#but he's a stupidly hopeless romantic
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Rooster: Hey dad, can I get some dating advice?
Maverick: Just because I'm with Ice doesn't mean I know how I did it.
#rooster is a hopeless romantic#so is mav#but he's a stupidly hopeless romantic#ice plans all the dates and anniversaries#incorrect top gun quotes#pete maverick mitchell#tom iceman kazansky#bradley rooster bradshaw#goose shaking his head in heaven because now bradley is telling Jake that he's lost that lovin' feeling
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‘ IT'S A MATCH: LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ! ,
profile. girl, matching with your best friend on tinder is pretty awkward. hooking up with him, even more awkward. wanna know what’s even worse though? saying that word—i love you.
wc 4.9k
warnings. fem! reader, modern au, humor, size kink, mutual pining, loser boy gojo, unprotected, cheesy pick up lines, praise, touch starved satoru, cunnìlingus, overstim, créampie, i felt silly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
an. old old draft ;') based on the song last friday night. damn!
“mannn i’m so cooked,” gojo murmurs to himself, pacing back and forth. he’s dragging his feet against the silkened strands of the carpet before a soft pout spreads across his lips. “she left me on delivered for seven minutes…… seven.”
to be fair, in actuality you did. only because you were occupied with doing your hair. gojo being gojo was freaking out, thinking you were probably uninterested. albeit, once you finally did reply, his heart nearly fell out of his chest.
‘how does 7 pm sound?’
‘soid@:$:@) good’
‘um what?’
gojo mentally smacks his forehead, stupidly mashing on his keyboard, barely even letting a second go by once you responded. he was way too eager, he intakes a sharp breath before smiling — replying with a cheesy thumbs up.
he had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. after his best friend, you, advising him to give dating apps a try, he actually does. gojo matched with a lot of women not even minutes after installing the app onto his phone. how coincidental that the main person who caught his attention was you, the both of you matched and he made sure to text you first.
who knew though. that you’d be matching with the one and only satoru gojo. definitely not you, and of course, not him.
despite what everyone said, gojo was a bit of a womanizer, sure. but he was also a huge hopeless romantic.
he started fooling around on dating sites . . not looking for love necessarily but mainly to pass time. you mentioned it to him and he decided to give it a try.
pretty soon, time flew by quick. with a quick snap, it was just about to hit six o’clock pm.
gojo threw on grey sweats and ruffled up his hair a bit. he couldn’t lie to himself, first date and he felt a bit nervous. who was he kidding though, you told him to come to your apartment.
probably wouldn’t end up being a date, but still.
he read through your bio about three times, and your personality stood out to him.
you and him surprisingly had the same interests in lots of things, you loved sweets, and loathed scary movies. “…she’s so perfect,” he’d utter to himself, just imagining the sound of your sweet voice.
gojo abruptly snaps out of his thoughts—he didn’t want be too late, so with a quickness, he starts to make his way to your house.
with hands buried in his pockets, he gives a few hard knocks on the front of your door. about approximately nine seconds later, you open the door and his maw instantly drops. “y-you?”
“hey, y—satoru?” you mimicked the same reactions
the silence was practically deadly.
the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before you furrow your eyebrows. “satoru,” you mumble, bringing a hand towards your face to rub your forehead. “…you matched with me on purpose, didn’t you?”
“wha— noooo!” he protests, a cute pout tugging against the corners of his lips. he obviously did. you eyed him from head to toe. whilst his hands were buried into his pockets, you could tell that you made him a bit nervous. a light tint of color started to flush against his cheeks before he pulls on his sweater. “heh, is it gettin' hot in here or is it just me.”
“oh my god,” you suddenly spoke. “no wonder you didn’t have a profile picture,” and then you give him an abrupt glare. “satoru. why’d you even use the kfc logo as a profile picture anyway? idiot.”
“oh— it’s a long story.”
you deadpan, mentally face palming yourself.
gojo takes a good look at you, and he’s got a sudden sheepish grin. “woah,” he utters, and his eyes linger for a long time. he’s never seen you dress in such a formal pretty way. he felt a sudden heat rush to both sides of his face before without thinking, he murmurs. “you look kinda hot.”
“kinda? now i’m offended.” you scoff, tugging on your fishnets.
“all you’re getting from me,” he fake pouts. he then comes closer, closer . . all until he’s just inches apart.
one look at your dress and he just wanted to rip it off. you and him were so attached to the hip, he’s never expected to see you in this kind of light. if you were being honest, his gaze that ran against your entire figure made you a bit nervous.
throughout your long term friendship with gojo, he was known to be flirty every now and then. you figured that was just his personality but perhaps he started to view you different. “so,” he shrugs, bending down to your level as a way of mockery, “is this the part where we hook up?”
“well technically, yeah—” and you look right into his eyes.
he was just undressing you with eyes practically, cerulean bright irises roaming down your body before he hums. “…..oh,” and he awkwardly scratches his head. “so do i make the first move or—”
“you’re such an idiot. just kiss me, ‘toru.”
he snickers, and after what seemed like forever, gojo leans in for a kiss.
he was so pretty, he didn’t even have to try. long fluttering lashes that matched his snowy white strands flap closed. gojo tasted sweet, the moment his lips went against yours, you sink into his embrace. he was surprisingly a good kisser, not that you ever kissed your best friend or anything—but for some reason, it felt so warm.
so natural…
your heart, it starts to pick up a bit and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders.
gojo let off a soft grunt, your sweet aromatic perfume wafts right into his flared up nostrils. you shiver a bit, feeling his hands slowly drag up your body. minty, a good way to describe the brief taste that loiters on his breath. he was always chewing peppermint—an unserious guy with a sweet tooth, although this time maybe his sweet tooth was for you instead of casual sweets.
the kiss was passionate, you almost forgot you were literally making out with your best friend.
you did dream a bit about this moment, him holding you all close with his lips mashed against yours. his hand continue to wander, such big hands compared to yours. you slide your tongue against his before parting your lips just a bit further.
“….mhm,” he’d huff out in a muffled groan, and he made sure to focus his hands near your hips. his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your dress before he gives it a hasty yank.
steamy breaths collide against each other whilst each second passes—eventually, gojo’s leading you toward your bedroom.
no bother in asking you where everything was since he technically knew the layout of your house like the back of his hand. “wanted to do this for so long,” he finally speaks in shortened breaths—he’s panting, and you let off a soft gasp once he lifts you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist and he slyly smiles. “you should really clean this place,” he murmurs, walking casually with you in his arms. “oh right, you can’t because you’re always at my house.”
“the point of hooking up is to not talk, satoru.”
“well excuse me,” he dramatically rolls his eyes.
at first you were a bit shy coming to the bitter realization that you ended up matching with gojo by pure luck. by now, things weren’t even that awkward—or at least awkward yet…
you didn’t wanna jinx it though, he leads you towards your bed before you plop down on your hands. you sit down, staring up at him and he starts to pull up his grey sweatshirt. you watch intensely, his abs peeking as he yanked it off before you spot a glance of his dark blue boxers hiding above his sweatpants.
so attractive . . .
you’ve seen gojo shirtless countless times but never completely nude. just imagining him, his glistening body presenting itself right in front of you… phew.
you intake a breath, mentally preparing yourself.
“awh,” he sneers, and you’re so secluded into your erotic thoughts that you don’t even realize he’s practically half naked now. all that was left was his wan-colored sweatpants. he was a tease, your eyes fixate towards his ripped chest—his abs, they were sublimely sculpted and chiseled.
sharp.
you felt like if you ran a finger down his perfectly structured v-line, you’d get a paper cut. his six pack flexed and you had to squeeze your legs shut. it was no surprise gojo had a daily work out routine. he’d even try to drag you to come with him sometimes. majority of the time, that’d go to no avail though. “enjoying the show, yeahhh?”
“shut up.” you grouse with a swift eye roll.
a smug grin curls up against his pink lips before he grabs your hand. “wanna feel me?” and you’re confused by what he wants you to feel until he makes you slowly slide your hand down his clenched pecs. you peer up at him, his body feels so warm— it was brick hard, exactly how you thought. your fingers continued to run down his ripped modeled chest before feeling against a scar. “cute fingers,” he teases, making it trail lower and lower until you spot his happy trail that was just about poking above from the very hem of his boxers. “you should pull them off of me.”
“fine,” you mutter with a puffy blow, bringing both hands towards his lower half. gojo stares, watching you pull down his sweatpants— then his briefs. you made sure to take your time, tugging on the stretchy aqua-blue fabric before within seconds, his length springs out. “you weren’t lying.”
“hm?” he says, watching your eyes continue to wander — he was definitely big, your memory suddenly refreshes of the pictures you exchanged with him, and the carpets very much did match the drapes. his shaft was . . turgid, at least the tip was. it was a pretty flashing pink, smeared with a few droplets of his own pre-cum. gojo was well trimmed, but had a few left over white specks scattered all across his base. he even had a cute mole down near the very edge of his length. specks of white hairs near his happy trail decorated his body, it was attractive. he had a left curve too, it was quite noticeable—a strikingly long vein that pulses at the sight of you, running down the very middle part of his dick and you merely moan.
as you move yourself closer, he’s stood standing while you’re sat on the bed and your glossy lips give his swollen tip a few chaste kisses.
“damnnnn,” he pants, feeling his cock twitch from the way your lips made instant contact with his tip.
the more you stared at his length from your peripherals—the more you observed its color. it had a rich rosy tan. slightly—still the same pinkish color with a brief tapered ridge. he was hefty, there was no question. inch after inch, he stood tall right in front of you. gojo claws a hand into your hair softly before sucking in his breath. “baby wait, i wanna do everything. ‘m already hard.”
you hum, amused—giving his frenulum a subtle lick before backing away, jibing out a, “oh really?” and then once he makes you lie back against the bed, you sit up with a sly grin. “do you even know how to eat pussy? and i’m not just talking about from your 'experience' from reddit or twit—”
“girl shut up,” his tone pitches an octave and it’s quite funny.
always sassy—you watch as gojo strum his fingers against your dress, taking his precious time to lift it up before feeling against your thighs. so soft, he’s always wanted to feel you—especially right here, take in every part of your curves, your gorgeous physique. his lips form into a cute scowl as he pulls you closer towards him. “i know what i’m doing.”
“yeah you do.” you sing along, and he shoots you a pout. you loved the banter between the two of you, toying along with him—he always made it so easy. it doesn’t take long before he starts peeling off your fishnets with his teeth, it was so dirty. you felt yourself throb a bit, edges of his teeth softly pricking against your skin as he yanks the thin nylon material made fishnets that stuck against your thighs.
your back lies flat against the bed and you intake a single breath. gojo rubs a hand against your tummy, you quaver a bit simply from his touch. he’s keeping eye contact the entire time too, irises never looking away for a split second—he mimics the same motion, peeling your panties off with his pearly canines.
it’s lewd, he doesn’t even pull them off all the way. instead, he just leaves it on you but has it rolled down to your thighs. “lotta back talk for a girl this soaked, to be honest.”
“ . . . . ”
you don’t reply, and he chuckles to himself. he finds your lack of an answer quite cute.
gojo stares between your parted thighs and your lips were all stretched—glistening with a sheet coat of your sweet arousal.
“so pretty,” he coos in a low voice, and you watch as he leans in—pressing a soft kiss against your entrance. immediately, his lips gets all shimmery from your own wetness and it’s hot. gojo purposely runs his tongue against his lips because he knows you’re staring directly at him. “my best friend tastes soooo sweet.”
“quit talking, ‘toru.” you moan and you don’t realize how your voice is becoming more and more shaky by the second.
“fine. fiiiiine, can’t have shit,” he grumbles playfully.
you stare as he prods two lengthy fingers against your slit. with a gulp, you prepare yourself. he gradually starts to insert two fingers inside, curling them up whilst it adapts to your warm walls and his arm shakes. “oooooh,” he whispers in a mere raspy voice. sweetened squelchy squelches came from your cunt and it was so loud it rang throughout your ears like church bells on a wedding day. “she’s quite— the talker, huhh.” he continues, and that’s right when he places his lips against your folds.
you swallow, feeling your back immensely arch from his hot lips.
gojo’s tongue swipes against your pussy. the middle part of his tongue skims down and it feels so good, he’s slow at first. he knows the exact direction to go and your toes curl. a free hand of his slides near your pubic mound, applying just the right amount of pressure—he does this so you can quickly feel your sweet g-spot. you do, and a gasp leaves your lips, it’s mindblowing.
already, he made you feel your forbidden g-spot.
you didn’t even know gojo—your dumb best friend had this kind of experience. as his palm presses down against the particular spot, his other hand is still occupied. lengthy fingers curl all throughout your walls, reaching every spot by prodding with just the right amount of deepness.
“f-fuckkk,” you whine, and suddenly your nerves make you shift your attention back towards his slick tongue. as his tongue was lolled out, a pretty clean pinkish tongue. he slithers it by using the back of his tongue, merely copying a sort of vacuuming type technique. the sounds that ran out his mouth was so filthy, your thighs start to twitch profusely and your hands found its way into his hair.
“s—satoruuu.” you’d babble and its only been a few minutes. a few long minutes, your squirming was cute to him. you tried focusing on your breathing patterns but that was no use. your mind went blank, empty like a canvas.
“mhm,” he groans, feeling himself get hard simply from your pitchy moans that reverberate and bounce across the thin walls. his fingers still went in and out of your cunt at a decent thrusting pace. the way you easily swallowed his two digits was just perfect, it didn’t take long at all for him to find your clit. “there she isssss,” he hisses cheekily, changing up his tongue strokes just a bit. it felt so good, heavenly. the way he drags it against your pussy. your jaw hung open with only sweetened sobs and whimpers leaving right past your spit-glossed lips.
whilst he’s rummaging through your vulva, he occasionally breaks away to spit right onto your cunt. it was no surprised gojo satoru was a messy man. he couldn’t help it, he’s fantasized about this exact scenario maybe once or twice. as his saliva trickles between your slit, he grunts as he watches. just all sopping wet just for him. he blows against your entrance just to make you squirm even more.
with his fingers still buried into your cunt, he does the ‘come here’ motion—a simplistically erotic motion where he uses not one but both index and his middle finger to flick back and forth inside of you. right there, oh you could have came.
“o-oh my goddd,” you whimper, his warm breath colliding against your arousal. “i-i’m close, satoru. think ‘m getting close.”
“aw,” he purrs in a sweet tone, using the flat of his tongue to lap up against your clit even further. you’re so soaked—his chin starts to drip with your slick and it’s so attractive. he pulls himself back to grin at you, a dumb pussy-drunken smile and nothing but your slick arousal running down his chin, so sheeny. “suck a little harder, she says?”
you nod, although you were sure your inevitable orgasm was quickly approaching.
your favorite part was when he sucks deeply against your clit, practically tongue fucking you. he had quite a long tongue so it did wonders, it made sure to reach every particular crevice imaginable. “nah don’t run from me now, gorgeous,” he utters sweetly once you squirm a bit more—he grabs on your hips, removing his two fingers just to hold you steadily in place. “give it to me, baby. show me how much of a messy girl my best friend can really be, huh.”
his dirty talk was just the icing on the cake. gojo’s just coaxing you towards your incoming release, all the while—it felt so good. the way your legs quavered, a trembling mess.
gojo’s holding your jerking hips against his mouth so he doesn’t miss a single taste. your mouth forms into a surprised 'o' and it’s like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment—to be fair, he could have just asked a long time ago.
he was shy though, he didn’t wanna ruin the friendship—yet now that he’s propped up between your legs, eating you out like a starved man, you don’t know how you could continue to be just friends. not in a negative way, but after this—every time you’d stare at gojo, you’d just see his face that was right between your legs that one friday night ago.
once your orgasm comes, you whimper out— a ripple surging out of you and you’re so squirmy.
it was so intense, you fell into a trance, feeling that familiar spark combust and you’re slump back. your maw still hangs open and you’re so cute—only inaudible whimpers, cacophonies of his name, the repetitive whiney, “s—satoru, ‘toru.”
his nose brushes against your entrance before he pulls away—he grows quiet for a brief moment before sitting up, you’re out of breath before he leans in for a kiss. you moan right into his mouth, running a finger down his cute undercut and that makes him whine into your mouth. his undercut, he’s always liked the feeling of you running a finger down there—it hypnotized him in a way, the entire scene was so salacious. tasting yourself on his damp tongue, your legs wrapped around his waist and his dick brushes against your parted legs.
“you’re not that bad of a kisser, you know.” gojo mutters as he finally breaks away—a stringy shiny trail of spit departs and he sits up. “why can’t we do this more often?”
“you never ask,” you breathe, still getting over your recent release—he talks so much, you almost forgot how much of a blabbermouth he was. literally seconds ago his face was buried between your thighs and now he’s rambling to you about a sale he spotted on one of his favorite candies. “. . yeah yeah, lie back now.”
he lies back against the bed and watches as you make your way towards him. he lands backwards with an ‘oof’ before raising his eyebrows in amusement. “oh? you’re gonna be on top? what if i wanted to have you bent over—”
“i’d rather die than let you see me arched over.”
“heh, woah now angel—that’s just mean. after i gave you that teeth shattering orgasm,” he says with a dramatic eye roll. you align yourself with gojo, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and for a concise moment he grows quiet. “hm. don’t really care though, you’re still hot. straddling me like this and—”
you lean forward, silencing him with a kiss because he just wouldn’t stop talking—it was cute in a way though, gojo would literally talk your ear off. he kisses back immediately, feeling you hover against his leaky tip before lowering yourself further and further down. “mhm,” you’d gasp at the current stretch. it was hard to ignore, he was big—no secret about that. due to how sopping you were, it made it easy to just sink right down. gojo’s jaw tightens as he brings a hand towards your waist, another near your ass. with a tight squeeze, he continues to fall into sinful bliss at your cunt holding him hostage. your walls hugged him tightly the more you sank down. his breath was heavy, he heaved and heaved before you’re finally all the way down.
parting away once more, he utters out a needy, “touch me.”
“ask nicely,” you whisper, starting to rock your hips swiftly in place—you were so hot, especially in his eyes. you’re so warm inside, feverish, tingly. gojo swallows thickly, a breath getting caught in his throat as his white lashes flicker towards your waist. you brush a thumb against your best friend’s lips before humming. “touch me pretty please, say that.”
“how about i tell you a joke—” he cuts off, yet moans once he feels you grind your hips in a specific rotation—so good. he’s at a loss of words before his eyebrows curl up and furrow, head throwing back in pleasure. “heh. uh, check, please! know what’s on the m-menu? me ‘n you.”
“…………………..”
“…..you’re right, i should just shut up,” he puffs out, his cheeks burning with such heat. he holds onto your hips before he swallows his pride, speaking in a cute pout whilst avoiding eye contact. “touch me pretty please.”
you smile, trading a finger down his chiseled chest—so muscular, he was perfectly sculpted.
his loved your touch, it makes him ten times harder. your fingers roam against his body and he merely folds into putty, his abs—they clench as you’re being stuffed by full of his thick inches. gojo made sure to go slow, he didn’t wanna hurt you—especially considering how big and how much of a damn packer he was. so big you almost drooled.
he was mesmerized by the way you moved, with a single pivot of your hips it didn’t take long for him to locate that spot. you moaned, feeling a surge of haziness overtake you before you lean in to kiss near the crook his neck.
“man,” he croaks, and each time he speaks—his voice gets more raspy and out of breath. “uh, keep ridin’ me like that ‘n i’m gonna die. your pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous—shit.”
again, he rambles while you’re riding him in the same constant rotation. he falls in love with the jerks, the way you grind and delve your hips even further into him.
it’s amusing to study his facial expressions though, the way his blue irises would roll back into the very depths of his cranium—his pink sheeny lips parting, even his irregular breathing patterns. he was so whiney, your cunt swallowed him whole and he starts to feel fuzzy. hot, you felt so hot inside. it merely gives him whiplash once he feels your hands trail up toward his chest. his chest, more so his pecs—abs, his nipples.
“s-sensitive there…” he pants, and with his same grip against your hips he drags you closer—back and forth, it was so slow. you’re grinding against his body and he thinks he’s feeling a certain type away. you know, that word. this entire view, seeing you top him like this—gojo was about to lose his mind, a fiery sensation pools low into his abdomen. you had him all hot and bothered, it didn’t take long before his thigh starts to bounce.
“are you?” you tease, leaning in to run your tongue against his perky nipples—oh, his reaction. it was priceless, he grips onto your hair this time, moving a few strands away from your face while you’re still riding him before he whimpers. with shaky lips, he begs for you to suck harder. you didn’t even know if he was into something like this, perhaps your best friend was a freak.
a freak in bed.
you wondered if he’d be like this if he got matched with some other random girl on tinder. being this whiney for them, but since you two were close maybe you had an exception.
“angelllll,” he drags out his words, and it’s cute. his tongue rolls a bit and beads of sweat start to race down the side of his forehead. “i’m gonna—”
suddenly, he grows quiet once his cock that was buried into your folds abruptly slips out.
he slowly looks up at you with a head tilt, and you’re staring right back up at him—he’s still panting with his hands attached to your hip. “oops,” he sheepishly laughs, trying to ignore how he was so close to shooting right inside of you. it squelched, you break away from his chest before kissing near his neck. he moans, aligning himself back against your entrance. “f-fuck that was kinda hot.”
“i can’t tell who sounds like the girl more,” you start to pant yourself, and you feel yourself coming close right with him—you briefly bite your lip before feeling such nerves sneak its way inside. his girth, it never failed to leave you speechless. with gojo, he was a bit thick but more so lanky—thin, yet he made sure to reach every crevice of your cunt. you felt him deep, the more his hold against your hips tighten—the more he’s pumping you full. you’re constantly leaning forward, cupping his face before sneaking a few kisses near the corners of his lips.
“shut up,” he rasps, and he’s close. you’re about to milk him dry—his breathing picks up and he presses his fingers right into your hips. strands of his hair runs through his face before he whines, head throwing back in pure bliss. “god, you do it so good—so good, ‘m gonna cum,” and then with pretty hooded eyes, he swallows before reaching between your legs. he runs a hand against your sopping wet cunt that was a sheer mess itself before sighing lowly, “where do you want it, angel? tell me if i should—”
“inside,” you whisper, and your voice was so close up to his ear that he could have just came from your voice and your voice alone. shivers ran through his body, your chest presses against his and he’s maneuvering quicker circles against your pussy. “f-fuck, ‘toru. ‘m gonna cum too.”
his ruffled hair was all in his face, it was cute. you’re being stuffed full—he’s so hefty you’re dizzy, approaching that release before seconds pass and you gush out. it comes out slow, a shockwave ripples out and you whimper—softly nibbling your teeth deep into the inside of his neck.
“oh f—fuckkk,” he babbles, and his voice ends up cracking, its adorable. both of his ears burn with radiating heat before he finishes, dumping a sloppy load of velvety ropes into your cunt. you literally did milk him, you bring your hips to a more slow stop—deeply grinding against him still and he slumps back. he pours so much into you he’s speechless himself, a hand hooked around your waist as you continue to swivel. “i just— i need you—shitttt.”
you stare at gojo and he’s all dumb, panting heavily. his chest heaves and tightens, loving the warmth of your plush thighs wrapping around him. “i.. i think i love you,” he abruptly says, and with his tone—it’s like in more of a question, he watches your shocked stare peer into him and he sighs. “i don’t wanna use dinder anymore, i— i just want you.”
“it’s called tinder, satoru,” you kiss near the side of his lip. “and i love you too, dummy.”
“really?” he looks at you, still smothered with a look of fatigue—he could go for more rounds but he needed a minute—plus he may or may not have a cramp in his leg. “soo when’s the wedding then?”
you deadpan and he sheepishly smiles at you, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist.
the feeling of gojo’s remains of cum just seeping down your thighs as you straddled him—still with his twitching shaft inside made you kiss your teeth a little. “i’m sure you’ll get cold feet, you’re scared of literally anything.”
“pft. girl, that’s not even remotely true. do you realize who you’re talking to?”
the arrogant gojo came back — you roll your eyes and he slyly grins, yet all the meanwhile he’s holding you close against your chest. you let him kiss you once more before you both pull away once his phone suddenly beeps.
a loud screeching notification . . you were assuming it was a text. he feels you shift a bit, turning to see what it was but pulls you closer towards him, deepening the kiss. you give up, locking your arms around him once more, preparing to start up your hips again.
oh, he tastes candied, sweet…
you moan straight into his mouth before the phone ends up beeping again and again.
consistently until it starts to get annoying, gojo grunts, departing from your honeyed lips. “who’s texting me, angel? thought i turned tinder notifications off.”
you grab his phone, it brights up from your fingertips hovering against the screen before you squint. “uh, it says . . . suguru geto?”
he repeats. “suguru ge—” and then he timorously runs a hand through his hair with a raised eyebrow. “oh. eh, what’d he say?”
you pause for a long moment before reading the message, by long—seven consecutive seconds to be exact, your lip twitching, slowly realizing as you skim through the text by this ‘suguru geto.’
“. . . he says that he had fun last night.”
“oh!”
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suna is a coward.
he should've known better than to fall in love with you, he can't recall a specific time where he started making heart eyes at you, or maybe he always made heart eyes at you, maybe he was always in love with you.
but it's not something he wants to admit, not to you or himself, he's too scared to — maybe you'll reject him, or maybe you'll take him, he doesn't know actually, and maybe he doesn't want to know.
it's not like you've made any move to show that you were interested in him, yeah sure you flirt with him sometimes, but you flirt with everyone — he's known you for years to know that it's your goofy way of being friendly.
but suna was a hopeless romantic, he dropped all of the hints he could — he made playlists for the both of you, brought you flowers he picked out himself, got your chocolates for valentines and while he knew you took it as normal friendly behavior and nothing more, he still couldn't help himself.
but why did you have to take it as just normal friendly behavior? it was infuriating.
suna really was dropping all of the hints he could and the last straw was when you asked who would he marry if he had to pick anyone and he said ‘you’.
and you still didn’t pick up what he put down.
“are you stupid or something?” he blurts out after a moment of silence and you turn to look at him, eyes wide with surprise at the sudden insult.
“what?” you utter out stupidly.
“i literally just said i’d marry you.”
you blink at him, utterly confused, “okay?”
suna wants to scream.
he blinks back, and he groans, “i can’t with you anymore.”
“rin, are you —”
“no! i am not okay,” he says, cutting you off, “i like you, you dumbass!”
“i — wha —”
“i’ve been literally dropping all the hints i could to tell you that i like you and you, god you’re so stupid and now i just said that i’d literally marry you — marry you, y/n and all you do is laugh and —”
you cut him off by grabbing his face and kissing him.
suna doesn’t register it at first, then he processes the fact that your lips are against his and he can taste the cherry balm you always put on, and he can smell your overly sweet perfume and it’s completely engulfing him and god you taste so sweet and your lips are so soft and he wouldn;t mind staying like this forever and —
you pull away.
suna is still in a shocked state as he looks at your flushed face and swollen lips as you avoid his gaze.
“i like you too, you idiot.”
#haikyuu#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#suna rintarou#suna headcanons#suna drabble#suna scenarios#suna x reader
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about you
this was a request! read it here
words: 4.3k (longest one yet ohmy)
summary: james potter takes ‘easier’ for granted and finds out he now has a living reminder of that
warnings: none! sort of au, everyone lives and they win the war— angst angst angst, maybe open ended!!! groveling james and reader is a MOTHA (afab!)
a/n: guys i missed writing angst…i’m a deeply sad soul at heart so i enjoyed this a lot. I listened to ‘night shift’ by lucy dacus writing the first half, and ‘about you’ by the 1975 for the second half,,,,, both on repeat. i don’t mean to post at ungodly hours but i hope you enjoy!
posted: 11/11/23
—-
Insecurity is an ugly thing. It tugs at your frame, holding your shoulders hostage and your countenance shriveled in a scowl as you slink forward in your seat. But what should the rational reaction be when your boyfriend, the one you’ve planned out the rest of your life with— takes you out to dinner on a random Tuesday and then decidedly backtracks on everything you’ve built together? Your ears are ringing loudly, and you dumbly ask him to repeat himself when he says he wants to take a break.
“So that’s it then. You’ve made your decision and I just have to be okay with losing a year and a half of my life because you aren’t sure if you love me?” Your tone cuts through the fraying tether that holds you two together in the corner booth.
James for once, is at a loss for words. He wasn’t really sure of what to expect when he brought you here tonight, but any reaction to his admission was bound to hurt the both of you. You had to have known about his hesitations. Graduation was three weeks away, and everything was about to change, whether either of you liked it or not. Stupidly enough, James does love you, but that’s not the problem. The proximity he’s had as Head Boy working with Lily Evans makes him wonder if the life he lives is what’s meant for him. It keeps him up at night, gnawing at his resolve and comfort in being with you. He feels ungrateful to have it so easy. Loving you is easy. But the imposter syndrome sneaks into his room late at night in the form of ‘what if’.
“I…it’s just the timing of it all. We’re about to leave Hogwarts, and I don’t want to tie you down if I know I’m unsure of my—our future.”
He reaches out to grab your hand, and many a time ago, his sense of awareness was what you admired about him. You’d both get this familiar feeling of needing comfort, and within a minute, your fingers would intuitively find the other’s like it was second nature. Now, the thought of his touch might make you break his hand off to serve on a silver platter.
“Fuck your timing. If you think it’s as easy as making the decision to just quit while we’re ahead…. I love you. Don’t you…Is that not—”
You clear your throat, the fire in your indignation being stifled by the whimpering feeling of knowing this was going to happen. The understanding of his plight, the knowing that he wants more. You could see it in the way his eyes wander when you all hang out, and you could feel it when he needs time to himself before bed, letting you back to your common room in the late hours alone. Screw your heart for appealing to his indecisiveness, his fear, when the final blow is aimed at the relationship you both once wanted together. Head Boy and Head Girl share living quarters after all. What chance did you stand against the girl he fell asleep a room away from? Maybe he dreams of her too, what you couldn’t give and what more she has to offer.
“Tell me something James,” you choke as your body heaves with something akin to nausea. Being lovesick isn’t as romantic as it seems. The hopeless feeling in your tummy throbs as you clench your fists to keep it all down.
“Whatever you want.”
His reply makes you laugh, desolation gripping your esophagus. Who knew feeling empty would feel like drowning? There is no more air left in your lungs that it almost incapacitates you, your last breath spilling out your final ask of him.
“Do you love me? What did I do?”
The noise and chatter around you seems to fall silent as he zeroes in on your face, crestfallen from the words that leave your lips. It isn’t your fault, but how can he tell you that? At 18, he’s feeling stifled by the privilege of having his life all planned out for him. He knows people spend their lives searching for contentment but James can’t decipher if he’s right for all of this pressure falling upon his shoulders. The societal heir of his father’s business empire. The face of the upcoming war, bringing in a new generation of soldiers to fight.
Deep inside, he’s a wild spirit just wanting to live, to be free. And it scares him that you’d follow him to the ends of the Earth, that there isn’t much thinking involved, just doing. The lack of autonomy stifles his soul. How does one know if they’re meant for more? James doesn’t want you to have to suffer the consequences if he can’t figure it out himself.
“I love you honey. So much it hurts me. I just wonder if it’s enough.”
Your hands clatter onto the table, bumping your half-empty pint of butterbeer as you gather your things, shoving them into your knapsack as his final blow hits your senses. And all he does is watch you, face transfixed as if he sees nothing, like he isn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.
There’s no going back after this, you think silently as you steady your trembling hands. There’s also no way in hell you’ll let him see you cry. Fuck that. Your eyes fall over the curls that drape over the frame of his glasses, his face cradled by candlelight and dear Merlin, do you love this boy. All of him, even the parts that don’t reciprocate the feeling. This is the final snapshot in your memory of him, because this fleeting moment will have to be enough.
“I hope you get everything you ever wanted James. For my sake, I hope I never hear a thing about it.”
Perhaps having the last word will absolve you of the feeling that desecrates your entire essence as you put one foot in front of the other, pushing past the door of the Three Broomsticks and out into the unknown. But it’s not enough.
—
The break in routine absolutely shatters you, if we’re being honest. A year and a half of loving him, and three more before that of liking the slow steady burn that is James Potter…. It’s like looking at the world with new eyes and this window of opportunity with graduation nearing is your chance of starting anew. There’s also the custodial aspect after the end of a relationship, and it’s hard to separate the rest of what’s yours and his in your mind. Your friends are his, and his are yours. It makes quite a predicament to not have things so easy as they consider who to eat lunch with, or who’s dorm to hang out in. Hopefully, things get easier with time but you’re not as confident as you once were.
A part of you feels like you don’t belong anywhere anymore. James is the sun, after all; a natural leader— everyone revolves around his ingenious ideas and the light he brings. He’s the one who always has a plan, and everyone follows in his stead. Where do you fit in all of that? Where do you go?
His parents are likely the loveliest people to ever grace the wizarding world. Euphemia catches you by the arm after the graduation ceremony as you’re about to take the 7th year boat back across the Black Lake. With no family in attendance and no boyfriend to dote on, niceties were expended quick enough to want to run out of there and never look back.
“Darling, are you leaving without a goodbye?” Mrs. Potter smiles, calling her husband over both with grins made of sunlight.
Somehow it resonates in your brain that it’s finally over, and your lip trembles when they pull you in for a hug that rivals your hunger to be loved. You think that even if your parents showed up today, it wouldn’t have felt this kind.
“Congratulations dearest! We’re so proud of you,” Fleamont rumbles, a big man with an even bigger heart as he brandishes flowers out of thin air to hand to you daintily. You’re going to miss them terribly. Is it wrong to want more of this? But you remember why it’s not as James’s cologne floods your senses and his silhouette creeps into your periphery. Your smile grows smaller as you two stare at each other and breathe the same air for the first time in almost a month. Whatever’s thrumming in your being, he holds the key to. Mr. and Mrs. Potter try to loop you into a photo together, the magical kind that moves to capture a memory so intimately but both of you stand perfectly still as his and your hesitant dismissals go unheard.
Loving hands fuss over both your caps and the way hair sticks out until you feel your shoulders jostle together for a moment and his hand lands on the small of your back. The flash goes off as you two look at each other in something that still resembles love. You can’t unlove him, not in a day, a month, or ever, you think. Not if you’ve bared your soul to him, even if he hurt you.
You look away first, urging your heart to come back to reality. He’s not yours anymore, and you still love him. Alice told you earlier that he asked Lily out on a date for next Tuesday. What you were supposed to do with that information you’re unsure, but the feeling in your belly helps you say goodbye to the Potters, and clarify that they can keep the picture since you’re not James’ girlfriend anymore. An awkward silence settles over all four of you.
Euphemia rubs your cheek, hushed promises of keeping in touch while Fleamont looks at his son in confusion. James’ hand flexes in the absence of your body against his. He simply watches you walk away again, alone, while he’s surrounded by his friends and his family. The beating of a tiny heart matching your own as you hop onto the boat proves otherwise.
—-
A baby.
You think back to when it must’ve happened, the weekend before that Tuesday, when everything still felt right. With your last exams of your academic career finally done, both you and James were tangled in his silk sheets until dawn, an amalgamation of passionate whispers and lingering touches you could still feel in the days that followed. As you stared at the flutter of his eyelashes and relished the way he pulled you closer in his dream state, you were quite sure that he is, too, tangled within your soul to let go. That your doubts were residual anxiety from preparing for the future. For the first time in a while, you were reaffirmed that the boy sleeping next to you was your forever. Not being careful was a consequence of feeling safe in his arms, and subconsciously, you both hoped that everything would work itself out. As you walked out of the Head Students’ Lounge past noon with James’ hickeys as a necklace and donning your boyfriend’s shirt, you noticed the blush on Lily Evans’ face. You were just so sure, but that felt like forever ago.
Your parents weren’t happy when they came back from their business trip two months after graduation to find you four months along with a prominent bump and filled with so much fear. All plans of getting a job, of moving out, and joining the Order were now replaced with the startling fact that you are 18 and don’t have a single clue on what to do next. Your childhood bedroom feels smaller tonight, with both your parents standing at the door, all of you unsure of what to say. You can’t remember the last time they tucked you in, but as your dad takes a seat on the edge of your bed, it seems possible that maybe you won’t be alone in all of this.
“Whatever decision you make will be the right one, sweetie. If you love that baby, then we do too,” he sniffles, and you don’t recall having ever seen him this emotional before. One thing you are sure of, is this baby is loved, and made from love. The next is that England is not a safe place to raise your baby.
Somewhere far away, in a hidden place guarded by some of the most experienced wizards, the Order of the Phoenix meets again to determine the future of the wizarding world. James’s eyes dart back and forth from the door to whichever adult is talking about the next mission. You didn’t show up again. All of the meetings so far where he was always the first one to arrive and the last to leave in hopes of getting a glimpse of you, and you never showed. There’s a deep worry that haunts him as the months pass by, and he knows that it would be easy to send you a letter, or to show up at your door, but he’s probably the last person you want to see.
“We’re going out for a pint, you ready to leave James?” Lily whispers into his ear, arms curling around to his chest. But he’s not ready at all, sat on the sofa with his eyes on the door, just in case. Trying to love someone who’s still in love is a losing battle, Lily thinks, as she watches her boyfriend look like a child missing their favorite blanket. But in a war like this one, no one would be foolish enough to decline company.
“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, leaning back to kiss her cheek. It’s cruel to both of them, the way he’s acting knowing that Lily won’t ever be you. Every chance he gets to have a moment to himself, he thinks of the despondent look on your face as you walked away from him and his parents that day. No more anger at all, no biting words or the fighting spirit that he knows and loves. Both of you just accepted what was to come.
Sirius and Remus approach him later after everyone’s left that they got word that you moved to America. He thinks of what could’ve been, and the thought of your safety is the only thing that lets his mind rest as guilt pushes and pulls at his heartstrings like waves.
He’s spent these months fighting in the war, loving and losing that he thinks this isn’t anything like the white house and picket fence fantasy you both used to cook up. As he grabs his coat to leave, James wonders if by being away from all of this you’ll get to live the life you want.
—
“Okay honey, hold on tight to mama.”
Your little boy was almost bouncing off the pavement with a chocolate covered grin, and it makes you laugh harder than it should. Maybe Florean Fortescue’s was not the way to start off your son’s first trip to Diagon Alley, but your new job at the Ministry starts tomorrow and you’ve been missing your favorite stationery. The town was packed with people with the war having ended and trying to start anew. You haven’t seen any familiar faces and maybe years ago that was a bad thing, but hope spreads over Diagon Alley with strangers smiling at Christopher as he skips on the cobblestone, almost tripping over his own feet at the entrance of Flourish and Blotts.
He runs forward to explore the store as you smile at your creation, letting him wander along the aisles as you have done years before. Being back here is like walking through a memory, and though it used to be home, you know yours is walking around in tiny bright red shoes that light up like his smile. Your fingers flip through the different quills and parchment on display, and after finding everything you need, you hear your son’s laughter in the opposite corner of the shop. Motherly instincts always prevail as your feet guide you to the sound of his voice, since he’s never been one to shy away from a friendly conversation.
“Did you find everything you were looking for, honey?”
James’ head whips up from the tiny boy he was entertaining with color-changing quills to see you, and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose to make sure he’s seeing properly. The both of you go quiet as time stands still, with Christopher chattering at your feet.
“Mama! Look at this one, it goes rainbow!” he says, tugging at your coat to see the quill in James’s hand. The pieces start to fit together in James’ mind, looking at your pursed lip, then to the sight of this boy smiling with the innocence he had a lifetime ago. This boy, his son, has your eyes. You shake your head rapidly as he intakes a breath of air.
“Honey?” he whispers, knowing that was his name for you.
“So what, he looks like a honey,” you say defensively, grabbing your son’s hand.
He looks like my son, his eyes say—both of you look down to the child who’s all grins and none the wiser piping up.
“My name’s Topher!”
“Yes it is, and now it’s time to say goodbye to the nice man, okay?” Topher pouts and looks up at his father without even knowing it, handing him the quill.
“Keep it. I’ll pay for it, and then you can write to me,” he says almost desperately, losing grip of everything that he’s been trying to convince himself for the past 7 years.
“Don’t be weird, Potter. Don’t…” you shake your head, eyes misting over. Seeing him again brought back everything. It was already overwhelming to have a kid that’s almost the splitting image of him, to learn of a love so pure after one that’s wrecked you to your core, but being here, within arms reach… You’re 18 again and scrambling away from the corner booth trying to get away from the man you love most not wanting you in return.
“Honey, why don’t you give us a minute to talk? Go find me some cool enchanted stickers for me to bring to work tomorrow, okay?” Your baby runs off without even questioning it, his sense of adventure also inherited from his father.
“I’m…so sorry.” James moves closer to you, and you take a step back sighing humorlessly.
“For what? He’s an amazing kid. Even though… he wasn’t planned, I don’t think I could ever see my life turning out any other way.” You shift your weight to your other foot. He looks, successful, if that’s something he would be proud of. He’s wearing an impressive suit, and his eyes are a bit hardened by the past few years, but his charisma, his smile…. He’s still the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.
“I feel foolish. I was so scared to live my life and then here you are raising our child…”
You blink softly at his words, and it reminds him of your youth, all doe-eyed and full of want. You used to want him like he still wants you. In front of him is a grown woman, a mother who’s strong and filled with memories and love that he should’ve been a part of.
“Things happen for a reason, James. We both did what we had to do.”
His hand brushes yours, and you realize you’ve been without his touch for 7 years. 7 years of being scrubbed clean of James Potter, and not a single regenerated cell in your body has been touched by him. But your son is of him, so you think that no matter how this ends, there will always be a part of you that loves James too.
You extend an olive branch to have him come to your apartment this weekend and get to talk. He knows he doesn’t deserve this kindness, but you know he deserves to meet his son.
—-
The doorbell rings and you take a deep breath as you open the front door, looking up at him holding a teddy bear for Topher.
“He’s still down for a nap. Let’s go sit in the den.” You say quietly. The hallway is filled with pictures of your boy, and of you in different stages these past few years. He stops at a portrait of your parents with Topher being swung between them.
“Your parents….”
“Were supportive; I wasn’t alone,” you muse, knowing he knows of your strained relationship with them back then.
“They actually just retired early last year. Overworked themselves and finally comfortable, so they help out when they can. What about yours?” Trying to make conversation with your ex is terribly hard, but it’s in good spirit and there’s not much to do until Topher wakes up.
“They passed, actually. Mum at the end of the war, and dad 6 months after. Never wanted to be apart, you know that.”
Your face falls at his revelation, “I’m sorry for your loss. They were amazing people. Taught me what it meant to be a parent, for sure.” Amicable silence fills the living room before you clear your throat.
“I have to be blunt, James. What do you want from this? You must be married and busy, so if Topher can’t fit into that….”
“I’m neither of those things, honey. I want to try and see where this goes,” he says scratching the back of his neck.
Your heart stops at his endearment, catching yourself looking at him seriously.
“You can hurt me, but I’m not letting you do that to him. Back then, you were all I ever wanted love to be. And then I had my beautiful baby, and I suddenly knew my love meant more.”
“I never wanted to hurt you. It was a mistake, because I was too proud to accept that I had it good. That what I had was meant for me.” James grabs your hands, begging for you to understand. The lost boy he was is a lifetime away from the man sitting in front of you now. Though it’s touching, you keep your heart guarded because the little boy sleeping down the hall is your biggest priority. You hope he can understand that too.
“He’s not a placeholder for your dreams of wanting a family. You have to build that, I did that myself. I’m not going to let you string him along and then once you have a family of your own, you just up and leave.”
“I know. I was hoping the both of you could be my family, if you give me the chance.” You bite your lip as your thumb runs against his. It’s easier to forgive than to forget. But for Topher’s sake, you can try.
“Tell me something James,” you whisper, having needed to know this for the past 7 years.
“Why did you throw it all away? Was the idea of loving me…so terrible?” He tilts your chin up, and you think that the earnest look on his face is the closure you needed to properly forgive him.
“I’ve never stopped loving you. Loving you is the best part of knowing you. Do you think I ever forgot about you?” He chuckles lowly, brushing back a strand of your hair, and you think this could be dangerous if you let yourself get too close.
“I’ve thought about you everyday for the past 7 years, I just didn’t think I deserved you after everything I’ve done. I was so stupid, I am still. But I’m trying to be better.”
“You think of me but dreamt of her. Was it guilt?” Your hand grabs his as you move it away from your cheek, settling onto your lap. The air around you is suffocating.
“It took time for me to figure out that it was intention. Lily was a distraction. You’ve consumed me since the day I met you. My dreams, my thoughts… All of it is you. I choose to think about you as much as I can, because if I didn’t I was scared I’d forget all the good things about us back then.”
You both hear a thump from your son’s room and realize you’re wiping tears away. James stands up when you do, and both pairs of your socked feet pad closer to your son’s room.
“We start this slow. We make decisions together, and if there’s any inkling I get that he doesn’t want this, it’s done. You understand?” Your hands are firm on the doorknob as he’s standing close behind you, hanging onto every word.
“Every word. There’s no turning back from this.” He wants to ask another question, but before he can, your hand unconsciously finds his and your grip is so comforting that he notices himself sniffle.
“If it all goes well, and if you want, we can try again. But that’s in the far distant future, James Potter.”
“Anything you want, honey. That’s the future I’ve been dreaming of.” With you. Your lips quirk into a smile as they brush against his cheek.
Slowly opening the door to both watch your son wake up from his nap, your hand pulls James into the room behind you. Quietly, he sits on the edge of Christopher’s bed, and when his son looks up at him, you both notice the little boy beaming like the sun.
—-
“Everything you love is very likely to be lost, but in the end, love will return in a different way.” -Franz Kafka
taglist: @jsjcue
love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing:
night shift by lucy dacus & about you by the 1975
#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders era#james potter x reader#marauders x reader#james potter x reader angst
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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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— 🤍 ⋆⭒˚。⋆ (part two to stupidly in love with you)
⟡ summary: after being banned from the next match, jude decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. as you accompanied him on his way home, he shared something with you.
⟡ content: friends to lovers, very fluffy, mentions of kissing, no cliffhanger this time, around nine hundred words.
⟡ streaming: better by zayn.
⟡ masterlist, part one, part two.
escorting jude back to his home was quite tiring and draining. it felt like you had walked for ages until you finally managed to get him to bed.
jude quickly fell asleep, dozing off as soon as his head touched the pillow. you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sound of his snores, although it quickly faded as you noticed the mess in his room.
being someone who values cleanliness, you promptly began tidying up jude’s room, making sure to be as quiet as possible. you didn’t want to risk waking him, especially considering how intoxicated he was. you didn’t want him to start rambling endlessly again.
after folding the last of the numerous t-shirts strewn on the floor, you closed the closet and were just about to leave his room when jude unexpectedly grabbed your wrist as you walked by the bed.
you were taken aback as jude quietly uttered, “don’t go..”
you couldn’t fathom how jude had sensed your intention to leave, but you knew he wouldn’t provide a clear explanation as he was about to drift off to sleep again.
“uhm, jude, i need to head home. it’s really late.” you whispered, trying to gently release his hold on your wrist, but was left astonished by his strength even in his drowsy state.
jude struggled to contain his emotions and actions, but he was certain about one thing - he wanted you to stay with him. he longed for your presence, not just tonight, but every night.
“don’t leave, please..” he murmured, his eyes opening to reveal a pleading gaze that instantly melted your hopeless heart.
jude was your achhilles’ heel, and you despised the power he held over you.
typically, you wouldn’t hesitate to share a bed with jude. it had occurred a few times during your friendship, like on vacations or when he traveled for football.
however, this time was different. because this time he confessed his feelings for you.
but, seeing him so vulnerable was agonizing, and it pained you physically.
in a moment of weakness, you gave in, sighing as you slipped under the covers. thhe warmth from both the blanket and jude’s body heat enveloped you.
he wasted no time in clinging to you and you made no effort to push him away, exuding excitement like a little boy who had just been given candy. your heart started racing, and heat crept up your cheeks. there was no way you could drift off to sleep in this state.
the room fell into a brief silence before jude broke it, his voice sounding more alert. “i wasn’t lying, you know... when i said i love you.”
his voice resonated with such sincerity that it tugged at your heart. as you lay on your side, your gaze fixated on the man who held your deepest affections. the intensity in his eyes implored you to trust him, to believe in his words.
curiosity compelled you to pose a question, testing the depths of his emotions. “when did you first realize that you loved me?” you inquired.
without hesitation, jude responded with unwavering honesty. “i’ve loved you for longer than i care to admit, y/n. perhaps it was that night we spent together in greece, or the time you told me i was the one you trusted most. but i was afraid of ruining what we had, or lose you, so i kept my feelings to myself.”
his heartfelt admission crashed over you like a powerful wave, leaving you stunned and overwhelmed. your cheeks flushed, and you found it difficult to maintain eye contact, fearing that your emotions would be too transparent.
for years, you had convinced yourself that jude would never view you in a romantic light.
he had been involved with other women, introducing you to so many that you had lost all hope for a romantic connection between the two of you.
the realization that jude reciprocated your feelings brought both a sense of bliss and trepidation. it was a mix of emotions - the joy of knowing that you no longer had to conceal your love, and the fear of what this newfound vulnerability might entail.
“you won’t ruin or lose me,” you assured him, reclaiming your gaze and locking it with his. determined to convey your reciprocal feelings, you boldly caressed his cheek, bridging the distance between your lips.
a sudden hitch in his breath revealed his anticipation and exhilaration coursing through his veins.
“you’ll always have me, jude.” you whispered before finally uniting your lips with his, cherishing the electrifying sensation that passed between you.
jude’s initial surprise quickly faded as he responded with equal fervor. he settled the rhythm of the kiss into a tranquil and unhurried rhythm, as if he wanted to savor every moment. it became evident that jude had no intention of letting you slip away after this. he was determined to make you his, forever.
the sensation of his lips against yours surpassed any expectations you had. it felt like pure bliss, surpassing even your wildest imagination. in this moment, you wished that time would stand still, never allowing you to return to a time before experiencing the euphoria of his kiss.
with a gentle separation, you finally uttered the words he longed to hear:
“i love you too.”
jude’s face broke into a triumphant grin, his heart leaping with joy. he had sensed your reciprocation from the moment your lips met, but he couldn’t contain his excitement.
lovingly pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose, he responded with a tender smile, “i know, baby. i know.”
#trentsgirl—work! 🪐⋆。°✩#fanfic rec🦢#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#football#football smut#football imagine#football fanfic#football x reader#football players#football x y/n#soccer imagine#soccer#football fluff#football angst#england football#football fantasy
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Wanna ask if you have any headcannons for aventio modern au
( cause I am obsessed with modern aus)
hellyeah brother i'm here to serve the masses
hcs about ratio:
still a doctor still has 8 phds
knows about student debt and hates it with a burning passion
has a duck keychain that he puts on his keychain with all of his keys like the keys to his house
once crushed a soda can in his hands during his student years bcs he was that fucking mad about the homework questions not being stated in a clear manner (he just like me fr)
has several duck plushies in his bed and theyre all named after either greek philosophers or roman politicians
can speak latin fluently and mutters curse words and creative expressions in latin during the classes that he teaches because he is that pissed off
used to be a full time doctor, but decided to turn to teaching instead after some time
hyper-empathy due to childhood neglect (he just like me fr)
eyebags that he covers up with makeup, he still has those from his student years and cant fucking get them to leave no matter how many hours he sleeps for
enjoys occasionally a rum & coke
really likes lattes and london fogs
had a british accent once because he travelled to the uk and picked up on it, when he came back he was mortified
fucking loves ducks so much he has a camera roll dedicated to duck photos
he got to pet a duck once he was happy for the rest of the week thats how much he loves them
massive nerd & dork
undiagnosed autism with a side of gifted child trauma
really likes jazz and lofi it calms him down fast and makes him happy
wrings his hands when he's really happy
touch starved
makes really good soup
hopeless romantic
more mentally unstable than you think he is. he is actually suffering from burnout but doesnt want to let people around him down.
doing his best. sometimes on the weekends he just nestles into a cocoon of blankets and refuses to leave. texture....
cannot not wear socks he will die without them
cat magnet for some reason??? all neighbourhood cats are at his doorstep even when he and aven already have three. ig hes just cat dad now
aventurine hcs:
still has those glasses, his eyes are more sensitive to light too
really fucking likes fluffy stuff he loves the fluffy he loves the fluffy he-
big fan of sheep and peacocks
eternally terrified that ratio secretly hates him even when they start dating
bpd & adhd & probably autism (ALL BPD HAVERS FUCKING WIN WITH THIS ONE!!!!! I SEE YALL)
masks so often its insane
used to smoke and drink heavily, but has started to lay off ever since he met ratio
still an adrenaline junkie and still has his stupidly good good luck
really likes coffee too, coffee addict, has horrible eyebags, a shitty sleep schedule, and overworks himself half to death
cant fucking cook what the hell is a kitchen
very fond of stelle/caelus and sees them as his surrogate younger siblings. stelle taught him how to play video games and now he plays with them whenever his thoughts get really bitchy to him
horrible at relying on other people but is slowly unlearning that
can do a backflip (why? idk)
high pain tolerance
has a collection of sheep plushies that his friends bought for him
numby and him get along really well. he and topaz still have that sibling esque relationship.
i think he still works for the ipc in this au but its not as bad as it is in canon
starved of touch and does not really know what a healthy relationship is before ratio comes along
loves blankets he has like ten blankets on his bed at once idk why
once poured monster energy into coffee and then drank it. he suffered the consequences. even good luck can't save you from that
listens to generic pop (lie. he actually loves indie guitar)
MENTAL ILLNESS REP IN THIS MAN
accidentally big brothered some kids. help how does he deal with affection
buys stuff for stelle and caelus too. he buys them sheep plushies. they will defend said sheep plushies with their lives. they buy him racoon plushie in return. he does not cry.
his fingers shake so bad sometimes (PTSD goes hard)
motor skills can and will die on him occasionally
unhealthy coping mechanisms but hes getting better guys
he does relapse occasionally but hes putting in effort. finally got his ass to therapy thanks to ratio :)
second cat dad. he loves his cat children he will die for his cat children.
the cats like laying next to him as he eeps if ratio isnt there. they purr and help him with his nightmares.
(ily people w bpd you deserve this rep!!! enjoy :3)
them together hcs!!!!
ratio already had background information on bpd due to his psych degree beforehand but did more researching into it when he realized that aven had bpd because he wanted to support his partner as much as he could :)
ratio is big on physical touch but aven needed some time to get used to it and he was very big on it
aven really likes spoiling the absolute shit out of ratio and likes getting him gifts because sometimes he doesn't know how to word how much he appreciates ratio
aven likes to wash ratios hair for him and visa versa, non sexual intimacy always fucking wins
ratio still worries about aven and doesn't like him gambling all the time, aven makes an active effort to better himself for him even if it's really hard
at the start it was really fucking shitty between the two of them but eventually aven started to learn how to properly and safely communicate with ratio and ratio learned how to phrase his thoughts in a way that wouldn't trigger something, and although they both make mistakes they are doing their best for one another and generally have a good impact on one another's stages of healing (im not projecting im not projecting i-)
aven will hold ratio in his arms and tell him that he's good enough when the thoughts get really bad
they love cuddling, who's big spoon and small spoon switches regularly because they both like being held and holding the other
aven will stop by ratio after his classes and take him home when hes too tired
ratio shuts down sometimes and aven messes with his hair and just stays with him until he reboots
they kiss <33333333333
they cuddle so much they hold one another going to bed
ratio likes giving aven little headkisses and peppers his face with them
they are gay and in love and healthy actually
they were never toxic yaoi never will they be. they are healthy.
they get married <333
this is so much more than what you asked for probably but here you go.
#aurae answers#hsr#hcs#dr ratio#aventurine#aventio#ratiorine#modern au#cat dads#they are cat dads#aven has bpd#fight me#i will die on this hill#my partner has bpd and they deserve this rep#healthy relationships#BECAUSE THEY ARE HEALTHY#FUCK YOU
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jay 7 please;/
𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮
𝐏.𝐉𝐒.
SYNOPSIS: going on a movie date with jay was the perfect way to end your first meeting with him, minus the winter weather and missing half the movie because of the beauty next to him.
WARNINGS: gn!reader, first date, jay leaves for a minute, they are smitten for each other, nothing but pure fluff 🥹, hopeless romantics, nothing really to warn about just really cute
WC: 472
^^SFW BELOW CUT (not proofread)
The decision to go on a date during a storm may not have been the best idea, but in your defence, when you left the house, the weather was still warm. Throughout the movie at the cinema, Jay couldn't help but notice how you shivered in your seat. His attention was solely focused on you rather than the film playing on the screen. As the credits began to roll, you didn't even wait to see if there was an end credits scene. Instead, you impulsively grabbed Jay's slightly calloused hand and dashed out of the freezing room, looking like two teenagers deeply and stupidly in love.
“I’m kinda hungry you know” You absently scratched the back of your neck. You glanced at the snacks section knowing full well that they were overpriced but despite this you were more than willing to pay extra for anything to warm you up inside and out. Walking over, you turned to see if Jay was coming with but instead he handed you his card with a smile “if you don't mind could you get me a warm tea or hot chocolate if they have any?” he asked, you replied with a nod as he strolled towards the exit.
"Hey, Jay?" you called after him, watching as he turned on his heel with his hands in his pocket. "Where are you going?" "I'm just going to the car. I'll be right back!" he called over his shoulder proceeding to walk out the exit, leaving you alone standing in front of a tired barista who seemed to be counting the minutes until the end of their shift. "Hi!" you greeted them with a smile, feeling a bit unsure of what to order.
After what felt like several minutes you double scanned the tea section of the menu to see what jay would like until you decided on buying a cinnamon apple tea and a triple hot chocolate, that way Jay could choose what he'd like. Luckily he came back just a mere minute before your orders were complete. As you took your drinks from the counter he chose the tea and complimented your taste. On the way out you felt his hand wrap around yours as he led you to his car.
"Why did you go to the car?" you asked. "You were shivering all throughout the movie and I didn't bring a jacket, so I left a bit early to turn the heater on. I was thinking about how I didn't bring a jacket, and then it hit me - I'll warm up the car for you." Even though you were freezing in the parking lot, you couldn't help but stop and admire Jay's enthusiasm and kindness.
That night you realised that even with the cold surrounding you, Jay could warm you up with just his actions.
I love this request so much, the hopeless romantic in me is SCREAMING 😭💟
#jay x reader#jay soft thoughts#jay soft hours#park jongseong#enha jongseong#enha jay#enhypen jay#jongseong x reader#enhypen fluff#jay fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts
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in need of nurturing care so how about giving pleasure-dom matthew your first blowjob and you’re very self-conscious of it because it’s your first time? :( 🧸
cw: insecure reader, not kinky just lovey, hopeless romantic soulmate descriptions because i’m needy, and picturing s2e7 manspreading in black boxers matt so i think it deserves a warning
—
matt was many of your firsts, and he found that to be a pretty big deal. that was a subject that made you overthink sometimes: he’s a handsome man, with a successful job and incredibly charming techniques. what impossibly high standards could be implied to you?
but it was all in your head. he didn’t see it as a big deal in the way you did. judgy. on the contrary, he was extremely proud of it, wanted to make it special, perfect, and secretly got himself off multiple times to the very possessive thought of you being only his.
he knows what you want and he promised he’d let you, but before that, you are kissed all over. he needs to make you cum first, it’s like his personal mission. some could say selfish, he’d describe it as essentially urgent. (using his arrogant lawyer voice). it’s only after he’s satisfied with you that he lets his guard down and stops controlling you so much. finally. he scoots to sit against his bed’s headboard, deliciously shirtless like you asked him to begin with. stubborn is an understatement.
but it’s very romantic when he gives you head pats and guides your pretty mouth all over him. there’s not much to be done since he’s been hard way before he started with you, so, just placing a kiss over his belly button, your fingers go to his boxers as you slide them down, appreciating the clapping noise of his dick softly slapping his stomach free that you always happen to enjoy way too much. you’re salivating, getting your prize after so much. with half-opened lips, you lead your face to his crotch, quietly admiring how good it looks this up close.
he squirms when you’re so near to him that your hot breath hits the his tip, and he can’t help but take his hand from the bedsheets to your cheek, caressing you with his thumb. it feels comfortable lying on your stomach, right between his legs, almost like a sense of belonging. maybe that’s how he felt too, and it’s why he likes eating you out so much. guided by his gentle hand, you put your mouth on him, wrapping his length around your soft lips while your palms rest on his thighs. your heart rate couldn’t be any higher, and tasting him made you feel like you could sense your pupils dilate.
but it doesn’t take long until you’re almost crying because you’re sure you’re doing a bad job. it doesn’t feel like you’re doing it right. when your teeth accidentally touch him, you cringe at yourself stupidly hard. why would you insist on doing something you’re not even remotely good at? would it be more embarrassing to give up now, or to continue for god knows how long, since he definitely would not be cumming any soon? you’re confused about why matt doesn’t seem to think the same, moaning hoarsely, head thrown back to the headboard as the hand once innocently on your cheek is already in the back of your hair.
there’s potential, you think. what if practice makes it perfect? maybe everyone is this bad on their first time. you continue, trying to take more of him little by little. he feels even bigger like this. in your mouth. maybe not quite as big as when he pounds into you when you’re spooning, because that’s a whole other level of tightness. but he is large enough for you to make a mess, the result of it being the combination of your saliva and his precum dripping down your chin, that you quickly try to wipe off, so embarrassed you might look disgusting or ugly. it’s an irrational thought, of course. both because you know he can’t actually see you, but mostly because he would not think that of you even in his wildest thoughts. yet it’s an idea you can’t let go of, drowning in all of your ‘what ifs’.
your brain is so focused on your worries it goes by unnoticed that matt felt one little bit of your drool you failed to wipe off wetting his inner thigh, and that alone made his cock throb. he loves this. oh, only if you knew how much. he’s holding himself back, honestly. giving all of his self-control to not just let the devil out, thrust into your throat until the room is filled with the sounds of you gagging on him. he doesn’t, and his strong legs tremble, practically agonizing because he doesn’t. but that’s not important now; until you feel secure enough for him to do otherwise, he knows he has to be gentle to you.
the problem is that matt didn’t expect it to feel like this. so intense, relieving and so extremely intimate. it never did. he did get blowjobs from other women before, and it wasn’t like they were bad, but, compared to this – compared to you – oh, lord. if you could read his thoughts, all your doubts would dissolve. you didn’t have to, though, not when he could tell you about them. all of them. yeah, he made a mental note to praise you endlessly once you were done and just pray you’re not bored of hearing him yet.
the truth is that everything with you felt unique to him. how after your first kiss, he couldn’t stop thinking about your taste or the specific, adorable way he heard your heart picking up. he remembers how fast his was beating as well, even more than yours, but it is something he’d let out of the story. he is mesmerized by how easy it is to fall asleep by your side and by that invigorating feeling he has had every morning since you started dating. by how his wounds don’t hurt as much when he comes home to you and rests in your arms. by how he isn’t able to take his hands off of you in public, like to show you off. always interlocking your fingers together, guiding you by pressing his palm on your lower back, making you hold on to his biceps to walk down the streets of new york. by how, for the first time in his life, he feels like he isn’t being judged for revealing his flawed self, and knows he could tell you everything, anything.
now you regret not doing it sooner, having your mouth all over him. but matt wouldn’t really allow it until you convinced him of it tonight. he’d say you didn’t have to, that he enjoys giving and it doesn’t have to be the other way around, brushing it off with a cocky smirk like you weren’t dying to try it yourself, even if you were scared.
he would distract you from objecting by burying himself deeply in your warm cunt or making you ride his face, rubbing his big nose on your clit and pumping his tongue in your entrance until you were creaming all over his mouth. it always worked, no matter what technique he used. and it did feel good each time, but also felt frustrating to not be able to pleasure him the way he always did with you.
it was all because he wanted to do right by you, all because he cares so deeply. the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like you were being used, taken advantage of because of your inexperience. it couldn’t be further from the truth. he never really said it because he judged it unnecessary to worry you about it, but your insecurities related to intimacy in general and, maybe, especially intimacy with him, didn’t go by unnoticed, of course not. matt is attentive, and even more to the things he loves.
he is also a really stern, strict man. he analyzed the situation, observed it. created in his head his own codes about you. we know how serious he is about his self-imposed vigilantism morals, so it wouldn’t be any different with his relationship with you. it doesn’t matter that he is kinky, that he’s dying inside to tie your wrists and mark you for everyone to see. it doesn’t always have to be this way. not in the beginning, and not with you. if he’s gonna have to wait, to take his sweet time with you, he is genuinely more than content to do so.
meanwhile, it suddenly feels so good sucking him off that it makes you stop overthinking. in fact, it makes you stop thinking at all. he is pulsing and is so warm, soothing. his thick length fills your mouth perfectly and it’s not even all the way in. your jaw feels more relaxed now, your brain is all scrambled, your eyes are teary, your pussy is wet once again and you feel dumb. it’s like everything else disappears, leaving to existence only those fuzzy, nonsense thoughts about the enticing taste of his cock.
but there’s this one thing you remember and that somehow you can think of, maybe because you have seen it everywhere, maybe because it was kind of instinctive: wrap your hands around what you can’t fit. yeah, that sounds about right! so you do, and start stroking the base of his dick while your tongue sucks on his pink, leaking tip.
you didn’t expect it to work, so you flinch in surprise when his large hand on the back of your head instantly grabs your hair with a loud groan. he lets go of it in the next second, shakily caressing your hair like to silently apologize. silently. he is being so weirdly quiet. well, not literally quiet, since he actually can’t stop moaning, but he isn’t saying anything, which is unusual. one of your favorite things about sex with matt was just how much he talked you through it each time: praising, teasing, encouraging you to talk back. but if you opened your eyes and looked up to him you’d find the explanation to his behavior, realizing he actually doesn’t seem to be able to form a proper sentence.
you wondered how intense it felt for him, with all of his senses, to be touched like this. your free hand slid up from his thigh to his lower stomach and you felt just how tense he was. contracting all his muscles in there, his body was rigid. and red. his cheeks were pink and his lips were plumped, moist, and painted ruby. on his collarbone, above where his largest scars lay, he was blushing. and his belly, under your hand, was covered in flushed spots. it wasn’t uncommon for his fair skin to be affected by you, but it’s only now you actually notice it, since the other times you were mostly too busy having your brains fucked out.
you also notice his moans get louder. how much you loved hearing them. you must be doing at least some good then. well, that’s if matt murdock isn’t nice enough to fake it. but men can’t fake, it, right? you snap back to reality, noticing you started grinding yourself against the silk sheets as you suck him off, only when he begins to continuously whine your name, the first actual word he spoke in the last minutes. his dick starts to repeatedly twitch against your hand and mouth, just like you would feel inside of you right when he was about to finish.
his hazel eyes roll to the back of his head and his hips buckle up, accidentally forcing his tip inside your throat. you didn’t think it was possible to go so far, and it obviously makes gag on him, a tear rolling down your cheek, but you never felt better. he grunted and moaned the words out. they were messy, and you were messy, but somehow you could understand the strangled “i love you” that left matt’s lips.
when his cum spurts warmly down your throat, you don’t quite know if you had underestimated your performance or if he just unconditionally adores the feeling of you on him no matter how much of a dummy you are. although you’re almost certain the truth is in the second option, the way his body went limp and how he slept like a baby the whole night was the perfectly proven reassurance that he just wants you, and he wouldn’t wanna have it any other way. it’s okay to learn with him if you have to. more than okay.
—
EVERYBODY WAKE UP TEDDYBEAR NONNIE DROPPED ANOTHER MASTERPIECE 📣
…wanted to make it special, perfect, and secretly got himself off multiple times to the very possessive thought of you being only his... he needs to make you cum first, it’s like his personal mission. some could say selfish, he’d describe it as essentially urgent.
ohhh, matt murdock. the man that you are. i fear he is so daddy here i am vibrating at an intensity strong enough to shatter glass :/
your hot breath hits the his tip, and he can’t help but take his hand from the bedsheets to your cheek, caressing you with his thumb. it feels comfortable lying on your stomach, right between his legs, almost like a sense of belonging.
UNBELIEVABLY CUTE WHIMPERING SO LOUD.. how do you paint such visceral pictures.. i felt transported 😔
• the truth is that everything with you felt unique to him. how after your first kiss, he couldn’t stop thinking about your taste or the specific, adorable way he heard your heart picking up… • ...making you hold on to his biceps to walk down the streets of new york. • by how, for the first time in his life, he feels like he isn’t being judged for revealing his flawed self, and knows he could tell you everything, anything. • he is also a really stern, strict man... created in his head his own codes about you. we know how serious he is about his self-imposed vigilantism morals...
sorry. what the fuck. HAVE YOU BEEN READING MY BLOG POSTS????? I KNOW YOU TAILOR-WROTE THIS FOR ME. i’m sorry but matt murdock, get in line. i’m tucking sweet nonnie into my bed n making nonnie sweet tea hehe... anyway, if i honestly could, i would clone you and put you all over mattreader tumblr. sob... you get him. i can't even emphasize it enough. YOU GET HIM.
he would distract you from objecting by burying himself deeply in your warm cunt or making you ride his face, rubbing his big nose on your clit and pumping his tongue in your entrance until you were creaming all over his mouth.
hm. might have had a hot flash come over me that made me need to urgently lay down, but it’s no big deal.
ANYWAY !!!!!! HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO CUTE WHY- I REALLY GENUINELY CANNOT AT THIS.. MATT FINISHING AT THE END AND STILL BEIN SO SWEET N GENTLE WITH HER I WANNA! HE'S SO SWEET N GENTLE AND SHE'S SO ADORABLE N SILLY, THEY MAKE FOR SUCH A CUTE PAIR.. BTW I READ THIS FIVE TIMES HEHE YUMMY! SO GIDDY
share your mm fantasies
#inbox#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock smut#🧸.txt#>500 words#hopelessromantic!reader#insecure!reader#needy!reader#lawyer!matt#!oral
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Mulder’s Depressed Vampire Sex: Me on 3
You know, I like the episode 3. I mean, not the casefile part of 3, which is whatever whatever, but the important part: the blood fetishist lady has her way with Mulder and then he cries.
I definitely loathed the episode back when the show was airing. Back then it seemed like it was intentionally hostile to the ship—like going out of its way to be hostile, having Kristen tell Mulder shit like “I can tell you’re missing someone, but attention please: just a friend. Definitely not more!!!” I honestly kind of felt like she was looking out of the screen directly at me when she said it.
But looking back, knowing that MSR was endgame (and that fans kinda took over the narrative anyway), I definitely see the episode totally differently.
From a Mulder character arc point of view, this episode is all about him being a sad, sad boy. It is all about his depression, his hopelessness, his grief for Scully. It’s also about his drive to try to save women and girls in order to save himself. And he so often seems to fail at this when it is someone he cares about (or even when it is someone he has a fleeting connection with, like Kristen). And that’s so, so devastating for him. In that sense, this episode is a really desperate expression of his grief and frustration.
The HIV/AIDS angle to this ep is super important, too, so we have to make sure we’re getting into the full 1994 mindset on this. Mulder says in alarm to Kristen back in the club, when she’s playing fast and loose with blood: “AIDS. Aren’t you afraid?” (To which she responds that she wants to die.) Mulder knows that HIV transmission through sharing fluids is no joke in 1994 (it probably really shouldn’t be now either, but that’s not today’s lecture). Yet later, when Kristen is shaving him and he’s nicked, he allows this to be the catalyst for sex, even as he makes attempts to stop her from tasting his blood.
So his choice to have sex with Kristen is depicted as reckless, with someone who has been shown being careless about HIV. And he is doing it not just because he is turned on, but because he is being intentionally reckless with himself, clearly knowing the consequences. He shows concern for her, yes, but he’s also self destructive. He wants to fuck the hot vampire, but he also wants to fuck with death.
In other words, there’s a difference between what the episode tells us about Mulder’s relationship to Scully and what it shows us. And what the episode shows us about their relationship is that Scully is central enough in his life that everything is fundamentally affected by her abduction. He’s broken. He’s visibly depressed. He makes decisions that risk his job and his life. All the while he is actually choosing to wear her cross: a symbol that traditionally wards off vampires, as Kristen observes, but also keeps Scully’s presence in his mind constantly and in every frame of the episode he's in. And the episode ends with him looking like a hero in a romance novel mournfully casting his eyes to the hills clutching her cross in his hand.
None of this obviously communicates “I miss my work friend,” right? No objective observer would see this and say, “ah, he clearly is missing someone—most likely a friend, I would say.” But probably that’s exactly why they included Kristen’s “just a friend” line. They knew his grief in this episode was reading very powerfully, and they didn’t want it to seem overtly romantic.
I also feel like it’s kind of significant that the only time we actually see Mulder have confirmed sex with someone (besides Scully later) is when he’s depressed and Scully is gone. Linking his grief for Scully to his very-rarely-seen acting out on sexual desire like this also seems kind of psychologically sus to me, but I don’t know, I read a lot of fanfic.
Speaking of which, I did a little fanfic search for 3. And unless I am missing obvious fics (always a possibility), it was kind of difficult. Partly because this is a stupidly hard episode to look in search engines for. (No one should ever name episodes after numbers, although this one I will forgive because it’s from 1994 and they couldn’t have fully understood about Google and AO3.)
But also I just think there hasn’t been a ton of 3 fanfic, probably because this episode isn’t very well-liked. And listen, I get that Scully isn’t in it, which is often unappealing for writers, and there is Mulder/other, which people don’t like. But I feel like there are a lot of possibilities for story ideas here that don’t necessarily take place during the events of the episode. Like: how does it affect them later? Personally I like fics where Mulder and Scully discuss the events of the episode long after (actually I wrote one, which I included in my recs because I’m not that cool). I also think Mulder’s angst and depression has a lot of ways it could go—not to mention it’s the last canonically confirmed time he has sex before like 2000 or something. And it seems like AU takes on what happened to Kristen could be interesting. So what I'm saying is: maybe try writing 3 fics.
3 Fanfic Recs
Three is a Crowd - wendelah1 Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop thinking of Scully.
Analgesic- settledownfrohike Mulder has sex with Kristen but can’t stop being a self-loathing, self-destructive mess. And thinking of Scully.
The Woman In His Heart - Spangle This shorter piece frames Mulder’s time with Kristen as a revelation about his feelings. Angsty and nicely observed. A 2005 Spooky winner, evidently.
False Dawn - emmbright A sharply etched portrait of how Mulder moves through his life between 3 and One Breath. For me this fills in the blanks perfectly.
Dreams - Characteristically_Exuberant This is actually a (great) post-ep for Field Trip, and the events of 3 aren’t the main focus of the fic. But I like how this author discusses what happened with Mulder in that episode and contextualizes it for both agents.
We’re Not Here To Get Involved In Personal Problems - cecily_sass This is mine, also not really a 3 post-ep; it’s an X-Cops post-ep. I feel a little silly including it. But I had them discuss the events of 3 in this fic in a way that sort of lays out my own thesis of the episode, and I thought, hey, it’s my list. Mulder and Scully walk to a gas station in Willow Park in Los Angeles the morning after X-Cops; they discuss plenty.
Any others? I feel like I probably missed some.
#the x files#3 episode#fox mulder#Kristen kilar#Scully abduction arc#x files fanfic#season 2 X-files#xf season 2#meta
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timeloop kross au where they’re both living in this town they hate so they swear to each other to get out whatever fucking way they can, but killer’s reckless, and dumb, and a hopeless romantic, and gets cross wrapped up in all kinds of crime. and they rob someone’s house for money so they can get out of town and killer kills the guy who’s house it is. and so cross has to deal with the moral turmoil of killing and robbing an almost complete stranger and actively running from authorities with this guy he realizes he doesn’t actually know that well, this guy he’s truly seeing for the first time (be it good or bad or both), but he’s so so stupidly in love with anyway. and who’s stupidly in love with him. and maybe killer gets hurt, maybe they both get hurt, and they’re lost and everything went to absolute shit just in a few days and they have blood literally on their hands. and part of cross wants (so desperately, even though he doesn’t realize that part) to go back, to how it was. to just get rid of all this shit. because of how jarringly different, foreign, unrecognizable, everything is. he hated that town, but it was what he knew and there was an odd comfort found in that familiarity. and now he’s afraid. and then cross wakes up. and it’s the same date as it was when it all started, and he’s back in his own house, and there’s no blood. but, no, no it had to have been a dream. a really weird, fucking vivid dream. so he tries to act normal, move on. and then stuff starts to get familiar. killer makes the same promise to him to get out of town. so cross tries so fucking hard to change it, to make sure it won’t end up the way it did in his dream. but it inevitably does, god it does, and again cross is filled with that turmoil and almost guilt, or regret. that unease. dissatisfaction. and he wakes up again. and it happens all over again. and this time he thinks something’s wrong with him. he’s having some weird ass dream. he’s lost his mind. and then it happens again. and again. and he can’t change any of it. and he keeps seeing killer with someone else’s blood on his hands, then he sees killer’s blood, then his own, and he feels that desperate, terrible fear of running again, of not being able to go back to how it was. of being ripped from this town he and killer were clawing till their fingers bled to get out of nonetheless. and now he has no fucking idea what’s happening to him. and it keeps happening. god, it keeps happening. he doesn’t know how many times it’s started over. and the only way to get out of this loop is to accept it. to accept that if he chooses this path with killer, of staying with him, of getting out of town, this is what’s gonna happen. he can’t avoid it, none of it. he has to make peace with that, accept that inevitable crushing abnormality that will come with his choices. he has to face them.
is that anything at all
#armageddon rambles woah#anyway. you know#i’m thinkin i’ll call this au the deja vu au mayhaps. cackles we’ll see how i feel later#if it stays a thing#this is very much the ramblings of a mad man i remembered an au idea i had and blacked out i think#i considered going the “killer (or cross) keeps dying and every time he dies it resets” route#like the one supernatural episode#but i decided this was more interesting#ANYWAY im fucking going to sleep. have this kross post before i can overthink it too hard (ive already overthought it)#disclaimer this like several days old i just messed with it a lot while it was in my drafts#deja vu au
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Another Cuttletavio fic prompt idea where a collection of old records are found of two unknown singers and is dated pre-turf war.
Everyone totally loves them, the songs range form upbeat to stupidly romantic sings that make it clear that the two singers are totally hopeless for each other. Journalists keep speculation and have picked apart that songs have ocotling and Inkling elements and start theorizing about a romeo and Juliet forbidden love type relationship, ( Pearl and Marina are already working on their own cover of some of the romance songs and totally added them to their playlists).
Everyone is totally excited for any new records found and when Callie Marie and agent 3 find a new one while looking around an excavation site they are so hyped and so course listen to it right away.... and it's ... familiar.... really familiar it sounds like... Calamari inkataion... but their gramps taught them that and....
WAIT!
It's not hard to put 2 and 2 together after that.ad it explains why their gramps has been especially quiet as soon as the songs started playing not commenting on them just quietly listening to them a lot and why when DJ Octavio showed up to maybe cause trouble and then heard the song noped the fuck out and yep in hindsight he was blushing.
Callie and Marie are shocked especially since Octavio helped write our signature song?! oh god Gramps loved him... HE PROBABLY STILL LOVES HIM OH MY COD.
It gets worst when some of the other agents ask if they've ever actually seen their other grandparent? Ever? at all?
Callie and Marie busting in while Craig is all melancholic listening to the old songs: GRAMPS IS DJ OCTAVIO OUR OTHER GRANDPA???
#cuttletavio#splatoon#octavio x craig#dj octavio#craig cuttlefish#au#fic prompt#pearl x marina#humor#callie cuttlefish#marie cuttlefish
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men of Task Force 141 (bonus: König) VS. gift giving
Captain Price: He's used to holding the reins in a relationship, so don't expect him to ask what you'd want. You'll get a set of (stupidly expensive) racy lingerie. We're talking real silk, handwoven lace, but also cutouts in ALL the fun places. He'll want to give it a test run almost immediately after you've unpacked your gift.
Gaz: He's a thoughtful lad, so he will put some thought into this. Dropping sneaky little questions amidst your everyday convos as to gauge your needs and personal taste. He's got great visual memory, too. Remember that pair of absolutely jawdropping high heels that you've gushed over while traversing the mall once? Probably not anymore, but he does - and he knows your correct shoe size, too.
Ghost: He's never been gifted anything as a child. Presents are a pain in the arse to him. He sucks at the art of gift giving and he knows that he sucks at it, which only exacerbates his frustration. Don't expect to be treated to any in the earlier stages of your relationship - apart from his favourite foods and drinks anyway. When things between the two of you get Serious, he'll ask you out front ("What do you want for Christmas?") Just go online and send him a direct link to something practical - like a new laptop or a piece of furniture. Don't worry about the price. He might be clueless when it comes to this, but he's definitely not a skinflint.
Johnny Soap McTavish: This lad loves to give (in all possible meanings of the word.) He's been leaving you little presents since you've become close, in a manner not unlike to a friendly crow. You find lovely wildflowers or a pretty stone or something like that on your windowsill every other day. He's the "babe, I saw this while out shopping and I thought of you" type of guy. He'll rise to any Big Occasion in style. Expect to get something well-thought and custom made. Like a necklace which looks a bit like his dog tags, but is made of sterling silver and has both of your blood groups and names etched into it.
König: You'll get a book of old obscure German poetry (he did miles of research to find the best English translation available.) This lad is a hopeless romantic.
#modern warfare#call of duty#task force 141#simon ghost riley#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#konig call of duty#shitpost of the day#john soap mactavish#gaz cod#ghost cod#john price cod#konig headcanons#soap mactavish
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written for @wait-whos-batman DCU Valentine's Day event! It's all over the place, mostly because Jason is high - though there isn't any explicit mention of drugs other than one or two sentences!
It's desi!reader. Lemme know if you want links to movie/song/string ornament! Jay quoting the Hobbit because that's my obsession these days!
You weren’t concerned when the racket at your door started. A little confused, perhaps, because usually Jay loved giving you heart attacks via jumpscares. However, this was hardly the first time he had tried to pick a fight with your apartment door.
The first time it had occurred, you two weren’t exactly friends - just classmates who collaborated on assignments. It hadn’t stopped him from waking you up at 3 am with his insistent knocking. He had then raved on about the brilliant fucker who almost had him believe in a hopeful ending to Romeo-Juliet and why the heartbreak is his due in this existence. You just let him have it after you figured out he had been talking about the movie goliyon ki raasleela ram-leela. It wasn’t like he was wrong and did apologize for barging in after running out of steam. He was the only person in grad school who spoke decent Hindi and you weren’t letting him go.
Your friendship over shared cups of masala tea had taught you three things about Jay:
1. was a hopeless romantic and always cursed out tragic endings
2. His eyes glowed green during his impassioned speeches
3. He loved dramatic entrances which ranged anywhere from silent to boisterous.
Hence you weren’t particularly worried when something metallic thudded against your door, adding the clanking of your string ornament in the mix. But when the door finally opened - you just gawked at the glowing red helmet in astonishment.
“What the everloving fuck” Yes - that summed up your sentiments pretty well.
“The key works” Red Hood’s distorted voice offered in lieu of an answer.
“I am on the quest - a perilous one” He proclaimed.
You definitely never handed apartment keys to the vigilante in question. The only person you trusted enough to have it was your best friend from college - Jay Todd Peterson.
Fuck - did Red Hood get the key from Jay? Why would Jay? Did he hurt Jay for them??
You stupidly stared at the Red Hood trying to make sense of the situation. The fuck was he talking about?? You hadn’t realized you verbalized your thought until Red Hood responded.
“You told me I can crash here if I want -” Could a mechanical voice be pouting??
“Guess not - “ he murmured as his shoulders drooped, his whole body sagging in defeat as he turned to leave.
This was a gesture you recognized - it was Jay equivalent of puppy dog eyes - the one he had perfected to use as a lethal weapon so that you would be swayed to do his bidding. It was like watching a sad labrador, always tugging at your heartstrings.
“Jay?” you hazarded a guess and Red Hood turned around - arms crossed on his chest in the classic ‘I’m stubbornly sulking - but you have to figure out the problem ’ pose.
“Oh for heaven’s sake.” You grumbled and struggled to drag your best friend - who seemed more interested in patting your head -inside.
“I am on a perilous quest -” Jay declared again once he settled on the couch and without the distorted voice modulator it didn’t sound like a malevolent threat.
You tried to hold your laughter but the sight of Jay sprawled on your couch, wringing his hands like a punished child and quoting The Hobbit was adorable. (If one disregarded several weapons on his person). The green of his irises was barely visible but other than that there weren’t any injuries.
You nodded dumbly - some part of your brain stuck on your best friend being a crimelord. He didn’t need any prompting because he continued in a solemn voice,
“I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, a partner in crime you could say, and it's very difficult to find anyone.”
Whoever had drugged him (you suspected Ivy ), clearly had thrown him for a loop. It would be better if he stayed here instead of galavanting off on the streets, ruining Red Hood’s badass reputation. So you fetched him water and midnight snacks, settling in for the show. This should be fun.
“Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you.” You played along and were rewarded with a bright smile.
“There is nothing like looking if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.” He fired off.
“And what would you be looking for, kind sir?” you asked, struggling to match the serious tone of his voice.
"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be re - repe- re-p re-ss-ed." Jay flopped on his back with his head in your lap, when he failed to properly speak in an over-the-top British accent.
“I always wanted to be in love you know??” his whisper was so soft and you strained to hear him.
“I want someone just for me. Where one is in love even before they know it. I want love like Arwen loves Aragorn, wholeheartedly - all good and bad, worse and worst!. No takebacks! Someone who is there always supporting me, loving me. I want to hold on to them. Like you know - they would be the absolutely best decision I would ever make. But good decisions aren’t exactly my forte.” He rambled as if confessing a sin.
You opted for listening to him, reciprocating his trust by safeguarding his secrets deep in your heart, and continued running your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He heaved a contented sigh with closed eyes, burrowing closer and for a moment you thought he had fallen asleep.
Jay had never opened up quite like this. Listening to him divulge his deepest-held thoughts while high as a kite, felt like cheating. He wouldn’t want you to know his secrets, but then again that ship had sailed when he had shown up at your doorstep in the Red Hood regalia.
Maybe this was something he had to get off his chest?
“wo haseen murti pyaar ki, milegi muze kabhi naa kabhi… muze jiske pyaar pe ho yakeen; wo pari, wo hoor, wo nazaneen” he hummed the mangled a song under his breath.
“Sing that song to me.” he nudged your knee, “The one where they flap like birds.”
He irritated you until you crooned it, chiming in whenever he remembered the lyrics.
“Why am I Arkenstone?” You wondered aloud. Jay’s erratic mood affecting you as well. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t considered a possible romantic dynamic between you two, but Jay always had some invisible boundary he would never cross.
“Have I told you how much I admire you?” He clutched your other hand in both of his. He softly placed it on his beating heart.
“Your soul shines like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon!”
“Because you are a great and wondrous jewel. And I would go mad if I ever lost you to anyone else!” he answered simply and sincerely, borrowed eloquent quotes long forgotten.
“Would you love me even if I were Gollum?” He questioned sleepily, his thoughts running away from him again.
You peered at him for any lie, but his heartbeat didn’t even waver under your palm. He was relaxed as if he hadn’t just tilted your world. What were you going to do with this silly man?
You wanted to ask him if he really meant it or if it was just a rambling of a drugged man. You didn’t have the mental capacity to unpack all the implications tonight.
“Yes, I would,” you whispered against his hair, softly kissing his forehead. "very much so, good and bad, worse and worst!"
There would be a lot of hard conversations the next morning, but tonight you would dream about this absurd man wrapped in your arms.
#dcuvalentinesday2024#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood#redhood x reader#fluff#i know it's weird
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The Story of Pink Eros ~ A Valentine's Day Collab
Welcome to the Pink Eros bookstore! Browse our collection of romance stories, or find something sweet for your lover...
This collab will contain a combination of SFW and NSFW works. See each individual fic for tags and warnings.
Join the taglist here!
The Story of... Seungcheol A Witches Apothecary: For All Your Desires and Needs by @duhnova
Genre: NSFW - smut, established relationship, supernatural/witch au, light fluff, hint of angst Synopsis: when your boyfriend told you to read the labels on the bottles carefully you should’ve listened, because what was suppose to be a relaxing night of you messaging all the tension away turned to him being in even more pain that only you could fix.
The Story of... Jeonghan Always Been You by @darlingvernon
Genre: NSFW - smut, royalty au, arranged marriage au Synopsis: you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall in love but jeonghan just had to go ahead and ruin everything
The Story of... Wonwoo Love Hotel (your body is a wonderland) by @wonuhour
Genre: NSFW - smut Synopsis: Wonwoo finally got a reservation at the love hotel. It's only for couples on valentine's day and it's a surprise for you. Also what you don't know is what the hotel is really about, besides being romantic. In the end you can't get enough.
The Story of... Jihoon Dear Valentine by @idyllic-ghost
Genre: SFW, fluff, romance, rivals/friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, college au Synopsis: valentine’s day is approaching fast, and your university is set to celebrate it well. a group of students calling themselves the pink eros group has created a website for other students to send anonymous love letters to a random match. you and your friend, jihoon, find it stupid and a waste of time… but in secret, you decide to create an account. it’s not like a love letter to a stranger can change anything, right?
The Story of... Minghao Strange Love by @wonwussy
Genre: NSFW - smut, some fluff, some angst Synopsis: To everyone else, you and Minghao don’t make sense. To you two? It makes all the sense in the world.
The Story of... Mingyu King of Hearts & Nerdy Love by @strawberryya
Genre: NSFW - smut, fluff, romance, college au Synopsis: How can valentine's at the library be romantic? Was what you asked, stupidly enough, not knowing this would become the ultimate challenge for the hopeless romantic that was your boyfriend.
The Story of... Seungkwan 1-800-CUPID by @drunk-on-dk
Genre: NSFW - smut, fluff/romance, slice of life, old friends to lovers Synopsis: Nothing could have ever prepared you to reunite with Boo Seungkwan over a desperate, wine-induced call to 1-800-CUPID late one night. Seungkwan was always known for being a jack-of-all-trades and meddler during your time spent as his friend at university, so hearing his cherubic voice over the love advice hotline wasn’t so shocking. Fortunately for you, Seungkwan’s sprite attitude is exactly what you need in your post-grad, loveless life. However, what will you do when he begins to surpass what the hotline has to offer and meddles with your heart instead?
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Hopelessness
A hopeful bounce within each step. A gentle fluttering of fluffy, purplish-white wings. A gleam of determination within the eyes of an angel. Follower had been thinking, thinking hard about something. Thinking about love. Love was an interesting concept for him, something he’s only experienced through interactions with his family. A type of love a child receives from their father, a type of love that one experiences when seeing a favorite relative. But that’s not the type Follower was interested in. No, he wanted romantic love. He wanted to experience what it would be like to hold someone’s hand, to be close and tender with another soul. What it could possibly feel like to ever share a kiss… Face flushed with embarrassment as he shook off the thoughts, continuing his way through the streets of Playground. It never seemed to get easier for him despite the many times he’s traveled here, mainly because of his annoyance with a certain knight who seemed to have taken pleasure in bothering and picking on him. Although Follower would never experience the immense amount of heartbreak he would’ve felt, he would’ve never expected the sheer painfulness of face-to-face rejection. He approached the castle, a little bouquet of flowers gripped within his talons. This knight, you see, was none other than Egobworder himself. The most famous and well-loved knight that’s ever been born within the walls of the Kingdom of Playground. Follower’s known him for so long, but he felt like he’s hated him for longer. The two could never exactly see eye to eye, always having a scrap over something. But to Follower, he never super took it as anything serious, he didn’t see genuine hatred towards the teal knight over the small, seemingly meaningless little scuffs they’d have. Now yes, there were genuine times where Follower wanted to rip the dog’s throat out, but he could never bring himself to actually do it. And through his period of deep thought, reflecting upon things that he maybe shouldn’t have, he realized that his heart and head yearned from that dog. For that stupid mutt who drank in the attention of anyone and everyone. It made him a little jealous, he wanted to be the one who had Ego’s full attention. He breathed in and held it for a moment before he continued on, taking confident steps towards the keep where the knights lived and slept. He knew where Ego’s room was, he’s basically mapped out the keep from the couple of times he’s been there. He stepped up to the door and knocked, talons gripping the thing of flowers a little tighter as he waited. And soon enough, Ego appeared within the doorway. The knight looked as spunky and full of energy as usual, that stupidly charming smile decorating his face. But that smile turned into confusion when he noticed Follower, his vibrant eyes shifting down to the flowers then shifting back up to his face. A part of Follower’s head was screaming for him to leave, to take the other knight’s confusion as a bad sign. But he didn’t leave, he held out his hands and shoved the flowers into the other knight’s chest, voice coming out shaky and a little cracking. “Egobworder.” he began, making the canine knight put his full attention on Follower’s face, ears perking up slightly. “I… I have been wanting to tell you something for a while now. Something that I had yet to realize myself. I know our relationship is not the best, and it has not been the best because of both of us. We have never meshed well and for that I wish to apologize for any and all times that I may have misinterpreted something you have said or did not properly understand some actions you had committed.”
“Although… I-I want to put our differences aside. I am here before you, giving you these flowers, as a token of affection. As a way of expressing that I have found myself falling in love with you. I-I know it sounds strange, I understand that completely. But I am hoping that… That there is a chance we could possibly be together. It would… It would delight me to experience love for the first time.” Follower’s voice trailed off as he finished, staring down at the smaller demon with wide eyes. He was desperate, he wanted this to work, and unfortunately Ego could tell. The teal knight scoffed and took the flowers from Follower, admiring them a moment before dropping them onto the ground without a second thought. Follower could feel his heart shatter. “Me? Date someone like you? Tsk, you think I have THAT low of standards, Follower? The fact you had the confidence to approach me like this is cute I’ll admit. But my answer is no. You’re nowhere near enough of a “proper demon” for me to consider you a worthy choice for a partner.” Ego crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes darkly at the dove before him. Follower was speechless, standing there with wide eyes. He wanted to say something, but Ego continued before he could. “Son of a God who coddled you, who prevented you from going out and exploring the world! You’re still a child, Follower. And you’ll always be a child. I honestly think another god should’ve adopted you! Maybe then you’d be more of a man, more of someone I’d consider worthy of having my affections. I don’t care about all of the scuffles we’ve gotten into, all of the petty and serious arguments of the past. But I’m almost offended you think you’re good enough for someone like me.” “I have no interest in you romantically. Hell, not even platonically. I wouldn’t be your friend if you had asked me, and I wouldn’t stoop down to a disgusting low to be your lover either. So my answer remains no. Now goodbye, Follower Sword.” And with that, the door to Ego’s bedroom was closed and locked up tight, leaving Follower to stand there in shock. In a state of being that hurt so fucking much. This pain, yes, he felt it before. He felt this pain when he realized he couldn’t have his own Stargazer, how someone he admired and adored was happily with someone else. Although he had gotten over that. This? This was something more intense, more agonizingly dreadful. He’s known Ego for so fucking long. He thought maybe, just maybe, that could’ve been enough. That Follower himself could be enough. But it seems like he was proven wrong, it seems like he was just going to have his heart shattered again and again and again. The burning tightness in his chest hurt, it hurt so fucking much. Head spinning, legs moving on their own as he made his way out of the keep, out of the castle and eventually out of the walls of Playground. Follower didn’t return home that day.
#phighting!#phighting#phighting sword#follower sword#phighting skateboard#egobworder#egofollower#a broken angel / follower sword#windy writes
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