – but he meets your gaze with a tiny smile.

"so you're not going to investigate?" you look back at gaz, who has that incredulous look back on his face, and from the corner of your eye you see price and ghost both shake their heads.

"they can show themselves when they're ready, i don't want to push them." your mind was made up; if your secret admirer wanted to reveal their identity, then they would, it's as simple as that.

"but–" gaz tries to argue, but price quickly interrupts him.

"right, enough, you lot, clear out, you've all got work to be getting on with." he gestures for you all to stand, and after grabbing your sweets, you follow the others out of the room.

for the rest of the day, you endured endless amounts of teasing from gaz, and he even got some of the people from other units in on it. it had your face burning when they cooed over how romantic your 'mystery lover' was. you could only pray that they got over it soon, in the back of your mind you were slightly worried the attention might scare off your admirer, and you certainly didn't want that. but although you told the others you'd wait for them to reveal themselves in their own time, you'd be lying if you said you weren't practically dying to know who it was.

✹✹✹

"hey sarge," a voice sounds from beside you, drowning out the din of the mess hall around you. turning your head, you see it's a private; one you don't really know, but you give her a polite smile anyway. "i've got a message for you." she continues, producing a folded piece of paper from behind her back.

"a message? who from?" you ask, taking the paper from her when she holds it out to you.

she giggles, giving you a sly smile, "a secret someone," and with a suspicious wink, she turned around and left.

with the note in your hand, you look to gaz and soap, a baffled expression on your face. "does she mean my… admirer?" they both shrug at you, sharing an equally perplexed look between themselves.

"go on then," gaz says, "what does it say?"

you unfold it, and scan the neat handwriting of the message. soap and gaz watch as you read it, their curiosity overwhelmingly present in the way they leaned forward to try and see.

your face falls, and you frown. the note was signed – 'your secret admirer' – but you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your heart.

"what's up? what does it say?" gaz notices the change in your expression, standing up from his chair and leaning fully over the table to read the note himself. you hand it to him, your good mood from this morning completely soured.

"apparently it is from my admirer," you begin, not bothering to hide the dejection in your voice, "telling me to meet them outside in five minutes."

the pair don't say anything, too stunned to form words as they continue to frown at the words in front of them. this can't be right, it just can't be, your mind laments, if johnny is sitting here, that that means he's not–

"seriously? just like that?" gaz interrupts your thoughts. he sounded annoyed underneath his shock, and you find yourself feeling the same way. "sorry, but i find that hard to believe – they didn't even leave a card with the flowers, did they? it just doesn't feel right to me."

you look to soap, who has yet to say anything on the matter. he doesn't meet your eyes, boring holes into the table with the anger in his gaze. your frown only deepens at his expression, the look on his face so unlike him it almost has you forgetting all about the cause.

"who knows," you sigh, plucking the note back out of gaz's hand. "this probably won't take long, i'll–"

"wait, you're going?" soap interjects, the frown on his face set much deeper than your own. his sudden question caught you off guard, paired with his irritated expression, and you almost thought he was angry with you.

"yeah, i mean, what's the harm, right? might as well just get it over with." you stand as you respond, folding the note back up. even if you were setting yourself up for disappointment, you still wanted to at least hear this person out; even if it wasn't him.

"what's the harm?" johnny scoffs – at you or at very idea of all this you aren't sure – and joins you in standing up, throwing his arms out with such annoyance, it catches you off guard. he gestures sharply at the paper in your hand, "this– whoever that is, it's pure shite! you can't see that?"

now it's you who scoffs at him; where is this hostility coming from? yesterday he seemed as though he couldn't care less when you were telling everyone about it, and now all of a sudden, he thinks he has all the answers?

"how would you know?" you shove the note into your pocket, your earlier sadness quickly morphing into annoyance.

as you move to walk away, johnny looks like he wants to say something more, to stop you, and you hesitate. you want him to; whoever your admirer was, whoever that note was from, none of it meant a thing if it wasn't him. all you wanted was for him to look at you the same way you look at him. gaz is looking at him too, subtly gesturing for him to do something, but he doesn't speak, doesn't meet your eyes as your face drops again.

"exactly, you don't. i'll be back in a minute." you huff, and without another word from either of them, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the mess hall.

it's safe to say your mood had swiftly and effectively been ruined. the disillusionment of realising that your secret admirer was someone other than johnny was one thing, but his sudden attitude towards you was the final straw. your face was decidedly sour as you trudge through the corridors, still with a slight limp which was only fuelling your annoyance for how your day was going.

the cool air of the courtyard makes your skin bristle as you push the door open, taking a moment to survey the area as you stand in the entryway. to the left stands a lone figure, and you recognise his face, but – like the private from earlier, who you assume is his friend – you can't remember ever having spoken to him. with a deep sigh, you blink away bitterness in your expression and make your way over to him.

his grin is wide as he shamelessly checks you out while you approach, and you instinctually cross your arms over your chest. you come to a stop in front of him, frowning in a look that you hope screams uninterested.

"hey, sarge." he has an overly confident air to him as he speaks, shuffling closer under your scrutinising stare. of course he wouldn't take the hint.

"so it's you, then?" you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion. you just wanted this to be over with, but it seemed luck just wasn't on your side today.

"it's me," he confirms, the blinding grin still plastered to his face as he inches even closer, "you surprised?"

"yeah, actually. i didn't know you were an artist." you reply, voice flat, and you watch him blink once in surprise. you raise a brow at his bewilderment, your patience already wearing painfully thin. he chuckles awkwardly in an attempt to hide how you so obviously caught him off guard.

"ah, yeah i uh–" he stutters, but you cut him off before he can make too much of a fool of himself.

"in fact, i don't actually know you at all. i couldn't recall your name even if you held a gun to my head." the hiss in your voice reveals just how over this whole situation you are. he opens his mouth to spout something else you have no interest in hearing, the sleazy grin falling from his face, but you hold a hand up to silence him. "so i'd really appreciate it if you left me alone."

"but–"

"and stay out of my room, and my locker, too. if it happens again, you're getting reported." you spit the final words at him, and turn on your heel to leave. before you can take another step, he grabs your elbow and spins you back around to face him, causing your ankle to twist awkwardly, which sends a fresh jolt of pain up your leg. you hold back a groan and fix him with a deadly glare instead.

"hey, c'mon, don't be like that!" you wince as he practically demands, getting much closer to you than was necessary, even with you arching backwards to put some space between you. "at least gimme a chance,"

"just leave me alone." you hiss, pulling your arm out of his grip and before he has the chance to do or say anything else, you hurry back the way you came, your limp noticeably more pronounced than earlier. thankfully, the private – jackson, you’d just about been able to read on his jacket – didn’t follow you back to the mess hall, which proves that he has at least half a brain. you hoped that he’d take the hint to stay away from you, but somewhere in the back of your mind you were preparing yourself to be hassled by him in the coming days; he certainly seemed the type.

you were gone less than ten minutes, but in that time most of the lunch crowd had cleared out, leaving the room a lot quieter than it had been. as you shuffle towards soap and gaz, still sitting at the same table, they both turn to look at you, and you can tell by the way both their expressions drop that they sense something is off.

"what happened?" gaz asks as you take your seat across from them, trying to hold back a wince when you put too much strain on your ankle, "your face says it didn't go well."

you sigh, looking between both of them, lingering on soap who’s already watching you with an intensity that has your face heating up. "it didn’t. it was just some private who can’t take no for an answer." you grumble, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

"your ankle okay?" soap asks, holding your gaze until you relent and look away first. you want to tell him not to worry, but you find it's impossible to lie to him, not when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the room. "what happened?" he presses, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.

"its nothing, he just– i just twisted it a little." you trip over your words under his stare, looking to gaz for help, but you find that he has a similar – albeit less intense – look of concern on his face. the silence hangs between you for a moment as you wordlessly try to convince them, but they see through you. "alright, fine. when i was leaving, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, and i pulled my ankle."

if johnny had been pissed before, he was furious now; his eyes were dark underneath his furrowed brow, his lips turned down in a frown that looked more like a snarl. to see someone usually so easygoing with such a threatening look on his face was almost worrying, the only reassurance being that you know it's not directed at you.

"that prick… who was it?" gaz isn't nearly as affected as soap, but he's clearly annoyed by the audacity of the private. you shake your head, urging them to just let it go; he wasn't worth the trouble, after all.

when johnny says your name in that deep, gravelly tone, your heart skips a beat and your eyes snap to meet his. "who was it." he asks, but it's not a question anymore, and every fibre of your being is telling you to just give in to him.

"jackson. i don't know his first name…" you mutter, slightly flustered by the way he's acting. the tension in the silence that follows is nearly suffocating. from where his arms rest on the table, you notice johnny repeatedly clenching his fists, seemingly having some sort of internal battle with himself.

"what a bellend…" gaz grumbles, pausing for a moment to shake the disgust from his face. "so, what about the whole 'secret admirer' thing then?" he leans back in his chair, eyes darting to soap's profile then back to you.

"i don't know…" you sigh, "didn't really seem like something he was capable of, but i guess i don't really know him, so–"

"yeah, he doesn't seem the type, does he?" gaz interjects, with a newfound energy at your words. you narrow you eyes, sensing an ulterior motive, but let him continue. "i mean, buying you flowers, sweets– seems a bit too thoughtful for such a twat."

his jab coaxed a laugh from you, "maybe; i guess i was pretty disappointed when i saw it was him, though."

"oh yeah? expecting someone else, were you?" gaz has a grin on his face, one that has you worried that he's clocked on to your true feelings.

"something like that…" you clear your throat, suddenly feeling a little too seen for your liking. "anyway, i'd better get going, desk duty is no joke," you slowly stand up, making sure to be careful of your newly irritated ankle, and adamantly avoiding eye contact with either of them.

"yeah, me too, cap said he needs my help with something." gaz stands as well, giving soap a pat on the back and a suspicious wink as he walks off, which you willfully choose to ignore.

"you gonna be okay?" johnny comes to your side as you shuffle around the table, his hand brushing over your back to support you. butterflies begin to flutter at the feeling, and you scold yourself for being so easily affected. he seems to have calmed down a lot, the anger from earlier overtaken by his concern.

"yeah, i'll be fine, i think i'll just have to grab my crutch," you smile at him and take a step forward, wincing as you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"c'mon, lemme help you," he tilts his head to meet your eyes, his worry evident within them. his hand is warm on your back, you have to hold yourself back from leaning into him. "cannae have you hurtin' yourself any more."

"you sure? don't you have work to do too?" you have every intention of taking him up on his offer, but you couldn't help feeling guilty for needing his help like this.

"i'm sure lt. can survive a few extra minutes," johnny gives you a reassuring smile, already ushering you out of the mess hall.

"well, don't blame me when has your head," you grin back at him, relishing in the comfortable feeling of being so close to him. distracted by his proximity, you momentarily forget about your injury and without thinking, you put too much weight on it as you take a step. with a pained gasp, you wobble on your good foot and pause to give your ankle a break.

johnny moves his arm to sit securely around your waist, gently pulling you to lean fully against him. "you sure you don't want me to take you to the infirmary?" he asks, lifting your arm to wrap around his shoulders.

"no, no– they're just gonna tell me to rest, and i'll be sitting down all day anyway," you move to continue on your way to your room, but he stays put.

"you should still get it looked at, might be–"

"johnny." you stop him with a hand on his chest, "i'm okay."

you watch his adams apple bob as he gulps, his eyes flickering to where your hand is touching him and back up to your own, almost too fast to notice.

"right, right. sorry." he dips his head, breaking eye contact. you pull him gently, and the two of you start walking again. "you know jackson well?"

you scoff, frowning as you recall the events of earlier. "what? no, before today i didn't even know his name. he seems like kind of an arsehole, to be honest."

"really? made that bad of an impression, eh?" his lopsided smile feels oddly smug, but you decide not to overthink it.

"like i said, can't take a no." you grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand, "i doubt this is the last time i'll have to deal with him…"

"he's not gonna bother you." johnny states, with a finality that is as stunning as it is comforting.

"...if you say so." you don't press any further, wanting to simply move on and forget about the whole thing. you'd gladly never think about that arrogant private again.

before you know it, the two of you are standing in the hall outside your room. his grip around your waist loosens as you push open the door, and you're all too aware of the cold feeling left behind as he lets go.

"thank you, for helping me." you shoot him a grateful smile, grabbing your crutch from where it leant against the wall, propping it under your arm.

"course," johnny pauses, looking past you to something in your room. "you… kept the gardenias?" he asks, his voice quiet, almost disbelieving. you tilt your head, a silent question, but he's still staring at the flowers.

"yeah, they're…" you begin, but his words have you pausing too; he didn't seem like the kind of person to be interested in floristry, you'd certainly never heard him say anything about it before. but somehow, he'd identified the flowers on your end table with no problem. "...they're nice. i like them, even if they do look a little sad now."

when he finally meets your eyes again, there's a distinct redness to his face that wasn't there before, and you feel your heart beginning to race with renewed hope. it could be that he just likes flowers, but if he already knew they were gardenias, maybe he…

"right, i, uh– i should get going, or ghost might actually kill me." johnny's voice had a dazed quality to it when he spoke.

"alright, i'll see you later then," you give him a small smile as you step back into the hall next to him. the two of you look at each other for a moment before you speak again, holding back a laugh, "you gonna go, or just stand there all day?"

your words seem to snap him out of the trance he’d been in, and he shakes his head in an almost comical manner, "right! right, sorry, bye!" he sputters, waving over his shoulder as he jogs away. you chuckle to yourself as he goes, and start walking the opposite direction to get started with your own work.

✹✹✹

you didn't see soap again until the next day, considering that he was strangely absent from mealtimes both last night and today. thankfully the incident from the day before hadn't done any further damage to your ankle, so you were up and about without the need for your crutch after a good night's rest.

you'd just dropped off a folder of paperwork in price's office – which you'd completed in fairly good time, thanks to being stuck behind a desk for nearly two weeks – but as you descend the staircase, you're almost knocked over by someone flying around the corner. you caught yourself with a hand on the railing, blinking away your surprise and glaring at whoever had carelessly bumped into you.

much to your chagrin, it was jackson, and you feel your face naturally falling into a frown at the realisation. you’d been expecting him to try and change your mind about yesterday, but true to johnny’s words, he had yet to bother you about it; actually, you hadn’t seen him at all since then, not even at breakfast or lunch, but it's not as if you were complaining.

though, as you stare down at him from the step above, you notice a deep purple bruise decorating his cheekbone that definitely wasn’t there yesterday. your frown turns from malice to confusion as you wonder how he could have gotten it in the span of less than a day, it looked like he’d taken a serious punch. you couldn’t say you felt bad for him, but it did look painful.

"listen, about yesterday… i- i lied,." jackson mutters, eyes glued to the floor to avoid your own. he was shuffling in place, as if he was preparing to bolt at any second. your eyes narrow as you process his words.

"what?"

he clears his throat. "i lied. it wasn’t me, i just said it was because one of the guys bet me i couldn’t get you to go out with me." he admits. the way he keeps avoiding your eyes, glancing around like he was waiting for someone to jump out at him has you a little suspicious, but your heart still soars when you realise what he means.

jackson wasn't your secret admirer, so your hopeless romantic heart could still dream that it was johnny. the flutter of butterflies even distracts you from the insulting notion that he only wanted to go out with you for a bet.

"seriously?" you ask, your shock evident in your voice as you stare him down. finally his eyes land on your own, an embarrassed grimace overtaking his nervous expression. it's a stark, satisfying difference to his arrogant overconfidence from before.

"yeah. i’m sorry, okay? i don’t want any trouble, it was just–" he cuts himself off, but when you give him a questioning look, he can't tear his eyes from the space behind you, and only mumbles what sounds like a ‘sorry’ before scurrying off back the way he came. you watch him go, thoroughly confused by the whole interaction, but not a moment later a voice from where he was staring brings you out of your thoughts.

"y’alright? little shit wasn’t botherin’ you, was he?" soap's voice cuts through the quiet, and you turn to see him descending the stairs to stand next to you.

you shake your head, "no, no, he just–" you hesitate, your mind going back to yesterday and the gardenias. "he lied, it wasn't him."

"really?" he asks, but his voice doesn't sound surprised at all. you're not sure if you imagined it, but for a moment his expression changes into something like satisfaction.

"yeah, he was about to say something else too, but he just ran off," you sigh, walking down the last few steps. soap follows close behind, a hand hovering near your back. "did you see that bruise on his face? wonder how he got it…"

"looked nasty, eh?" a laugh escapes him, and you admire the way his lips curve, the creases around his eyes as his smile reaches them. "maybe he finally got what was comin' to him."

his face was close to yours, a lot closer than you could reasonably handle without losing your nerve and making a fool of yourself. realising you had yet to respond, you clear your throat and start walking down the corridor, your eyes to the floor and a burning in your cheeks.

"if he never speaks to me again, it'll still be too soon…" you grumble, willing your heart to calm down as he comes up next to you in a few long strides. "anyway, what have you been up to? i haven't seen you all day." with a quick glance, you see the easy smile he has falter slightly.

"i was, ah–" he avoids your eye as he stops himself, a beat of silence passes before he continues "nevermind, i– i was… looking for you." your heart skips a beat, but you scold it for being so eager; the two of you were teammates, friends, he could be looking for you for any number of reasons.

"looking for me? what's up?" you turn your head to face him as you walk, a curious tilt to your brow.

johnny comes to a stop, and so do you a moment after. he looks at you, fidgety and shifting on his feet, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. the look on his face is unsure, uncomfortable, like he was debating running off like jackson had done a minute ago.

he's nervous, that much you can tell. but despite the slightly awkward tension, you you wait for whatever it is he's struggling to say.

"i… uh– y'know what, i actually forgot." johnny hangs his head, pulling his hands from his pockets and scratching the back of his neck.

at his words your heart sinks, and you can't help the disappointed look that takes over your expression. "oh? are you–"

before you can finish, he drops a hand on your shoulder and steps ahead of you, turning around so you're face to face. "listen, ghost is waiting for me, so i gotta run," he smiles again, but it's weaker this time, almost forced as it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"right… better not keep him waiting."

"right," his reply is short, and the tension between you only grows every moment he avoids your eyes. "i'll see you later though, promise." he flashes you another false smile, gently patting your shoulder, before turning on his heel and swiftly escaping down the corridor.

"bye, johnny." you release a sigh, from longing or exasperation you're not sure, watching his form disappear through the doors.

✹✹✹

despite his promise, once again you don't see soap for the rest of the day. at dinner you'd questioned ghost on his whereabouts, but he only told you that he had no idea either. this time however, you got the strong feeling he was lying to you.

still though, you couldn't find it within yourself to be annoyed with him. you could see clear as day that something was going on with johnny, and if he didn't want to confide in you about whatever it is, then you certainly won't be the one to push him.

having finished today's obligations, you decided to head straight to your room once you'd finished eating. you open your door, a sigh escaping you as you prepare to collapse for the night, and stop dead in your tracks.

a folded sheet of paper lays in front of you, standing out against the emptiness of your floor, crumpled like it had been screwed up and flattened out again. a sense of déjà vù overcomes you, for last week, when you'd received the sketches of yourself in the same way. for a moment all you can do is stand there, staring at the paper, processing.

eventually, you do step into your room, shutting the door quietly behind you and picking the paper up from the floor. you keep it folded until you're sitting on the edge of your mattress, hands shaking ever so slightly with the anticipation.

you're not sure what to think, as you sit burning holes in the paper with your stare. after yesterday, you thought you were done with the idea of your secret admirer; but then again, jackson had admitted to you earlier that he'd lied when he met you yesterday, and the whole reason you weren't as interested after that was because your pipe dream of the mystery person being johnny had been shattered. but now that the identity of your admirer was once again a mystery, you couldn't help but want to dream like that again.

with a defeated groan, you decide to just rip off the bandaid and read the note. you unfold it, immediately noticing the scratchy handwriting – the opposite of the note jackson gave you, so thankfully it couldn't be from him.

you hear your heartbeat in your ears as your eyes scan the words in front of you.

i stayed up all night trying to write this note, but nothing i came up with felt good enough, so i'm just going to say it. i'm your secret admirer. i know you probably won't believe me after that bastard yesterday, but i need you to know anyway. i used to think that love just wasn't my thing, that i'd never find someone i wanted to spend my life with, but that changed when i met you. i didn’t realise it at first, but it's always been you. you're my person, and i can't hide it anymore. i love you. maybe i'm a coward for giving you a note instead of telling you face to face. but if you don't feel the same, you can throw it away, or burn it or something, and i'll never bring it up again. your heart, johnny

the silence in your room borders on deafening as you sit completely still, reeling from what you'd just read. you didn't realise you'd stopped breathing until you release a shaky breath.

all this time, it was johnny.

every longing glance, every touch that lingered just a little too long, the racing pulse every time he says your name; it was all reciprocated.

every time you thought you could never have him as anything more than your best friend, you were wrong.

he cared enough to leave you a pick-me-up after a hard mission, buy you flowers when you got injured, draw you the way he saw you, gift you things he took the time to notice you like.

all this time… he'd felt the exact same way you do.

you set the note down next to you, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth that had fallen open in shock. there was only one thing to do, in your mind, and that was to run into johnny's arms and make up for all the lost time you've spent pining over him.

in seemingly no time at all, you find yourself standing at johnny's door, your fist poised to knock. theres a moment of hesitation, but before your apprehension can cloud your mind, you let your knuckles rap on the wood once, twice, three times, and take a step back as you wait for a response. after a second or two – which felt a lot longer than it actually was – you hear the sounds of footsteps from inside.

another moment passes, and you assume johnny is standing on the other side with his heart in his throat just like you, short-lived before he finally swings the door open.

he looks at you, eyes wide and like a deer caught in headlights, the way he holds himself uncharacteristically shy as you stare each other down.

"the note," you finally murmur, and johnny almost flinches, clearly fighting the urge to look away from you. "tell me you meant it." you continue, taking a miniscule step closer to him. you hear his breath catch in his chest.

"every word." he whispers, gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes again, and your heart misses a beat.

with no hesitation this time, you hook your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, crushing his mouth against yours in a desperate kiss that's as much teeth as it is lips.

johnny groans into your mouth, his hands flying to your waist as he turns and walks you backwards into his room. the door gets kicked shut behind him once he's got you inside, neither of you breaking apart more than enough to draw a single ragged breath before meeting in the middle again. with another needy whine into you he pushes you up against the wall, caging you in with his broad shoulders and his arms around your waist.

the weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his stubble prickly against your face, the softness of his lips against yours; it's everything you've been waiting for, and now you finally have him, he tastes sweeter than you could've ever imagined.

the two of you stay like that for moments that feel like hours in each other's embrace, only pulling away when your lungs are burning and your lips are swollen. leaning your head back against the wall, his eyes meet yours with such adoration it sends your heart fluttering all over again.

"i'll take that as a good sign," he mumbles, a lopsided grin lifting his features. his joy is so infectious you can't help but mirror his expression as you drop your head to rest on his shoulder.

his chest rumbles with an airy, disbelieving laugh and he tugs you impossibly closer, resting his cheek against the side of your head. standing chest to chest now, you can feel the hammering of his heart against yours and the way his skin burns under your touch.

"you’re my person too," you murmur into him, one of your hands moving up to tangle in the strands of his mohawk, "always have been."

johnny's arms wind tighter around you as he releases a deep, content sigh. he's hugged you countless times before but somehow, this feels different while still staying exactly the same. the heat radiating from him is soothing like it always has been, the knowledge that your feelings are reciprocated only making it that much sweeter.

"why'd it take us so long, eh?" he utters, tender and loving in the way he runs his hands over your back and sides.

"we're just idiots…" you reply, "gaz is gonna have a field day with this."

johnny laughs again, pressing his lips to the side of your head so you can feel his smile. "oh, he clocked us a long time ago, bonnie."

you can't help but groan as you imagine how gaz will tease the both of you for how oblivious you've both been.

he lifts you up by his grip around your waist, carrying you over to his bed and flopping down onto his back with you on his chest. a satisfied groan escapes him as he settles, burying his face into your hair and inhaling a deep breath.

you're enveloped by the scent of him – gunpowder, and the faint smell of something burnt, but it's pleasant and familiar nonetheless.

"yer stayin' with me tonight, non negotiable." he murmurs, running a hand up and down the length of your spine.

"fine by me." you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and find them already locked on you. "so, about jackson…"

johnny scoffs, lightheartedly frowning in response. "yer gonna bring his name up while yer in my bed?"

"he looked really spooked when he saw you earlier," you begin, smoothing your hand over his chest. his eyes widen at your words, his hand freezing as he looks away from you with a distinctly guilty expression on his face. you narrow your eyes, holding back the amused smirk pulling at your lips. "johnny… did you…"

he clears his throat, and by the way he can't hold your gaze for more than a second you can tell he knows he's been caught. there's no stopping the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at his reaction.

"...i may have, uh– potentially put some fear o'god into the little bawbag…"

"soap!"

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #roosterr writes #releasing this into the wild like an injured bird

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pomefioredove · 27 days

Note

You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #rook hunt x reader #can't stop thinking of the logistics of this bc if rook and vil both liked the mc at the same time they would NEVER fight over it #rook would totally let vil go ahead and then either become vilyuu number one fan OR polycule OR be there to steal mc when vil fucks up #and alas polycule is probably the least likely because vil would Not Want to Share

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kennedysbaby · 30 days

Text

pretty baby — leon kennedy.

wc: 3.1k

pairing: re6! leon kennedy x fem! reader.

content: age gap, smoking, alcohol consumption, fake-dating, two pretentious people engaging in a conversation, leon saying "women", kissing, reader is apart of leon's squad.

honorable mention: claire redfield.

a/n: mmmmmm re6 leon (i'm losing my mind). posted this from my patio because the weather's finally getting better <3.

contrary to popular opinion, dreary, rainy nights were one of your most favorite things—amongst many other stuff you cherished—but you held nights like these dear to your heart. the soft pattering from rain droplets hitting against the window, a warm blanket, and comfortable pajamas, coupled with a cup of hot coffee and a book was, in your opinion, a perfect way to wind down after slaving away at work all day.

however…you just wished for one more thing.

a boyfriend. a man. someone to call your own.

someone who'd let you rest your head on their lap as you flipped through the pages and took sporadic sips of whatever hot beverage you were drinking at the moment. someone who'd thread their fingers through your hair and press soft kisses on your forehead. your entire body yearned for such a thing, but it always felt so out of reach.

unfortunately, men didn't commit, or think, like that. they just took what they wanted like dogs and then headed out the door, not a single care in the world. it was pathetic and desperate.

hook-up culture irked you. so did "talking stages," or anything of that caliber. why would any sane person waste their time and energy like that on someone they'd meet for no longer than a week? maybe you were just a hopeless romantic.

maybe you were the pathetic and desperate one.

none of the men at your workplace interested you in the slightest—as they all had that mindset you loathed. you were a special government agent, trying to save the world from bioterrorism. all the male agents were arrogant, wanna-be jerks. they'd call themselves "esoteric" when really, their favorite movie directors were quentin tarantino and christopher nolan.

you just rolled your eyes and sighed. how deplorable.

there was one guy, however, but you deemed him out of the question. a forbidden fruit, in other words. for starters, he was a good ten years—maybe more—older than you. he also happened to be the leader of your assigned, specific, squad. and ironically enough, a mercenary had him twirling his dirty blonde hair and blushing like a schoolgirl. she was very gorgeous, in his defense.

leon kennedy was just so damn handsome, it had you acting a fool. you couldn't help but swoon when he called you "sweetheart" casually, as if it was second nature. he'd put his hands on your waist while walking past you, muttering a quick, "sorry, sweetheart." he had really good taste in films, music, and books too, surprisingly. he treated you like a real person, not a piece of meat like most men did.

he even made you laugh at his insanely stupid jokes.

you often wondered if you were in love with him, or if it was just a fleeting crush. or maybe you adored the attention he gave you (more than your other peers). but then again, was there really a difference between love and attention?

as you tucked your knees beneath yourself, sinking down further into the couch, your cellphone vibrated right next to you, the caller id reading leon—how fucking cliche. your heart then dropped, wondering why he'd call you at eight pm on a saturday. swallowing the lump in your throat, you answered quickly, "um, hello?"

"hey sweetheart," leon's low, smooth voice said on the other end of the line. it sounded like he was driving. maybe to see me, you thought, before chastising yourself for being delusional. he couldn't fawn over you when ada wong existed. a beat later, he added, "i know this is a little out of the norm, but i was just wondering if you were free tomorrow."

free tomorrow? for what? was this seriously happening? you dumbfoundedly stammered, uttering something so laughable out, "i— uh— are you sure you have the right number?" your whole body recoiled with cringe the second those words rolled right off your tongue. you resisted the urge to groan in annoyance.

and laugh is exactly what leon did. it was short, almost a scoff. "nah. but it isn't what you think, don't worry," that little bit confused you, before he elaborated, "i'm not trying to be some creepy boss. long story short, i need a date for an event."

"a date..? what kind of event?" you queried, sitting yourself upright. your mind was still barely registering the fact that you were having this conversation with leon, quite literally moments after fantasizing about him.

he let out a soft exhale, "one of my old friends is hosting this get together, and lets just say i've been lying to her about having a girlfriend—" leon groaned at how juvenile he was sounding, shaking his head in disbelief. "i'm too old for this shit." he chastised, before getting back on track. "anyways, she's been on my ass about it, telling me i should find a girl, and that i'd be a lot happier, or something like that."

debatable, he thought, given his experience with a certain woman in the past.

"so i lied to her, and said i was talking to this girl, so she's expecting you. you don't have to if you aren't up for it, but i won't let you go back home empty-handed if you do end up coming through."

pretending to be leon's girlfriend—even for a day—sounded like heaven on earth to you.

without even giving the offer a second thought, you said a little too excitedly, "yes!—i mean, sure, why not." a poor attempt at playing it cool. "i haven't got anything planned tomorrow, so…"

leon chuckled lightly at your enthusiasm, finding it endearing. unbeknownst to you, the man did actually think about you outside of work, even if it swarmed him with guilt. you weren't a rookie, but still, it felt wrong. he was thirty-six, he shouldn't be giving a girl in her early-to-mid twenties second thoughts. he really did feel like a "creepy boss."

but he couldn't help himself. not when you were so unfathomably pretty. his lips parted at the way you'd smile up at him, nodding your head as you quickly scurried off and followed orders, or how you'd always offer to help him with filing mission reports—a very tedious task that no other agent on your team would ever volunteer to do.

he also wasn't an idiot, and knew that you held him on some sort of pedestal, whether it be a crush, infatuation, or simply admiration.

"alright, cool." leon affirmed, now pulling into his driveway, the asphalt crackling beneath the tires. he pulled the keys out of the ignition, and shoved them into his pocket, whilst staying on the phone with you. "i'll pick you up around six. we won't stay too long, leave around eight. okay?"

your mouth had went dry by this point, but you quickly agreed, "yeah, sounds good."

what the hell just happened?

…

holding onto leon's arm, the two of you walked into his friend's—who you later found out was the claire redfield—house, and you couldn't help but marvel at the place. clearly, the woman made relatively well money, and it showed itself in flaming colors through her subtle decor. dressed in her classic red leather jacket, she greeted you and leon with a smile, "hey leon, and…the mystery girl he's been telling me about," the woman chuckled. she was so pretty.

you introduced yourself to claire, surprisingly not feeling nervous in the slightest, as you usually were when you meet people for the first time. it wasn't that you were shy, you were just reserved. but claire was sweet. some people take ages to warm up to, but she wasn't like that—instantly likable.

"i honestly don't know how a girl as pretty as her is into you leon," claire teased, a knowing smirk on her maroon lips. leon just scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he was used to her tormenting. "drinks?" she asked, not waiting for you two to respond as she handed the two of you glasses of red wine.

you mumble a quick thank you, then raising the glass to your lip gloss coated lips, taking a sip before laughing, "maybe i'm just attracted to losers." which wasn't exactly a lie—you were in love with leon, or something like that. he just didn't know. yet…

"a loser?" an offended look crosses his perfect features, as he looks down at you in surprise. he just shook his head and sighed, "women." the comment earned a chuckle from both you and claire—laughing at leon's misery would always be funny. he could only purse his lips and keep his peace.

your eyes dart around the room, noticing a few familiar faces, others not. a couple of bsaa agents, sherry birkin—to name a few—and more. the next hour consisted of repeating your introduction to a few more of leon's friends that you didn't know, and leon sporadically leaving kisses on either the top of your head, or your arm, as any "boyfriend" would. he was doing an awfully good job of playing the part.

almost too good. if only you weren't so oblivious.

the atmosphere was becoming disgustingly stuffy, so you free yourself from leon's arm wrapped around your waist from behind, and told him, "hey, i'm gonna step out on the patio for a second."

"wait, i'll go with you." and you didn't protest against it.

leon was fighting the guilt that was regurgitating to the surface, telling himself that he shouldn't pursue you in any way possible. he couldn't entertain whatever feelings you were harboring for him, not when he was the older, more experienced individual in this scenario. but he was weak. so inexplicably drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

the two of you slipped out to the patio, standing side-by-side as the cool breeze blew threw your hair, the skirt of your dress billowing in the wind. leon stared at you, lovelorn. you pulled a pack of parliaments and a fancy lighter out of your purse, flicking it and lighting your cigarette.

"i didn't know you smoked." leon said plainly. he himself didn't—never did, never will. it was a bit ironic how he was comfortable being an alcoholic, though.

you shrugged, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air, "eh. i'm not addicted, like you might be assuming. i just do it for shits and giggles, i don't know," another puff, another cloud of smoke.

"shits and giggles?" he mused, laughing lightly. "that's a juvenile way to put it."

his laugh alone pulled a smile onto your lips, as you couldn't fight the heat that spread across your cheeks like a wildfire. "i guess. but hey, everyone has their vices, don't judge."

"hey, i'm not judging." leon raised his hands in surrender, a soft smile of his own forming. "you just didn't strike me as the type, that's all."

you just shook your head with a grin, looking away from leon bashfully, trying your hardest to ignore the fact that your heart was beating out of your chest. he was a horribly charming fake boyfriend. it didn't help that you were already pining for the man, even if you wanted to pretend like you could never have him. that was beyond your concerns in this moment.

"what kind of girl do i strike you as?" you ask curiously, turning your head to meet him staring right at you. oh shit. you bit the corner of your cheek anxiously. whatever, i'm probably misreading things, you console yourself. no, he couldn't be. this wasn't some cheesy romcom.

he feigned mulling over the question for a moment, before replying in a tone softer than silk. "well," leon got a little closer, just a teensy bit, and said, "you're a good girl. tooth-rottingly sweet, does her work before its due, volunteers when she doesn't have to, not to mention she graduated top of her class. you're also bit of a stickler, no offense," his sharp eyes met yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

"i am not—!" he gave you a knowing look, before you sighed, "i guess you're right. but whatever, you like jane austen novels," you fired back, "you, who enjoys bands like alice in chains and the foo fighters, reads authors like dostoevsky and nabokov—your favorite movie is the french connection for christ's sake! jane austen is very out of character, i'd say."

leon couldn't describe the swell of adoration he felt for you as you judged his tastes, going on a whole tangent; if he had no self-control, he'd kiss you without hesitation. but he played it cool, his eyes narrowing as he countered, "that's different."

you remembered that stuff about him. his heart skipped a beat, making him feel like an anxious teenager.

"it's different? how's it different?" you retorted playfully, and the two of you went back and forth for the next five minutes over the most ineffably stupid conversation known to mankind. the whole scene was so awfully picturesque, straight out of a movie.

"whatever you say, sweetheart," was what leon said sarcastically, ending the banter between the two of you, even if he was enjoying it beyond belief. it had been a damn long time since he'd felt something this warm inside of him. leon mentally chastised himself for being so self-indulgent—even if he really deserved it.

his pale blue eyes glance over at his watch, reading the time: 8:04 pm. leon then looked up at you, and asked, "you wanna head out soon?"

you take a final puff from your lit cigarette, softly exhaling the smoke, before answering weakly, "hm? oh, uh, sure."

that definitely put a damper in your mood, and leon took very well notice of it. after tonight, you wouldn't be leon's pretend girlfriend. you'd go back to being his subordinate, just someone who he worked with on the field, and maybe considered a friend. you really enjoyed spending time with more veteran agents tonight, more importantly, you enjoyed spending time with leon.

this all only made your lovesick self worse. you felt slightly mad at him for playing his part so well.

"you okay?" leon asked, a concerned expression etched onto his features as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. his hand, typically so calloused from the rough years, felt so delicate. it was jarring, yet swoon-worthy. he was a little confused as to why you were so upset now.

you swallowed the heavy lump in yout throat, unsure of how to proceed, so you resort to simply mustering up a half-hearted smile, "yeah. just a little exhausted."

"exhausted?" he repeated incredulously. "just a minute ago you were spewing nonsense at me. tell me the truth, sweetheart." a genuine look was plastered on his face, one you couldn't argue against. but it wasn't like you could confess to leon just like that, with zero repercussions. no, that wouldn't work.

he teased slyly, in an attempt to lighten the mood and cheer you up, "was i too mean?"

"nah," you couldn't bring yourself to stifle your chuckle, "it's just…" your voice trailed off, not knowing how to proceed. "well…" leon lifts his hand from you shoulder, up to your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, allowing him to get a better look of your face. your lips part slightly in awe at his sweet gesture—you weren't by anyone now, you didn't have to pretend to be a couple.

"c'mon, lay it on me."

you sucked in a deep breath, before swallowing your pride, and confessing, "leon, i— look, i know it's not allowed, and quite frankly, inappropriate, but…"

and that was telling enough. he knew just what you were trying to tell him, and to save you from any further embarrassing stuttering, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing overs, your breath mingling with his.

"that's alright," leon cooed, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. "i'm flattered, really."

his mind was yelling, praying for him to stop and get ahold of himself, but his entire body was working on autopilot, fueling his desires. here this pretty girl was, handing herself to him on a silver platter—how in god's name could he refuse? he was just as eager for her, to feel her soft skin, kiss her sweet, full lips. his breath hitched as your hand lightly trailed up his arm.

his lips then left a soft, gentle kiss against yours. you sighed contently, leaning in closer to his touch, deepening the kiss. leon's hands roamed a bit more freely, crawling up your sides, lingering on your hips. he pulled away for a moment, and mumbled, "you're so pretty baby," a light chuckle erupted from his throat, the sound alone making your heart flutter. "such a sweet girl." he left another kiss on your jaw, then on your neck, his light stubble prickling your skin.

a shaky breath slipped past your lips, escaping from the depths of your lungs. his words alone made your knees weak—this seemed so surreal, but nice. here leon was, a man you thought you'd never have, kissing you as if he really was your boyfriend. you lifted your hands, bringing them up to cup his cheeks, and smiled.

"so…are you just getting free kisses out of me, or what?"

leon shook his head, "nah, no way." another quick kiss against your lips. "i'm taking you out for dinner next weekend. i won't take no for an answer." he stared at you intently, as he plunged right back in for another kiss—this man was starved.

you reciprocated each and every kiss, letting out a soft moan as he slipped his tongue past your lips, fingers tangling into his dirty blonde hair. leon was at war with his mind, his body betraying his thoughts. he really shouldn't be doing this—entertaining the notion of a relationship between the two of you—but he couldn't bring himself to. he was only human, after all.

"fine by me," you replied, pulling away momentarily to catch your breath. "b-but what about the rules? wouldn't this get us both in trouble?"

"again with the stickler act." leon chuckled amusedly. "sweetheart, nobody has to know. this'll be our little thing. we can keep this under the wraps, can't we?—if it all works out, that is. believe it or not…i've had it bad for you too." he reassured you, the words coming out smoothly, as if he'd been planning this moment for ages. i've got it bad for you too.

"if you say so," you conceded with a stupid smile, leaning in to kiss him again. leon pushed away any regretful thoughts, not allowing them to consume a good moment—they were as rare as they come with him.

you both really were a bunch of self-indulgent, pretentious losers.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #re6 leon x reader #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy oneshot #resident evil #re6 leon <333 #self indulgence at its finest #older leon kennedy #kennedysbaby

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harunovella · 3 months

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse vi); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo share your"first" kiss... and maybe, you become something more? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, first kisses, absolute softness!!! not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another one shot for my gojo anthology series! thank u all for the love on this series!! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

There was no lie in saying Gojo Satoru had consumed your thoughts. It was quite the recent development, seeing as he was an enigma that sort of manifested into your life. One day, you were living your apprentice life, exploring your technique, honing and developing it... then the next, this myth of a (young) man appeared before your eyes. Like an angel that fell from the sky and right into your palm. You just had no idea that he was wrapped around your finger.

Maybe it was because you were oblivious, unaware of the subtle (but were they really subtle?) messages he sent your way. If you had known Gojo Satoru well enough, you would've known that this was very unlike him. Sparing his time for someone else? Giving them his all? Focusing on them more than himself? Practically going brain dead around them unlike the usual cocky persona he carried around. Surely it scared him, falling deeply for someone just at the simple sight of them... but, for you? You just thought it was the universe working its magic. Bringing someone new into your life to develop a bond with. That was it, right?

Just another somebody to call your friend.

However, Gojo Satoru wasn't just any somebody. He was the honored one, the strongest (he'd eventually learn this). He was the Gojo Satoru. The once in a life time (well, thousand years) creation formed by the gods themselves.

He was the man who fell head over heels for you when he laid his eyes on you for the very first time. Stumbled over his words before you. Unable to process a single thought when he gazed into your eyes. Rescued a cat you found in a tree that you named after his favorite treat (and the nickname he had for you), Mochi. Kissed you at Utahime's birthday party during a game of spin the bottle where both of you were tipsy—a moment he would never forget, but you sadly had. A moment that slipped through the cracks of your brain, a moment that would eventually get replaced by a memorable moment.

It had become routine for you, spending your mornings in lessons with Nanami and Haibara. Then, you'd spend mid day with Shoko, following her like a shadow as her junior. Go on the occasional mission, take down curses, squeeze in snack breaks with your dear classmates, go out in the evening for dinner... and somehow, along your schedule, Gojo would make his appearance. You could never foresee it, he would pop up out of nowhere. If it wasn't teasing Kento, or bugging Shoko for her secret snack stash, he'd show up to your favorite dinner spot you shared with the girls (this almost always irritating Utahime because he ruined girls night). Gojo never cared, at this point he showed up wherever knowing (hoping) you'd be there. Always settling himself next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, sneaking a milk box onto your lap or even sharing his treat of the hour. He never shared his sweets with anyone. You were the exception.

"I got these lil gummies next to that arcade you frequent with Yu," Satoru said as the two of you sat under your (now his, too) favorite tree. The gorgeous cherry blossom in full bloom as spring had made its way around. You almost always had a blanket set, one of your books settled to the side, bookmark slipped into the part you last read. Your iPod nestled between you and Satoru, sharing each earbud as you listened to the current track that came on. Gojo, in his infamous wisdom, was the one who found programs to download music for free, an endless catalogue filling the memory of the rectangular device. Unlike it being yours, it was now his, too. You didn't mind. You liked sharing. You liked having these gentle moments with the overly energetic Gojo Satoru. These were the only moments he sat still, only with you. Just for you.

Always for you.

It was the little things that started adding up. It took you a minute to realize, longer than Satoru had hoped—but he was patient. He was obvious, made it clear that his feelings for you were there, he just hoped you'd piece the puzzle together. He had hoped you'd feel the same. How couldn't you when you looked so happy around him? When you said things reminded you of him. When you bought him little sweets you knew he'd love. When certain songs he loved, you'd learn the lyrics to. Just as you started noticing the (obvious) little things he did for you, he started noticing the same for you. Except, for you, it was coming out naturally. Nothing planned, nothing decided in advance, it just happened. It always just happens and it makes Satoru's heart beat faster and faster. Faster than it did before.

"You like 'em?" He asked, popping another gummy in his mouth as you chewed, nodding happily with the cutest smile of pure content. "I'm glad! Take some more!" He offered, waving the decorative bag of bright colors and little cartoons.

Letting out a small laugh, you took a couple more, waving your free hand, gesturing for him to take the rest as you popped them in your mouth. The fruity flavors filling your senses with pure bliss as you looked off to the open grounds of the school before you. The gentle breeze pushing through, strands of your hair fluttering against your face as they slipped from your ponytail. Gojo leaned against the tree, a knee propped as he rested his wrist against it, holding the baggie while his other tossed more gummies into his mouth. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Nothing but the music in one ear and the soft sounds of nature in the other.

"Oh, I love this song!" You perked up as a song ended and another started, looking at Satoru with a bright grin.

"Didn't I show you this one?" He asked, pushing his round glasses atop his head, smiling with you as you stood up.

"Mhm! I've been listening to it on repeat!" Grabbing the bag of gummies from his hand and settling it down, you took his hands and pulled him to his feet with a faint grunt. Sometimes you'd forget just how giant Satoru was since he loved to make himself seem so small when he was with you. "The music video is so cute! I kinda learned the dance."

"Really?" He chuckled as you guided him.

"Yes, remember you said you learned it after a few watches?" You asked as he nodded. "Let's dance it together!"

"Okay!" The white haired young man blushed, though a wide grin still was plastered on his face. He may have been a goofball, but Satoru did not have two left feet. He actually was quite skilled, and having him sing along with you made your heart flutter as you so casually danced around your shared tree.

It felt as if it was just the two of you, singing, dancing and entangling yourselves with the earphones, laughing and gazing at one another. As if there was nobody else in the world. As if it was just Mother Nature gazing upon two souls intertwining. All in what felt like slow motion, a scene right out of a movie. Your hand in his, his other on your lower back as your free one settled on his shoulder. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, and neither could he from yours.

Maybe it was a moment of vulnerability—or, rather courage—but your hand gently found its way to the back of his neck, fingers gently carding through his soft locks. The gentle feel of his undercut tickling underneath your palm, sending shivers down either of your spines. The softness in Gojo's eyes faded as you gently tugged him towards you. Growing in shock as your own fluttered closed. Gentle lips meeting in the middle as his plump ones met your lightly tinted own.

His heart was racing, faster than it had that night of Utahime's birthday. Maybe it was because both of you were 100% aware, or maybe it was because it was happening again but away from others, in your own shared comfort zone.

Feeling you pull away, Gojo instantly placed his hands on your hips, engulfing you in his arms as he kept you close. Kissing you, once sweetly turning deep. He didn't want this to end, didn't want it to be forgotten. His lips moved against your own, testing the waters. Nerves fading away, anxieties melting at how right this felt. You were his first, and he was going to make sure you were going to be his only. He didn't want anyone else. No one but you.

And you, after months of being oblivious and unaware, to months of development and realization, wanted him the same. Only him and no one else. Just Gojo Satoru.

Gently pulling back and resting his forehead against yours, a sigh of relief left his lips. "You beat me to it."

"It felt like the right moment," you softly spoke.

"Then I guess this is the right moment..." Gojo trailed.

"For what?" You curiously asked.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans @peqch-pie @pinksaiyans @silentmajesticfox @r0ckst4rjk @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @stinkysposts @lupitalove (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

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0-hoony · 3 months

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fairy of shampoo [or, holding hands w riize]

pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : fluffiest fluff 2 ever fluff cw/tw : none! (some arent really hand holding im sorry guys ://) wc : 0.6k

seunghan : he's a simple guy but he's also a hopeless romantic; big sucker for interlinked fingers and all the symbolism that comes w it <3 his grip would be so, so gentle though.. unless on rare occasions you happen to trigger his slightly possessive streak where his fingers would unintentionally tighten around yours.. wouldn't hesitate to show off him holding your hands to the source of the jealousy~

wonbin : hand holding patterns would definitely differ but mostly he'd stick to the simplest kind : your hand over his (or visa versa if he's feeling particularly babygirl/wants to be comforted by you).. he's the kinda guy who'd gently stroke your knuckles with his thumb all the time but the second you do it to him he ends up so flustered.. (side note he probably swings your hands tgt when you're out on a walk or something ;-;)

sohee : i saw this one twt post where they said that he seemed to not be that used to physical touch and was slowly getting used to it with his members ... so i feel like he'd maybe be a bit hesitant, shy to initiate proper hand holding straightaway; but would still want to feel connected to you .. hence, interlocked pinkies <3 also whenever he can he'd raise your hands to his lips and place a lil kiss right on the tip of your finger,,

anton : hear me out - he gets kinda hyper excited when you're around him and because of both of you being busy with your respective works you don't really get a lot of time together.. but there's so much he wants to show you, to experience with you.. this is what leads him to grab ahold your wrist and almost feverishly drag you places + it gives him leverage to be able to casually bite your arm (it's his love language) once a while ._.

shotaro : prefers to keep his arm around your shoulder whenever he can rather than holding hands which is adorable but guys... he's a head bonker trust me..... likes to bump your heads together (like a littol bunny ;-;) when he has his arm around you. also it makes him feel overall really fuzzy and warm inside to think he's kinda "protecting you" and keeping your pretty head comfy as well,, adores the fact that this position more often than not ends with you having an arm around his waist >///<

sungchan : he's an all or nothing guy and if it's you he physically can't go nothing; therefore he must have one of your hands in his while your other rests on his arm. yes he knows that means your hands won't be free to carry/hold on to anything else but hey what else is he here for?? steals whatever your holding and holds out his hand to you like oh you want to hold something too? here, hold this for me please ^^. yeah i know it's my hand and what about it D: ?

eunseok : he's different he's not like other guys huge fan of wrapping a hand around your waist because he's generally not a huge fan of a lot of pda but this provides him a secure position right at the edge of casual affection, intimacy and can we go to the other room and makeout :/ please :/ this probably started out as just teasing you but he actually likes how he's kinda subtly making it known that you're each others' <3 oh and loves that he can tickle you whenever he wants :p

notes : haha. mai. mai hey if u see this im begging u to take away my motivation rn please the history textbook is calling out to me please </3 /lh... + the coloured text realllyy isnt visible on light screens huh. fml + [m.list]

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lizthewriter · 7 months

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general theodore nott headcanons

• theo is the textbook defintion of dark academia

• his wardrobe is only filled with varying shades of black, grey, brown, and green; he mostly wears suits, but when he wants to feel comfortable, he'll thrown on a knit sweater

• he is very quiet - around people he doesn't know, he doesn't speak; around his friends, even, he doesn't speak too much

• he is highly intelligent; he's literally right up there with hermione, top of the class

• does a lot of free reading - mostly nonfiction but will tell no one about the romance novels hiding under his mattress

• sleeps around because parent issues - even though he doesn't really speak, he still gets bitches . . . probably because he is handsome af and also cause when he does speak, he is smooth

• he plays quidditch, though he doesn't care too much for it - when draco saw how good theo was on a broom, he begged and begged theo to join quidditch until he finally agreed

• does smoke, but would stop if you asked him too

• he is the adopted introvert . . . prove me wrong

• he's only really close with blaise, but because mattheo and blaise are best friends (by the transitive property of arithmetic), mattheo and theo are good friends too

• he's extremely protective (and slightly possessive) of the people he loves, probably because he lost his mother and he's afraid to lose the people he loves too

• scary dog privileges

• was almost sorted into ravenclaw

• loves winter and fall too much - he kind of looks out of sorts in the warmer months

• has never worn a pair of shorts in his life . . . i'm not kidding

• he's a little self-obssessed, but mostly just with his hair (you do NOT touch unless you have permission)

• he's not a hopeless romantic, but he'd do the most romantic shit and pretend like he did nothing, this mf 💀💀

• *sets up an entire romantic, home-cooked, candle lit dinner* *sits down, places napkin in his lap, and begins to eat* "well, aren't you gonna sit down?"

• doesn't tell anyone he has a crush on you

• he pines after you for ages - at first, he's kind of mad at you, cause he can't understand why he feels this way about you, but then this man is HEAD over HEELS for you

• he wants to figure out the perfect way to ask you out

• he gets really overwhelmed and stressed about it

• blaise sees theo huddled over his desk, hair all crazy, muttering like a maniac and asks him what's wrong - theo just starts shouting at blaise about you and he realizes his best friend is in love

• blaise is a good bro

• he helps theo plan the perfect date in hogsmeade - now all theo has to do is ask you out

• theo actually hasn't interacted with you too much, you have some classes together and you've been partners in potions

• he kind of just finds you after class one time and hovers behind you until your friends point him out to you

• you shook away your friends and turn to face theo - he stands completely straight and he looks obviously distressed

• "all right, nott?"

• "come to hogsmeade with me. please."

• "uh, sure. all right!"

• he takes you all around hogsmeade to anywhere you want to go

• he's not sure exactly what to do - he's never been on a date before . . . he wants to kiss you but doesn't know the perfect moment so he ends up forgoing that paticular thing

• he loves massaging - idk why, but I just feel like he would love to just run his fingers through your hair while you're cuddling or rub his back but his massages are >>>>>

• he thinks far into the future - living together, marriage, having kids, growing old

• he's a daydreamer

• he's a bit of a perfectionist too, but he never let's that side of him show to others

• everything HAS to be perfect for you

• he stops sleeping around once he gets with you, dedicates to you completely

• won't even look in the direction of another girl

• he prefers to sleep in with you - his love languages are quality time and physical touch

• he will help you study whenever you need

• will also drop any plans he has for you (hoes before bros)

• prefers to take you out to nice and exotic places for the holidays instead of having you over at his place (his father is a nightmare - he's adamant on ensuring that the two of you never cross paths)

• will propose to you spontaneously, approximately six months after being together

• he will not take no for an answer; will compromise, but he will not let you say no unless you despise him

• you are his favorite person in the world, his one and only, and you'd best remember that he's do ANYTHING for you

tags: @annaisabookworm

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #hp fanfcition #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott

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mrsnancywheeler · 6 months

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midnight rain part 2 // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

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the sequel

warnings: descriptions of gore, violence, death, including an eye, blood, manipulation of someone's feelings to survive, betrayal, unrequited love to resentment, mentions of a break up, relationship with lack of communication, anxiety with symptoms of nausea, allusions to trafficking but no explicit detail, ANGST, hurt/comfort, fluff, nightmares and flashbacks, if there were more I didn't get I'm sorry

unedited and not beta read

2.7k words

“Only two more stops, angel. Then we'll be back home." Finnick was clasping together your necklace for you as you stared blankly into the mirror. He was trying to be comforting, but it was difficult when two more stops meant he'd have to tell you soon. First you'd get through District 4, through talking about Conway, and he'd let you down when you were headed to wrap it all up in the Capitol.

“Promise?" You desperately wanted to be home, to deal with the haunting of your nightmares without having more to face every day.

Finnick couldn't really promise you'd get to go straight home after the Capitol, maybe Snow had something waiting or maybe you'd have longer to wait. So he said nothing, he offered you a small smile and kissed the top of your head. Now your innocent question left your chest pounding, why didn't he just say, yes?

“Let's go get you something to eat, angel." He offered his hand out to you which you paused before taking. There were too many secrets, you'd tried to allow him them after all he'd gone through of course he had things he still needed to process. However, this was now your life too and if they involved you then you deserved to be told. Yet you knew nothing you could say or do would convince Finnick to reveal things except his own inner clock.

“Okay." Tearing your eyes away from him as you rose from the vanity’s stool. Exhaustion was only slightly hidden in your tone.

Of course he knew why this was, besides the little sleep you'd been able to obtain between nightmares that left you sobbing into his arms, but he reasoned that currently he was doing you a favor. So he said nothing further on the subject as you walked out of the train car only awaiting the difficult day ahead.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

When your name was called in the reaping you could have sworn your heart was going to fall right out of your body. All the blood was rushing straight to your head and your body begged you to just collapse then and there. But the performance had already begun, everyone would be watching to see how District 4’s female tribute acted. Would she be cocky and strong? What about scared and fleeting? You already had to start forming an image as you walked up the stage on shaky legs.

When you saw his face as you approached the steps you could no longer push away the incoming tears from at least briefly shedding. Finnick. All he'd said he would to protect you, the poor boy who pushes you away claiming it was to keep you safe from a looming danger that he would not reveal. Eyes are windows to the soul and his showed how his heart was being violently crushed on top of the hastily thrown on bandages for its past cracks and bruises.

Maybe your eyes showed the same thing to whomever was paying attention to them, whoever was really trying to get inside this tribute’s head. Perhaps it would benefit you if they did, to be seen as a hopeless romantic needing to get home for an unseen love. Thoughts of how you would perform filled every crevice of your brain and the Capitol escort reached inside the bowl to pull out a male tribute's name.

Her voice was like a sickly, sweet syrup, cotton candy that was melting down the stick on a hot day as she let out a heavy breath into the microphone.

“Conway Delmare!” Your heart pounced up, maybe the odds were in your favor after all. Part of you wanted to shake the forming idea off, it was cruel, mean, unfair, but so is everything else, this is life and death.

He walked onto the stage with confidence and he gazed at you with pity. Pity. Is that what sealed his fate? An ‘I don't need your pity, I pity you for what I'm about to do.’ The two of you shook hands, his was firm and calloused, yours soft and fleeting. That feeling he'd always found so entrancing about you, how delicate you were with your looks, your smiles, your touch, your voice, but unbeknownst to him the same thing could not be said of the part of your soul plotting his demise.

Looks could be faked and you mustered every feeling that represented your heart's visceral reaction to Finnick straight into Conway’s deep, midnight eyes and the look he gave back to you showed that he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. So as you were led to say your familial goodbyes you began mentoring yourself on exactly how you'd already begun playing this game and your hard work would not be put to waste.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

There was only a matter of minutes before you made your grand appearance in front of District 4, in front of Conway's family and your stomach was in knots. At the time you began hatching your tactics to win you didn't have time to think about how everyone would view you for it. If the Capitol thought you were a Princess, a damsel in distress who had to fight for herself like she was in some sort of twisted fairy tale then the districts, your district saw a manipulator, a sly girl who couldn't just harm the usual way but made cuts into people's hearts. You played the game too hard and too well to be forgiven.

Heckling was something you were prepared for, you doubted the Peacekeepers would let it happen for long, but if it did you'd deserve it you reasoned. What would hurt the most would be staring at Conway’s mother who'd once made you snacks after school, his father who'd tell you fantastical stories about his job, his younger sister who wanted to mimic everything about you, and his older sister who comforted you when Finnick had broken your heart, knowing that you had exploited these relations to leave him dead in the muddy marshlands of the arena. They would resent you just as much as you resented yourself for it. There was no space in your heart to blame them for this, just mind hollowing guilt.

“You gotta stay with me, sweet girl " Finnick’s arm around your waist brought you back to the present, out of counting down the seconds until you faced the consequences of your actions.

“I'm gonna be sick." Anxiety always had you dry heaving, desperate to be free of the gnawing inside.

“No you won't. C’mon, angel, you step out there, say the speech on the card, smile, avert your eyes no matter how difficult, and then you come right back to me." His reassuring smile was usually infectious like the sunshine, like Conway’s had once been.

“He should be going right back to them, Finnick. I'm such a terrible person." You didn't realize how cold your face was until he was wiping away the tears falling.

“No you're not, that's what they want you to feel. But you're not, you did what you needed to do. It's not your fault if you decided to play smarter." Someone was shouting something and you knew it was time for you to go, to do exactly as Finnick had instructed no matter how difficult. You reluctantly pulled away from his comforting hands, “I'm not going to wipe all the tears, it'll help. Not because you're manipulative, but it shows you are how you present yourself, remorseful."

You nodded and sniffled, hands tightly gripping the card with the speech. He gave you a reassuring nod as you took slow steps to the doors, preparing to dissociate completely from the people who lie ahead. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“We should keep heading east, put enough distance between us that we can think of a plan to ambush their camp before they ambush us." Conway was leaned up against a tree as he wiped the sweat off his brow, the mugginess was making you both claustrophobic.

“I'm not sure why we split anyways, it would have been easier to take them by surprise immediately, if that was your plan." Exactly, his plan didn't make sense. It made you tense, put you on edge, which was a terrific achievement considering the current predicament.

“I told you, I heard Birch talking.” His voice was brisk, usually it was more playful. Conway usually had a tone of cold strawberries on a hot summer day, but now it was like they were just as hot and mushy as the weather.

You nodded cautiously, the tides were changing. Every vein pumping blood echoed through your head, he was off, this was all wrong. He'd checked off nearly every box you'd expected, so why was he diverging from the script now? Adrenaline was pushing through your legs, you were ready to run, it shook through your arms, he had the spear and the knives in the bag. Stupid. Too much trust and you were basically defenseless, you should have prepared for this outcome as well.

“So what's the plan until then?" Your voice exuded relief and trust, but he'd known you for too long to not notice the tapping of your foot. Signaling how ready you were to bolt if things went awry.

Conway looked down a second and scoffed, “I think you've caught onto that by now."

Just like that you were hurtling through the marsh, darting around the trees, and as the breeze screamed wildly through your hair, your jacket, everything was too loud. You weren't sure what was his pounding footsteps and what was your heart in your ears with all the overstimulation. Him screaming your name was; however, loud enough to distinguish.

He'd always been an unbalanced climber so your instincts decided to send you barreling up the nearest tree. You were too slow and his hands clawed into your legs, so you screamed and kicked, but he pulled you down regardless. Hitting your head with a thud that made all noice cease for a second. Tears filled your vision, you were desperately trying to push yourself away with your legs and forearms, but he had you pinned down.

“Did you really think I would believe you would just suddenly stop loving him? After years of me pining for you, suddenly now was a good time for you to realize you'd felt the same?" His laugh was biting and you shook your head as burning tears covered your face in desperation. He should have hit you with the spear but somewhere he'd abandoned it, you shouldn't have let the adrenaline take over because sometimes between then and now he'd grabbed the knife too. It was all so personal.

" Conway, please, it's not like that.” You thrashed wildly, digging your fingernails into his hands trying to get him to drop the weapon that with one sure slide could put an end to your backbending efforts.

" It's not like you thought I would do anything for you, even though you turned me aside for years, for him? He doesn't even want you, but you only really see me when it saves you. But it's not gonna save you this time, princess.” He jammed the knife down as you pulled your body every which way, screaming as he missed his target and landed on your side. “What did I beat you at your own game? Did you think I was dumb enough-"

Before he could finish his own screams filled the wind when you let your instincts take over, jamming your thumb into his eye. Blood poured from it as he instinctually went to cover it, you kicked him further off of you. Your eyes greedily searched for the spear as you propelled yourself off of the ground.

“Damn you!" He yelled as he tried to see through the river of blood pouring over one of them. Finally you saw the weapon he'd discarded and hastily scrambled for it. Using every concentrated muscle possible to aim it straight into his chest without pause. The impact caused his already stumbling self to crash onto his back. His cries overtook the arena and your senses were once again flooded. There was no time for sympathy when he was still breathing and eager for your cannon to go off before his, so you approached his body and pushed the spear further in. The cannon rang out and you gave an exhaustive sigh of relief, wiping your face of its grime.

There was no time to rest when you'd heard a branch snap and whirled around only to see Birch. A perfect loop for what would haunt you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

This time when you woke up it was the numbness that hit. Thinking about how the sunshine ray of a boy who'd always supported you had been snuffed away because of you. You damaged him, Conway would've been happy to live a quiet seaside life with your families, kids and candy, he was so kind until you tore it all up with that urge to win. Maybe if you hadn't been so dark and dreary to his rays of sunlight he would have happily sacrificed himself for you and sent you back with a wish to take care of his family.

All to be with the man keeping you warm and safe now, from the ghosts of your own memories. You could feel his ocean eyes boring into you as you stared at the ceiling, he probably hadn't slept at all.

“Finnick?" Your voice sounded foreign to you, it was as if you were above yourself.

“Yes, angel?" His breath fanned into your neck, his nose nuzzling into the side. It relaxed you so well that it made you feel worse. Why did you deserve that comfort?

“If this had never happened, if it hadn't been my name, would you have come back to me?" Your body was stiff and freezing. If you had broken Conway's kind, overflowing heart for this kind of love you at least needed to know the truth.

“I'm sorry, I want to keep you so safe, so above it all, but I can't anymore." Finnick shook his head into your shoulder as he sat up, taking a deep breath. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and the fact he was holding back waterworks he didn't want to show anyone. “President Snow, ever since I won-" He was getting choked up on his words and you rubbed his shoulders, trying to relax his tensed muscles. “I'm popular, my love, the Capitol darling and so he lets people buy me." Finnick's voice was so quiet it could have been snapped in half with scissors.

The courage it took for him to open up about that was unfathomable to you so you just wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. He'd left because he was ashamed, you felt bile rising in your throat, how could you have ever felt let down by him when he was battling so many demons everyday in isolation?

“Angel, I don't know what this means for you. That's the worst part, that's the selfish part. I should have given you more time to prepare, but I wanted to help you deal, but I can't.” He was crying and it was tearing your soul apart. " You deserve to know what could happen, they've already dubbed you with a nickname, you're so popular, it almost feels inevitable. Yet my heart drops in my chest every time it crosses my mind because you deserve so much better.”

You pulled your body away from his, catching his warm face in your cold hands." So do you.” It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest as you whispered this out and he embraced you once again. Pulling you back down to lie within the confines of the pillows. He would still struggle to vocalize all of his inner traumas with you, but you were a saving grace. So understanding, someone who at the end of the day he could wrap his arms around feel like he was at home with. Where he would think about collecting sea shells rather than the cruelty of the Capitol.

“I love you." He let his honeycomb voice sit in the stagnant air, but wouldn't let you respond. “I know, my love. I know, you show me all the time."

You had no clue what lay ahead for either of you, but you had each other to help, to understand, to stare at the waters of District 4 with and know in at least that sense you were safer than most.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading, comments, reblogs, likes, and feedback is all super appreciated. I have so many more ideas for Finnick but I'd been thinking about the games themselves and needed to get my thoughts out. so if you want to see more of my writing let me know!

@imaegonstargaryenswife0

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