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lilacgyuvin · 11 months ago

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out of my league — k. gyuvin

pairing: nerd!gyuvin x popular!gn!reader

synopsis: it’s valentine’s day! what better way to confess to your longtime crush (and the highschool’s most popular student) than with a letter shoved through their locker. just don’t let jiwoong find out.

wrd count: 6.3k (DAMN OKAY BITCH!!!)

warnings: highschool!au, slight hurt/lots of comfort, bully!jiwoong (srry someone had to do it), bullying, one km s joke, reader isn’t a bully, eunseok of riize sneak, jiwoong is really mean 😭 a little crack, funeral talk, not to be taken seriously this is fiction!!

a/n: yk i had to write smth with valentine’s day coming up!! i lobe gyuvin gyuvin pls be my valentine pls plsplspls

“I put a note in their locker.”

It probably wasn’t the best sentence starter, which Gyuvin realizes only after Taerae starts to choke on his strawberry soda mid-chug. Despite his eyes practically bulging out of his head paired with a boisterous gasp amidst hearing Gyuvin’s doings, Eunseok reaches a lending hand out to his suffocating friend’s back.

“You what?!” Eunseok screams in a hushed tone, despite being the only three occupants of the classroom. If Gyuvin didn’t think it was a stupid idea then, well, he certainly does now. He honestly wasn’t going to tell anyone at first; the embarrassment mixed with the fear of rejection almost made him drop the whole plan as a whole. However, binging 3 romance dramas back to back gave him the confidence he’d never thought he’d have otherwise if it weren’t for the male leads and their suave ways, which is what leads him to where he stands today: sending a confession letter to his longtime crush which also ended up being the cause of his friend’s premature death. Thanks, Choi Woong!

Taerae unfortunately survives his cough attack and uses his regained ability to breath properly to discourage Gyuvin’s efforts even more. “Jiwoong’s gonna kill you man.”

Yes, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear right now. He decides against answering with sarcasm and opts out to rolling his eyes as hard as he can at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-named.

“He didn’t see me put it in,” He certainly didn’t, and Gyuvin knows this because he showed up an hour earlier than normal to slip the note in, partly to avoid Jiwoong and to also beat his inevitable numerous contenders. “Plus, they’re not even dating. They don’t like him.”

Eunseok and Taerae share a glance. They look back at Gyuvin. “Did they tell you that.”

Gyuvin’s starting to get tired of rolling his eyes. Of course they didn’t tell him that, they’re nowhere near close. While they’ve coexisted in the same space for the past four years, their friend groups are on complete opposite sides of the spectrum. They’re admired by everyone, in numerous clubs, and is practically known by the whole school. The only club Gyuvin’s a part of is the Epic Gamers Club™ held at Eunseok’s house every other day. And as far as being admired goes…

“Yo. Gyuvin.”

Oh fuck, it’s so over. Gyuvin is going to die. What’s-his-face is here and Gyuvin is going to die, all because he couldn’t confess to his crush like a normal person. How did Jiwoong even see him? It’s not like he handed the letter to them in plain sight, and there’s no way in hell Jiwoong showed up to school an hour early.

Well, none of that matters anymore. Jiwoong is now walking into the once peaceful confines of the classroom, his goons right behind him, and Gyuvin’s about to meet his end.

All he asks is that Y/n is at his funeral.

Despite coming into the classroom for Gyuvin, Jiwoong is kind enough to make time to mess around with his friends first. Wedging himself in between the three desks facing each other, Jiwoong snatches Taerae’s glasses off his face and tosses them to the floor, and at the same time shoves Eunseok’s tuna mayo kimbap out of his hands. So much for escaping the lunch room.

After watching his friends scramble for their discarded items, Jiwoong turns his back to them in favor of facing Gyuvin, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

Kim Jiwoong: The entire school’s boy crush and simultaneously Gyuvin’s worst nightmare. Going into high school, Gyuvin didn’t think he’d have problems with anyone, his plan was simple: make a decent amount of friends, stay in the honors program so he can get into his dream university, and best his all-time score in Super Smash Bros Ultimate. Oh, and get into his first relationship (since the girl he ‘dated’ in the second grade didn’t count, according to Taerae).

He guesses he strived too hard at the second thing though, as in their freshman year Jiwoong was left at second place in their classes overall academic ranking, and Jiwoong was never second.

Ever since then, Jiwoong has tried everything to sabotage Gyuvin’s grades, which ended in failure each time. So, he just stuck to messing with him. Now Gyuvin wouldn’t really mind if he had got reprimanded for his actions, but he gets away with it— every time. Sneaking slaps upside his head when passing him through the halls, pushing and tripping him during gym, and ‘accidentally’ spilling his drink onto his uniform (which is what initiated classroom lunches amongst him and his friends in the first place): he got away with it all, for four damn years. All because of that facade he puts up in front of everyone. With his perfect grades combined with his charm, he’s adored by students and faculty alike— all but the few who were unfortunate enough to be victims of his ridiculing, Gyuvin included.

The devil himself opens his mouth once again. “I haven’t seen you in a while, you hiding from me?” His smirk forms into a smile, yet it doesn’t reach his eyes, and it holds the same sinister tone as his previous expression did.

Gyuvin looks up at him, disdain hidden behind the neutral shield he’s learned to master in favor of avoiding a swift blow to the face (not that it ever stopped Jiwoong from landing one, anyway). “No.”

At that, Jiwoong’s smile drops, his eyebrows furrow in fake confusion and he starts to look around the empty room. “But… you’re having lunch. In an empty classroom. When there’s a perfectly good cafeteria waiting for you downstairs.” Jiwoong’s friends snicker by the door as he leans down to be eye level with Gyuvin. “Don’t you find that rude, Gyuvin? The staff make sure the cafe is cleaned spotless for scum like you to eat, and you’re eating in the classroom?”

Literally what the fuck is he even talking about. It isn’t uncommon for students to eat in the classrooms, and he knows this because Jiwoong’s literally done it before. It’s in that moment that he realizes Jiwoong just came in here to mess with him, which means he doesn’t know about the letter which means that he won’t die today. Looks like he’ll live to see another day after all!

His newfound happiness isn’t long lived, as in the span of one second, Gyuvin blinks and his food is nothing but a pile of solids and liquids on the classroom’s floor.

Jiwoong gives him a mean snare, despite the fact that all of Gyuvin’s attention is to his now germ-infested food. “And now look, you made a mess.”

Gyuvin can barely hear him and his friends laughing with the way his ears are ringing— no, practically blaring throughout his head. His bulgogi over rice is on the floor. His fucking bulgogi over rice, the last of its kind (as his mom let him have the last of the leftovers), is now nothing but a concoction of soggy meat and rice sautaed with his strawberry milk.

Usually, Gyuvin would be the bigger person and walk away; he’d shut his mouth, clean up the mess, and go about his day. But for some reason, he doesn’t feel like being the mature one today. Maybe it’s the never ending grating laughter coming from his friends, maybe it’s because he’s tired of Jiwoong pushing him around, or maybe it’s just because his mom’s bulgogi is the best bulgogi, and now he can’t have any, all because Kim Jiwoong was bored.

Without a second thought, Gyuvin rises from his chair, lifting his arms to push at the chest of an unexpecting Jiwoong, who stumbles onto the desks of Gyuvin’s friends behind him (he’ll apologize to them for that later). Jiwoong unfortunately finds his footing rather quickly, and doesn’t waste a second as he roughly grabs Gyuvin by the collar, dragging him to the nearest wall and slams him against it. “You fucking crazy? Huh?!”

Those dramas must be really getting to me, Gyuvin thinks. It becomes obvious when he doesn’t shut his mouth after Jiwoong’s question. “Fuck you, Jiwoong.”

He doesn’t even mean to spit in his face, but it happens when he speaks, and he can feel his past self crying tears of joy. He’s been wanting to do this for four years. Maybe the bulgogi sacrificed itself for this very moment. Thanks, Bulgogi. I’ll never forget you.

Jiwoong dryly laughs, lolling his head to the side like the psycho he is. “Yeah, you’ve clearly lost your mind. I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Okay, remember when Gyuvin thought he was free from begging murdered and would live to see another day? He’s starting to think he spoke too soon.

It’s like things are moving in slow motion; Jiwoong releasing a hand on his collar in favor of making a fist angled straight at Gyuvin’s nose, his friends standing from their seats in dreadful anticipation, and the swift breeze that comes from the door being swung open.

“Leave him alone, Jiwoong.”

Ah, his guardian angel.

In less than a millisecond, Jiwoong’s vice grip on Gyuvin’s collar is released, and the fist ready to knock him out is lowered to his side. A deep sigh escapes his throat before he turns to the agitated student. “Go back downstairs, Y/n. This is nothing.”

Gyuvin almost laughs wholeheartedly at Jiwoong’s weak attempt to redirect them. As if he could get them to do anything he said.

Y/n cooks their head to the side, which in Gyuvin’s book is a telltale sign that they’re about to read the fuck out of Jiwoong. “Yeah, it was nothing, until you decided to come in here and bother them for literally no reason. Do you seriously have nothing else better to do?”

Gyuvin can feel an amused smile crawling onto his face as he watches Jiwoong scramble to find an excuse. Seeing Jiwoong try his hardest not to physically deflate in front of his friends would never get old.

And neither would his good-boy facade, apparently! Despite being caught in the act by Y/n for the millionth time, Jiwoong still attempts to save face by pulling out the puppy eyes plucked from the deepest pits of Hell, paired with the fakest apologetic look Gyuvin’s ever witnessed, and turns to be face to face with Y/n, caressing their arm in what he thinks is a comforting gesture. “Come on, don’t be like that. What, you want me to apologize?”

“Yes.”

Like he’s just heard he’s due to get castrated tomorrow morning, his hand’s cease the petting motion and Jiwoong does a double take. “You serious?” He looks into their eyes for any signs of humor behind them (which is stupid for issuing an apology, Gyuvin thinks), and when he doesn’t find any, he drops the act faster than Gyuvin can say ‘COD sucks’ and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out the loudest groan known to man. “Oh my- fine.” Jiwoong looks to his right, locking eyes with him, “Sorry for knocking over your piece of shit lunch, Gyuvin.”

Piece of— his mom’s bulgogi?! Of course Jiwoong wouldn’t know the significance the lunch held for Gyuvin, but he wouldn’t care anyway, so Gyuvin breaks eye contact and rolls his eyes as far into his head as humanly possible.

Gyuvin, now making his way to his book bag to retrieve napkins for his late lunch on the floor, can’t see the look of disbelief on Jiwoong’s face, but he sure can hear it. “What, you’re not gonna accept my apology?”

Gyuvin doesn’t stop fetching for the tissues even when he hears Jiwoong’s footsteps approaching him, and neither does he stop when they come to a halt. “He doesn’t have to do anything,” When he finally retrieves the napkins, Y/n is at his side on the floor, grabbing the empty plastic bag on his desk. “Now if you aren’t going to help clean up, then leave.”

Jiwoong furrows his eyebrows. “You don’t need to help them, Y/n.”

“I also don’t have to meet with you at the cafe after school.”

Oh, Gyuvin knows that one hurt. Everyone knows Jiwoong’s been dying to ask Y/n out for a while now (mostly because he’d never shut up about it), and boy was Gyuvin right. He stumbles over his words as he raises his arms before dropping them. “Come on, Y/n. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Despite the obvious hurt in his voice, they don’t even spare him a glance, focusing on the mess in front of them. “..So? We’re not dating, take Minjeong or something.”

A beat of silence passes, and he thinks Jiwoong died of embarrassment until a scoff erupts from his throat. Okay, there was no way Gyuvin would miss out on seeing Jiwoong’s face after getting rejected before he could even confess, so he raises his head and fully suspects Jiwoong to be sulking or something. He was so wrong. When Gyuvin looks up, Jiwoong is staring right at him, his eyes holding nothing but disdain and revulsion. Wow, Gyuvin thinks, if this is how he reacts to them just simply helping me, what’s he gonna do when they accept (which they hopefully will) my confession? He’d rather not think about that right now actually, and he doesn’t have to any longer, as Jiwoong turns on his heels and makes his way out of the classroom, his goons behind him, but not before mumbling a parting gift for Gyuvin. “Fuckin’ freak.”

So original. Anyway, Gyuvin’s just glad he doesn’t have to deal with him for the rest of the lunch period. His friend��s are quick to his side, and he reassures them that he’s fine. “I’ll go get more napkins.” Eunseok nods and rises from the floor, and is halfway through the door before he stops when he realizes Taerae isn’t behind him.

He cranes his head to the side, and from the corner of his eye he can see Taerae still at Gyuvin’s side. Unbelievable. “Um, Taerae.” He raises his head to his friend standing, and doesn’t get the hint until Eunseok is nudging his head towards the hallway in a ‘get-the-fuck-out’ sorta way.

He looks between Gyuvin and Y/n before his whole body straightens, finally getting up from his crouching position. “Oh! Um, yeah. I’m going to get napkins too.” While Taerae walks towards his other friend, Gyuvin raises his head, and Eunseok gives him a thumbs up in support. It’s in that moment that Gyuvin decides pizza’s gonna be on him at tonight’s Epic Gamers Club™ meeting.

A beat of silence passes, only the sounds of his poor lunch being scooped up into the bag are heard, until Gyuvin musters the courage to start the conversation.

“Thanks for helping me.” He doesn’t have to stop his task to know that they’re smiling. “Of course, I’m sorry about him.” They say in a remorseful tone.

Gyuvin hates the way they apologize on Jiwoong’s behalf, but at the same time he can’t help the way their kindness makes him feel all warm and gooey inside— They're just too good for this world. “You don’t have to apologize for him. You’re not his babysitter.”

His last comment seems to make Y/n laugh. ‘Huh, I’m just funny like that, I guess’ (It’s what he’s thinking, but his friends would agree to disagree.) “It sometimes feels that way.”

Gyuvin hesitates to ask his next question; they’re not exactly close, but he’s been feeling all sorts of confident recently, so he does anyway. “Why do you hang out with him? With them?” ‘Them’ being the rest of Jiwoong’s posee who think they’re hot shit; being all types of mean to other students just because of their looks or their parents’ social statuses. Gyuvin doesn’t think he hates anything more than a snobby rich asshole, which is what induced Gyuvin’s question in the first place, because Y/n isn’t a snobby rich asshole, yet they hang out with a group of them. It’s a question he’s been dying to ask for years now, and all it took was for Jiwoong to fuck up his lunch. Gyuvin almost mentally thanks him, but he barfs in his mouth a bit just thinking about it.

A few seconds pass, and it seems like they’re trying to find an answer to the question themselves. A nervous sigh passes through their lips as they wipe at the strawberry milk staining the floor. “Well, I guess I just fell into it? The friend group, I mean. When I first transferred, I thought they were really nice. At least they treated me that way. I don’t know why.”

‘Because you’re smart and all types of talented and you’re fucking gorgeous’ and a thousand other things is what Gyuvin wants to say, but he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets them continue. “But yeah, they’d always push me to hang out with them, and I guess by the time I realized who they truly were, everyone had already established their friends groups.” At this point is where they ran out of napkins and there was still a bit of the mess left over, so the two sit across from each other, leaning on the legs of the desks behind them. Despite loving the alone time they’re getting, Gyuvin hopes Eunseok and Taerae come back with more tissue soon, or else he’d have to explain the mess to his teacher, thus taking the fall for Jiwoong once again. His sulking that came from just thinking about the possibility is interrupted when Y/n speaks again, in a more hushed tone this time. “I guess I’m just scared of being alone.”

Woah, Gyuvin’s never thought of it that way. Having no friends was a valid fear, hell, Gyuvin felt that way before he met his. He can’t imagine how it would affect Y/n. The school’s most popular student: a loner— they’d never hear the end of it.

He hates that they feel like they need to hang out with pieces of shit to avoid being lonely, when that isn’t the truth at all. As delusional as it may sound, Gyuvin is right here. Who cares if they don’t have similar interests? They can introduce each other to all their different hyper fixations and special interests. And so what if they’re from seemingly different worlds? Gyuvin would swim across all the oceans and walk over thousands of miles if it meant getting to be with Y/n. Every time they’re paired to work on an assignment together, whenever they congratulate him on yet another academic achievement, when Y/n spots him in the hallway and stops to talk to Gyuvin and only Gyuvin. It never gets old, his heart beating a million times over with how kind and effortlessly funny and drop dead gorgeous they are. Fuck, he thinks, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go on if they reject me.

Gyuvin never wants them to feel alone, he needs to let them know that such a thing can never happen. He can tell his silence goes on longer than expected with the way they start to nervously fiddle with the edges of their uniform sleeves. He says it before he can think about it for another second. “You don’t have to be alone. I-I know we’re not close, but you can talk to me.”

With the speed in which their head lifts from their fixed view on the ground, Gyuvin doesn’t know if he’s successfully swooned them or if he effectively fucked up his chances at being anything to them. He needs to save face, so he raises his hands in defense, his eyes widening in pure fear. “O-only if you want to! Like. Just in case you felt like it or whatever.” Yeah, it totally wouldn’t put me into anaphylactic shock if you were to seek me out in any way shape or form!

Gyuvin lowers his hands, leans back on the legs of the desk, and watches as Y/n’s expression transforms from one of shock, to pure adoration. Their eyes soften in a way Gyuvin’s never seen before, and if he were to look a little closer, he swears there are tears swimming at the brim of them, threatening to fall.

‘FuckifImadeY/ncryI’mgonnaenditall’ is the one thought running through Gyuvin’s head as he waits for a response. He isn’t joking either— he’s sorry to his loved ones and all that, and he supposes the Epic Gamer Club™ would have to go on an indefinite hiatus with the emotional trauma it’d leave on his friends. He wonders if his dog would be brought to his funeral?

Turns out he won’t have to plan out his funeral arrangements after all, that becomes clear when a warm smile meets their eyes, and the tears dwindle to a glassy thin layer over their eyes. “I’d love to. Thank you, Gyuvin.”

Oh Gyuvin thinks his heart just exploded, but like, in a good way. A love explosion, if you will. He doesn’t waste a beat before he’s sporting a smile of his own, sitting straighter than before. “Anytime.”

His friends aren’t back, the period isn’t over yet, and he doesn’t want to stop the conversation there. So, he talks about the thing that’s been plaguing his mind for the past week. “I saw your locker. You got a lot of letters.”

Y/n laughs bashfully at the mention of the hundreds- no, thousands of letters they received today. When they arrived at school, they opened their locker and was bombarded with a sea of pink and red cards that practically drowned them, and by the time second period rolled around, their desk was stuffed to the brim with even more advances in the form of candies and cute plushies. “Yeah, I haven’t even gotten to a single one yet! I’ll do it before school ends, though. I’m glad people like me enough to get me things.”

They’ve got to be kidding. The spring semester of freshman year was absolutely rocked by the wave that was Y/n’s arrival. Despite coming from a normal, middle class family, they were quick to rise in popularity. At first, it had just been their beauty that seemed to draw everyone in, but as soon as they were able to showcase their physical and academic skill, along with their endless heaps of kindness, they became more than just a pretty face, and the whole student body can testify to that. Unfortunately, by the 4th day into the new semester Jiwoong and his loser-ass friends had already sunk their claws into Y/n and scooped them up before any other group could. But yeah, anyone who doesn’t love Y/n is crazy and is probably most definitely going to hell.

‘I hope you read mine.’ It’s at the tip of his tongue, he’s straightening his posture to sit taller and ask them with his whole chest, and—

“More napkins!” is the opener Taerae decides to go with as he and Eunseok barge into the confines of the classroom. “Uhh sorry we took so long, we were arguing about…” he turns to Eunseok who just shrugs his shoulders before turning back to the two. “.. who the strongest avenger is.”

Gyuvin wants to roll his eyes, partly because they couldn’t have come up with a lamer excuse even if they tried, they unknowingly sabotaged his unplanned confession, and cause the strongest avenger is obviously Scarlet Witch.

He decides against it, rather locking eyes with Y/n who he finds is already staring at him, and they exchange equally bashful smiles. Gyuvin isn’t mad at his friends, not when they invade his and Y/n’s space to help clean the last of the mess, and not when they use the rest of the lunch period to bombard them with questions like, ‘have you read kimetsu no yaiba?’ and ‘where would you go if a zombie apocalypse broke out?’ (they answered with staying in Seoul, which prompted Taerae to blatantly tell them they’re going to die, which in turn earned himself a slap from Gyuvin).

He isn’t mad because he still has a chance: today, at 3:00 in room 124 after school like his letter specified. He hopes, some way, that through the piles of letters and candies and plushies and whatever the hell else, they somehow recognize Gyuvin’s from the crowd, and pick him.

It’s time.

It’s time, and Gyuvin’s got it all figured out: Although school’s ended 45 minutes ago, he knows Y/n is part of the cooking club, so he isn’t keeping them behind or anything. He used that time to run to the flower shop a few minutes away and get them their favorites along with a stuffed animal. The classroom he initiated the meeting place in was one that was barely used by students, let alone teachers, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Oh! And it’s on the first floor, so if Jiwoong happened to find out about his advances and decided to sabotage him with his friends, then he could jump out the window without sustaining any injuries.

Gyuvin’s got it all figured out, so why’s he practically shitting bricks right now?

There are a lot of reasons really— the main one being the fear of rejection which he’s afraid he’ll never be able to live down which will lead to him maybe most certainly doing something drastic.

But it’s 2:58, two minutes before Gyuvin’s letter says for them to meet, and he has to pull himself together. He decides pacing around the room a billion times isn’t gonna do the trick, so he opts out to sitting on the teacher’s desk instead, setting the flowers and plushie behind him. He pulls out his phone and at the same time receives a text from Eunseok.

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: let us know how it goes 🫡 also please don’t die today

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: taerae brought danganronpa and you know how he likes to voice the lines aloud. you’re nagito we need you

Along with Taerae’s ridiculous gaming antics, Gyuvin finds it amusing how Eunseok also thought about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, and it makes him laugh, somewhat calming his nerves down. It’s comforting to know that if this confession doesn’t end up going well, he’ll at least have his friends to fall back on.

“What’s so funny?”

The sudden voice echoes through the empty classroom and Gyuvin almost lauches his phone through the ceiling with the way he jumps.

His heart drops a million times over and he nearly passes out, but he doesn’t, as an angel was sent before him. The angel, if you will.

Standing by the now closed door was Y/n, the sun cascading over their skin to only amplify the seemingly everlasting glow on their face. The same tender smile that they gave Gyuvin a few hours earlier was back, and he looks down and—

They’re holding his letter.

Out of the swarm of all the pinks and reds, through the heart-shaped candies and the softest plushies, none of them are in sight but Gyuvin’s. Gyuvin’s, with the stupid Evangelion washi tape on the side preventing the envelope from falling open after he accidentally ripped it, the one with animal crossing stickers plastered every which way because Y/n mentioned the game once, the one with emoticons drawn on by Gyuvin himself in hopes of standing out in the sea of letters: it was in the grasp of Y/n’s hands, fiddling with the edges as they approach Gyuvin in what to him feels like slow motion.

He honestly feels like he could cry. Oh shit, is he crying? Gyuvin sets his phone down to raise a hand to his cheek, which is thankfully dry, but the action brings him back to reality and he realizes that he’s been staring for longer than normal, so he manages to use the little breath he has left to muster what he can.

“You came.” It’s not much, but it’s the best he can do, and way better than just staring at them in pure silence.

“Of course I did.” They say it like it’s the most obvious thing ever, which only serves to throw Gyuvin off even more.

“But- what about everyone else?” What he really wants to say is ‘why me?’ Throughout the day he’d pass by their locker, their desks, even Y/n themselves; everyone seeking them out were more than worthy candidates. Whether it were their looks, their popularity, or the fact that they were confident enough to confess straight to their face— all of them were more worthy than Gyuvin could ever be. So why were they here, at 3:00 pm in room 124 like the letter read?

They shrug, a knowing smile plastered on their face. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah.” He opens his mouth, breathing in a handful of air before speaking again, “...I forgot what I was gonna say.”

It wasn’t a total lie! He was caught completely off guard, it was kinda expected to forget the speech he’s been practicing for weeks now. It doesn’t seem to phase Y/n though, for they simply shrug again, and begin to remove the letter from the envelope in their hand. “That’s okay. Maybe if we read your letter it’ll jog your memory.”

‘Dear Y/n,

I know we aren’t close, but you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before. Please meet me in room 124 @ 3:00pm today, so that I can express my feelings in full.

— Kim Gyuvin’

It sounded like poetry when Gyuvin read it in his head, aloud in his room, and then to his mom for a second voice of opinion (she said he was better than Shakespeare, which went straight to his head). But now Gyuvin isn’t too sure how that made the final cut, he cringes a million times over when they read it out loud.

He scratches the back of his head and tries to hide his mortification as much as possible. “Sorry, I know that’s pretty vague..”

“It’s okay! You can say whatever’s on your mind, I’m all ears.”

Holy shit, this was really happening. He doesn’t know why, but he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Maybe he thought Y/n was too good for him, and he really did think about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, but none of that matters anymore— not when his dream come true is standing right in front of him, when they could be doing anything else right now and they decided to be with him. The fact that they’re even giving him the time of day is enough to fuel him with more confidence than those romance dramas ever could.

He stands up from the desk, and takes a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n, I have for a while now. You’re smart and funny and really pretty, and you’re always nice to me. I know we don’t like all of the same things, but that doesn’t bother me. I want to learn more about you, I want to learn everything about you. I hope you feel the same way, and if not, I understand. I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we graduated without letting you know how I feel.” Without turning around, he reaches for the flowers and stuffed animal, trying his best to steady the nervous look creeping onto his face as he holds the items out between the two of them. “Please be my valentine! And then something more. If you wanted to.”

Gyuvin’s rant has finally come to an end, and he doesn’t realize they’re tearing up until he’s holding the items up for them to take.

Oh my God he’s seriously made Y/n cry, he’s got to end it now. It’s what he’s thinking until his personal space is being invaded by the warmth of the bone crushing hug Y/n has them in before Gyuvin can even apologize.

Despite their face being shoved into his chest, tears wetting his uniform vest, they still manage to muster a coherent response. “I’m glad you told me before graduation. Of course I’ll be your valentine.”

Wait, what? Gyuvin stiffens in their hold when he both realizes that he hadn’t returned their hug and that they said yes?! “Oh my God really? Wait. I’m sorry, I know this is what I like, wanted, but can I ask why?” their hold on Gyuvin releases a bit as he continues, “Is this just you being nice? Cause if so—”

In the span of two seconds, their warmth is gone, and Gyuvin can’t even sulk the lost feeling before he’s being punched in the arm. “Ow!”

Their tear stained face holds a look of offense, like Gyuvin just wronged their entire lineage. “You think I’m crying just to be nice?” Oh, he thinks, thats a good point. “I like you too, dummy. You’re really smart, and you never stoop to people like Jiwoong’s level whenever they bother you. Also, you get really cute when talking about your dog or those games you like.”

They actually listened to his stupid rants? How could he not blush at that? It spreads from his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears, and fails to go unnoticed by Y/n. “And when you blush. You’re just a big cutie.”

Oh Gyuvin’s having one of those love explosions again, but like, a million times worse. This can’t possibly be good for his health. In a poor attempt to hide his bashfulness, Gyuvin brings his hands up to cover his face, his words muffled by the makeshift shield. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this is happening.”

And apparently Gyuvin’s suffering is funny? Because now they’re laughing, coming closer and raising their own hands to grab at Gyuvin’s wrists, successfully pulling them away from his face. “Don’t be shy now! You’ve come so far.”

They’re right, he has come so far. So why cower away now? He’s quite literally got them in the palm of his hands (or vise versa, he should say), and he’ll be damned if he lets them slip away now. With their hands now holding his wrists at their sides, Gyuvin doesn’t have half the mind to think before he’s leaning in, landing a feather-light peck to their lips. ‘Oh fuck, am I doing this right?’ It isn’t until now that Gyuvin remembers he’s never actually kissed anyone before, and panic follows quickly as he pulls away, their faces still mere inches away. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t really know what I’m—”

Their lips are suddenly on each other again, but it’s Y/n who initiates the kiss, and it's beyond better than Gyuvin’s. It’s light and refreshing, like how Gyuvin feels whenever they’re around. Their lips are as soft as their hands in his grip, and he can feel them smiling against his as they continue. He never wants to let go of this moment.

He ends up not minding when it does end though, for when they both pull away, Y/n finally lets his wrists go in favor of holding his face in their hands, which has Gyuvin practically melting into their touch. “If you apologize one more time, I’m going to punch you again.” They smile, despite having just threatened him.

Gyuvin doesn’t mind, though. They could hit him with the force of a hundred meteors, and he’d still forgive them. So he just smiles, basking in the warmth of their hands. “So, what’d you wanna do now?”

Y/n ponders for a moment, and perks up not long after. “Wanna go grab food?”

Oh, Gyuvin could cry. Y/n came straight from the cooking club, where they make full course meals that they get to eat at the end, so there was no reason for Y/n to be hungry. Yet Gyuvin’s lunch was ruined by what’s-his-face, and there was no way he wasn’t starving by now, and they remembered that.

He doesn’t wanna ruin the mood with his crocodile tears, so he sucks up his tears as much as he can, and smiles fondly instead. “Sounds perfect.”

Gyuvin’s still in a minor state of shock when they walk out of the school's doors. The person who he’s been pining over for the past four years likes him back, and they’re going on a date. Is this a date? He doesn’t want to ask, rather basking in the sun from both the sky and the one right next to him. He’s kind of worried that Jiwoong is gonna find out, but he can’t find it in himself to care all that much when his valentine is holding his hand as they make their way to the train station.

He takes note of their warning from earlier, but he has to ask. “Are you okay? Sorry for making you cry.”

Gyuvin’s ready to take a punch, but he’s lightly shoved instead, making the both of them lose their footing a bit before walking in tandem again. “It’s okay. And yeah, you’re just really sweet.” They turn to him and smile, squeezing his hand lightly. “Okay, let’s learn more about each other starting now. What kind of ramen do you like?”

“Wanna check out the new spot downtown and find out?”

Gojo’s boy toys (◕ε◕*)

3:40 pm

You: bros.

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : bro??

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : was that a good bros or a bad bros

You: we kissed

You: we’re going out for ramen now

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : ?$/;&/??@

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : BROOOOOO

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : omg i’m crying

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : gyuvin im crying

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : he is crying gyuvin

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : we’re so happy for you bro.

You: thanks guys 😄

i’ll still be home in time to play so

just sit tight

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : tell y/n i say sorry for saying they have zero survival instinct!!!

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : AND FUCK YOU JIWOONG

a/n: in no way am i implying that doing things like reading manga or playing smash bros is weird, i just took things that’ve gotten me called a nerd 😭😭 also being a nerd isn’t bad i love my nerds 🫡 stream beautiful monster stan p1h get get get get a guitar bai

#yall ngl i don’t watch romance dramas #so idk if that choi woong is a good guy fr #i just looked up male leads don’t come for me!!!#also eunseok is a good wingman bc he has a girlfriend. who is me. im his gf #ZHANGHAO OST SNEAK #gyuvin x reader #gyuvin x you #kim gyuvin x reader #zb1 x reader #zb1 x you #zerobaseone fanfiction #zerobaseone fanfic #zerobaseone x reader #eunseok fanfic #taerae fanfic #gyuvin fluff #gyuvin angst #zb1 fanfic #noelle.writes

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sameschmidtdiffname · 11 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you could do a fic with Mike Schmidt x fem!reader and the quote “can I stack donuts on it?” I apologize in advance 😭

THE FUCKING SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I GOT THISSSSSS BITCH YOU GOT ITTTTTT

Cherries & Cream

Mike Schmidt x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a modest holiday. Spent indoors, soft music on the cassette player... oh, and a collection of bad ideas snowballed into a day of sticky situations

Tags: No use of Y/N, author has fucking lost it, comedy, Valentine's Day fic, mentions of failed masturbation attempts, mentions of inappropriate use of lightsabers and water snakes (I SAID AUTHOR HAS FUCKING LOST IT- DONT ASK, JUST READ, IT AINT THAT BAD!), sex toys, handcuffs, sex dice, pre-established relationship, food sex, blowjob, facial, Mike gets restrained like we all know he wants to be.

Notes: I'm not apologizing for shit.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

"These are ridiculous questions."

"Oh, come on. Don't be a sourpuss," I say. Cards are scattered around the small box on our bed, both of us long deciding we'd clean up later.

"What does it say?" I ask him, leaning forward. I'm straddling his chest, my arms crossed against mine, dressed in nothing but one of his shirts. His hand on my hip is halfway under the black material, his pointer finger twisting the old cotton around his digit. His other hand holds a dark purple card that he rolls his eyes at before shifting them to focus on me towering over him.

"It doesn't even apply to you," he says.

"And how do you know?" I say smugly.

"Because I've sucked your dick and it's not big enough to apply," he says

"What? Give me that." I snatch the card from his hand, ignoring his laughter as he shifts his hand to rest on my other hip, rubbing soothing circles into my skin while I read.

'What's the weirdest thing you have ever stuck your dick in?'

A short laugh escapes me, a bit louder than it should be with Abby sleeping peacefully down the hall.

"I'm waiting," Mike jokes, smiling up at me with his lips twisted into a smug expression of sarcasm.

"I mean, I stuck a toy lightsaber up my snatch once," I say casually.

"What?" He bellows, descending into a fit of laughter so grand his chest is rattling underneath of me, making my face bloom with blood in embarrassment.

"I was fourteen!" I say quickly in my defense. This doesn't help my case, making him cackle loud enough I grab a pillow to shove onto his face to muffle his fit. He grabs my wrists before it can descend, holding them up as he wheezes.

"Oh, Qui-Gon Jin! You're my only hope!" He relaxes his grip slightly, allowing me to stiffle his incessant noise.

"That was Obi-Wan, and I liked Darth Vader!"

His hands shove the pillow away from his red face, eyes teary and judgemental.

"He's burnt!"

"It was the vibe! Mysterious, dark, and that voice!" I protest. Mike makes a pitiful attempt at the sounds of Vader's breathing through his mask, muddled with spit from his laughter. "James Earl Jones has a handsome voice!"

"It's just so hot," Mike cackled.

"Mike."

"Nothing can hold a candle to it."

"Michael."

"Makes me go-" a crude imitation of lightsaber noises is the last thing Mike can communicate before I'm slamming the pillow down on him, making him laugh harder and block his face from my playful blows as he begs for mercy.

"You're a dick!"

"You'd stick yours in one of those- those-" as he regains his breath and I lessen my attacks, he snaps his fingers, one hand slapping gently against my thigh for thought.

"Oh, you know. One of those fucken- the uh..." He makes a jerking motion with his snapping hand, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling like the answer is written on the spot where some poster used to be.

"A hand?" I ask, crossing my arms and glaring down at him.

"No. One of those toys that had like water in them and you could like- I don't know what the point of them was, some sensory thing. There was like water, maybe fish or sparkles stuffed inside," he describes, gesturing his hand as he speaks.

The image begins to click together in my mind. "Oh yeah. Water snakes?" I ask. He slaps my thigh, snapping his fingers and pointing at me with wide eyes.

"That's the fucker. Yeah, you'd stick your dick in that," he says confidently, nodding and relaxing in satisfaction with his statement.

"Okay, but you can like slide those things in and out so honestly that's kind of genius," I say.

"That plastic burns like a motherfucker though. And it's got those seams for the plastic so lube doesn't help," Mike says, one arm curled above his head and his other hand once more rubbing my hip.

"That's descriptive," I say with narrowed eyes. I lean forward, my face hovering above his. His relaxed hazel eyes widen slightly, but only by a hair. His rubbing stutters. His body language is still casual, but has stiffened enough to betray him.

"Just a thought."

"How old were you?"

"I did not- fifteen."

It's my turn to snicker now, picking my pillow back up and smacking him once more in the head.

"Okay, okay. Teenagers are idiots. Next card, next card," he says laughing, hand now searching for a new card from the deck. "Oh my God. What food item would you use during sex- babe, where the fuck did you find this game?"

"It was some dirty Santa gift, got it a couple years ago," I say with the wave of my hand. "Anyways, it's my turn to ask the question."

"Oh right. Pick a new one," he says, flicking the card away.

"Well, hang on now. On the topic of poor sexual choices and food, what would you use for that?" I ask, smirking and crossing my arms across my chest once more. He glares at me, lips pressed firmly together as he narrows his eyes. There's a long silence, neither of us speaking as we decide who's going to break it.

"Donuts," he finally says.

"Donuts?"

"Yeah. They have the hole," he adds as if it explains everything.

"Uh huh."

"Okay, you used a fucking lightsaber, you cannot-"

"I was fourteen, you are twenty-eight. What happens if you squeeze the thing too hard and you've just got crumbs and frosting all over you?" I ask.

"I wouldn't fuck the damn thing. I'd, like, stack them," he clarifies. "Do it like one of those really cheesy porno bits like 'did someone order some food?' And just rip open the trenchcoat to reveal several donuts stacked on my dong."

"Michael, you've put a weird amount of thought into this."

"It's the fucking question!"

"Okayokayokay- so hypothetically," I begin.

"Mm-hmm."

"If I brought home a box of donuts-"

"Nice ones. Krispy Kreme or some shit, I'm not getting sugar in my shit if it's cheap," he insists.

"...glad to know. If I brought home a box of overpriced donuts and a trench coat-"

"Take the coat out, that was a bit."

"Will you let me finish?"

"That'd be the preferred outcome," he interrupts again. "But like, before the donut thing. If it was like, y'know." He thrusts his hips into the air slightly, not to be arousing but to clarify. Because that's the part he can't say out loud. "'Cause you can't get sugar in your snatch."

"You can't get sugar in your snatch," I repeat slowly, blinking.

"Don't ask."

"Right. So if I brought home the Kreme-y goods, you would present yourself to me with a donut dick?" I ask. He rolls his eyes, suppressing a smile.

"Sure."

Valentine's Day. A day for kids and new couples, mainly. And since this household is aging out of both of those demographics, Mike and I had decided to go smaller this year. Not that we went huge every year before, neither of us feeling quite like blowing a shit load of cash on the day. But usually we booked a reservation at a decent restaurant, put on some nicer clothes, and spent the holiday just having a nice family dinner. But Abby was old enough she was itching to attend some sleepover at a friend's house for the holiday, and Mike and I felt fine just ordering in and playing a card game that we usually thumbed through while bored.

"Do 12 year olds even get valentines?" Mike asks, sprawled upon the bed the night before.

"I don't know, I didn't," I shrug. "She's just visiting her friends and wearing pink so they can gorge on chocolate, sounds like a good holiday to me."

He considers this, scratching his jaw as he continues staring at the ceiling.

"Valentine's Day alone. What trouble we could cause," he teases.

"What food are we ordering in for the trouble, anyways?" I ask, looking up from the box of my things I'd been unpacking, hanging up pictures and placing knick knacks around the room and new desk we'd shoved in earlier that evening.

"Chinese?" He asks.

"Gas for Valentine's Day, I'll love that," I say. He laughs. "How about Italian?"

"Makes me bloated, you'll be top," he says. "What are we doing in that department? I mean, we probably should do something."

"You say that like sex is a chore," I say with a raised brow, looking up at him for a moment from the box.

"Oh, hell no," he says. "If that's a chore than it's my favorite."

"Chores typically bring you closer to God."

"Than I'm smokin' it with Jesus, fuck yeah."

At that I laugh, tossing a small box at him that rattles with something inside. He catches it, laughing and pulling it open out of curiosity.

"Oh ho! What are these?" He asks, holding up a small, hot pink cube.

"Oh Jesus, I thought I lost those. They're-"

"Sex dice!" He laughs. "You whore!"

"I'm not a whore, I just went to college!" I laugh defensively. His eyebrows raise.

"Popular?"

"Fuck off," I groan. "My ex bought those, I just kept them."

Mike rolls the dice in his hands, actually sitting up and crossing his legs on the bed before sending them flying across the quilt.

"Suck toe," Mike reads. "That's disappointing."

"We never used toe, we always just picked a different spot," I say.

"Like?" He asks.

"I don't know, it varied. I guess it was kinda a pick your poison spot," I say. "You wouldn't believe how often it lands on toe."

"The universe is trying to tell you something," he says.

"The universe can suck it," I say. Mike rolls one of the dice again.

"Tit. Nice. I'll be acting as ambassador for said universe sucking-"

"You'll be acting as helping me unpack these dresses," I say, setting the box on the bed in front of him. He stands with a sigh, hands on his hips as he awaits his work. I take out a few dresses and lay them in his arms before returning to my work of organizing the closets.

"Hold 'em," I say.

"Just hold them?"

"Yeah."

"You made me get up for this?"

"Before you find the handcuffs in there? Yeah," I say.

"Handcuffs? We've been together for three years, you're moving into my house and now I'm finding out you have handcuffs?" Mike asks incredulously.

"I didn't know that would upset you," I say honestly, shrugging.

"Upset? I've been deprived! You're a freak and haven't taken it out on me!" He says overdramatically. I roll my eyes but smile.

"I'm not a freak, I've only slept with like, two other guys. That's it," I say.

"So the guys were freaks," he says.

"I mean, I wasn't saying no," I admit.

"So you're a freak when asked?"

"You sound like a teenager."

"I sound like a guy who's gonna be home alone with his girlfriend and sex toys tomorrow, yeah, I sound like a teenager," he says.

"Oh, so we're ordering in and banging all night?" I ask, raising a brow in amusement.

"Was that not the plan already?" He asks.

"I wasn't gonna say it, but if you want to."

The night was spent laying out plans of debauchery. After dropping off Abby in the early afternoon at her friends the next day, Mike and I made a slight detour before heading home, where the items were laid out before us.

Whipped cream. Donuts. Handcuffs. Dice. And some cheap, bottom of the $5 bin collection of 'Top 100 Sexy Songs for Valentine's Day' cassette tape that Mike had grabbed from a local music store during our trip.

"Do you ever question the things we do while bored?" Mike asks, staring at the ceiling, butt naked and handcuffed to the bedframe while I straddle his thighs, trying to figure out how exactly I'm gonna do this.

"Do you?" I ask, pinching his soft tip between my fingers.

"I'm starting to," he says, glancing at the can of whipped cream that was starting to sweat on the bedside table beside us. "I had questions before I shaved my junk for this, but I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Good. Keep that philosophy, I think I figured it out," I say, finally leaning for the box of glazed donuts we'd hardly been able to act mature about buying while going through the drive through. We're not seeing the gates of heaven.

"Shouldn't you get me hard first? It's just gonna grow," he says in questioning, trying to look down at what I'm doing.

"No, because then I'll have to keep you hard and that's gonna deflate quickly," I say. He nods in agreement, satisfied and sighing in slight boredom as I begin my task, trying to get the first donut on without breaking.

"Ow! Are- are you trying to fucking fold my shit?" He asks, his voice slightly higher than it was a moment ago.

"You're bigger than the hole, it's gonna break the donut! It's soft, isn't it?" I ask.

"Not that soft!" He says a bit frantic.

"Okay, what if I stretch it out like this?" I ask, tugging his dick upwards.

"I'm gonna ask you not to!" Mike says. His thumbs find the latches for the handcuffs, undoing one so he can reach down himself. "Jesus Christ- you're gonna break me!"

"This is my job," I say amused, giggling as I cover my mouth with my hand.

He ignores me, examining himself and the donut before glaring at the corner of the room, sighing.

"Motherfucker, I've been blessed, goddammit," he groans.

"What a humble statement," I say, trying not to laugh.

"This is humbling enough. Do what you will, I guess," he says, flopping back onto the bed, donut in hand and taking a bite from it as he crosses his ankles beneath me.

"I need that," I say.

"There's eleven more, this is my consolation prize," he says through his mouthful, returning his glare to the ceiling.

"You gonna redo the handcuff?" I ask.

"I'll redo your fucken dad," he snaps, but shoves the rest of the donut in his mouth as he fiddles with the handcuffs once again, groaning as I start on my work.

It takes half an hour, four donuts and a ridiculous amount of whipped cream, but the deed is done. Stepping off the bed, I behold my work of a restrained, glaring, donut stacked and cream covered Mike with a proud smile.

"This was exponentially hotter in my head," he mutters, looking down at himself.

"You don't like it?" I ask.

"I didn't say that, I'm just not drooling over- where are you going?" He asks. I quickly dart out of the room, racing to the kitchen as a series of 'babe?' Rings throughout the house. I open the fridge quickly, find the box of cherries and race back into the bedroom, holding it up as though it were a crown jewel.

"Ohh, my fucking God," Mike loudly drawls, rolling his eyes.

"I almost forgot," I say with malicious glee.

"I wish you had," he says, staring at the ceiling. "You're sick in the head."

"This was your idea."

"I'm sick in the head, I repent, I repent."

Placing a fat cherry carefully on top of the fluffy tip, I smile in true satisfaction.

"Perfect," I say, hands working to undo my house robe, shrugging it off and leaving me in simple lingerie instead.

"Now you faceplant into my dessert dick. Delicious," he deadpans.

"Mike, if you really don't wanna do this-"

"I'm gonna get a fucking UTI, just fulfill the high school fantasy already. I'll have no shame once I'm hard," he spits out quickly, jerking against the restraints slightly in impatience.

Well, that's true enough.

I lean forward, trying to figure out where to start, deciding between bottom or top.

"Babe, this is mortifying, just do some- oh-kay," Mike groans, his hips shifting slightly as I gently suck one of his freshly shaved balls into my mouth, my tongue swirling around it as I grip his thighs. The stack shifts slightly, Mike moaning as he thrusts against nothing.

My mouth works his sack for a little bit, one of my hands trailing down to between his legs to press against the spot behind his balls, making him keen into my touch as he moans loudly, the handcuffs clicking against the frame of our bed as he squirms. When I'm sure he's hardened properly underneath, I remove my mouth, making him whine as I glance up at him, smiling.

"Doing good?" I ask sweetly, pressing my fingers harder into the spot between his legs.

"Still mortifying, just keep going," he moans shamelessly, his cheeks red as he keeps his eyes closed in embarrassment.

I lean down once more, licking at the melting whipped cream on the tip of his cock, his moans growing louder as my tongue finds contact with his cock, his skin cold and wet underneath of the cream. I'm barely able to reach his actual tip, my tongue sticking down far in the hole of the top donut. I begin biting into the food, quickly tearing away at my work in eagerness of what awaits.

There's probably a special place in Hell reserved for the two of us for doing something like this and enjoying it, but I promise you, if you could see the look on his face right now, blushing wildly and trying to hide behind the bulk of his large arm, it would be worth it.

Once the first two donuts are gone I take off the cherry from the top, dangling it over his mouth in teasing.

"Want some?" I ask. He just groans in response, his cock twitching from neglect. I chuckle, tossing the fruit away and quickly taking him into my mouth, drawing a sharp, high moan from him as I suck eagerly, admiring the taste of his skin mixed with the sweet sugar from the food.

Yeah. Definitely worth it.

Pre-cum shoots into my mouth as he rolls his hips into my face, my hand still working against him as I swirl my tongue around his tip, sucking harshly as I watch him. His back arches against the bed, his head thrown back in pleasure as he loses himself in the feeling of my mouth against him.

"Go deeper," he begs, his voice soft as he bucks into my mouth, his arms straining against the handcuffs. "Holy shit, please go deeper."

His hips buck harshly against my face, smashing the two other donuts and an annoying amount of cream into my face, covering me in a facial I didn't ask for.

I pull away from him, stopping my hand and just staying still for a moment to allow him a proper look at my face.

"... I do not like this," I deadpan. I'd blink if I could open my eyes right now.

Small whines escape him as his hips continue moving, questions being voiced then everything ceasing all at once as I guess he takes a good look at me. There's a moment of silence, then he bursts out laughing at the sight, loud and obnoxious.

"It's in your hair!" He exclaims, probably wishing he could point at me as I blindly search for the hand towel nearby.

"I hope this was worth it," I say flatly, suppressing my own giggle.

"Oh, the feeling is awful, but you're doing great," he says sweetly, still chuckling as he watches me wipe at my face, groaning at the stickiness of it all.

"Jesus, I'm a mess," he says, looking down at himself. "Can we just take that off and-"

"Yeah, normal blow job, on it," I finish for him, quickly taking off the other two, very smushed donuts and discarding of them inside the box. "You have horrible ideas "

"You wanted us to try new shit, this is not on me," he laughs, smiling at me. "But thank you for answering a decade old question."

"You're weird," I say.

"Just fuck me," he says back.

Quickly I take him back into my mouth, deepthroating him and encouraging him to fuck my mouth, focusing on my breathing as he does with blind obedience. His thighs press against the sides of my head, squeezing slightly as his tip rams into the back of my throat, all gentleness off the table. My tongue slides against his prominent vein, feeling how he throbs, his cock stiff and twitching from the stimulation. He pants loudly, whining when I press my tongue harder into his vein, a loud 'snap' echoing from near his head.

His movements cease for a moment, his chest heaving as realization crosses his face.

"... the handcuffs weren't expensive, right?" He asks inbetween gasps, holding up his hands to show the cheap cuffs now hanging uselessly around his wrists.

My eyebrows raise in surprise, my head beginning to lift off of him when one of his hands comes down on my head, suddenly gripping my hair as he begins to fuck my mouth with new vigor, tearing lewd sounds from my throat as I gag sharply around him.

"Fuck it, I'll buy another pair," he decides, slamming quickly into my throat as he pulls my hair sharply, his pre-cum beginning to thicken in my mouth. "It's not like you mind, right, sweetheart?" He asks, propping himself up with one arm to watch as I swallow his dick eagerly, one of my hands dipping down to play with my clit. He tugs sharply at my hair, making me whine as his other hand smacks quick and gentle against my hollowing cheek before pointing at me.

"No," he says sharply. "I'll deal with you after."

His hand strokes my cheek as he continues fucking my face, his thumb trained on my chin, keeping my mouth open wide for him. His eyes are glazed over in pleasure as he watches me, my spit dribbling down my chin as I take him, my legs pressed tightly together as I grab blindly at his thighs, admiring the thickness as I gag on his cock.

"Fuck- you're so pretty," he moans, his cock twitching in closeness. "And kind." I moan appreciatively around him, eager to feel his cum down my throat as I dig my nails into his thighs. "Don't know how I got so lucky."

His hand roughly drags my head up by my hair, forcing me off of his cock and making me whine as I try to take him back into my mouth. His hand wraps around his length, pumping quickly as he watches me.

"Keep your mouth open, pretty girl," he commands softly. I obey, sticking out my tongue slightly, eager to please. He smiles at the sight, his lashes fluttering shut once more as he fucks his hand quickly, using my thick spit as lube, beginning to lose rhythm.

"I'm gonna cum," he warns breathily. "I'm gonna- fuck!"

His words stutter as he gasps, his hand squeezing roughly at his cock as his cum hits my face, warm and thick against my skin. We watch each other as the first few ropes cover my face, admiring the other in a hazy cloud of desire and satisfaction. Then he shoves his cock back into my mouth, his hand pumping me up and down his length again as he finishes shooting his load down my throat, admiring my new look.

"I'm just- gonna do this for awhile," he gasps, his cock still stiff in my mouth as his flow of cum begins to slow, his hips still quick in contrast.

I moan around him, my cunt clenching in want.

"Don't worry," he says, reaching for something in the nightstand, pulling open a drawer and revealing his new gift for me. "You'll get some fun too."

When I tell y'all this motherfucker somehow found a dildo shaped like a fucking lightsaber.

Goddammit, I'm gonna marry him.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

You heard me.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

how would y'all feel if I told you the title was a pun from that old 'berries and cream' meme

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ghostboneswrites2 · 11 months ago

Text

Girl of Your Dreams || Part 1

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Summary: Daryl's annoying female sidekick is pestering him.

18+ MDNI: WARNINGS: injury, aggressive Shane, profanity

You were no stranger to pain. The world had been unfair to you from the time you entered it, but this was a whole new level of torture. You had survived the wake of the apocalypse with your only friend, but when you encountered a group of those undead fucks, she didn't make it, and you were left to run for your life all on your own. You were fairly certain you lost the hungry corpses some time ago, but now you had a new dilemma: how to free yourself from a bear trap?

The metal dug into your flesh and crushed the bone beneath. You was beyond painful. You were shocked your cries didn't draw anything in to eat you, but you were ultimately alone until he came along. Wit the sleeves torn off a flannel shirt and a crossbow slung over his shoulder, he'd left the camp by the quarry that day to find some food, hopefully enough to feed everyone but chances of that were slim.

"Ya bit?" Was the first thing he asked, with that raspy voice you would come to find comfort in.

"Gee, I'm fine. Doesn't hurt at all. Thanks for asking." You shot back. A woman of sarcasm, something he could appreciate.

"Show me ya ain't bit and I'll get that thing off ya." He shrugged. You sighed.

"Not bit." You said, holding your bare arms up, showing him the sides of your neck, and finally lifting your shirt to show him a bite-free midriff. He nodded and knelt down on one knee, setting his bow to the side so he could properly dismantle the trap. You winced and sighed in relief at the release of pressure from your ankle. "Thanks." You breathed, pulling up the leg of your jeans to take a good look.

The bruising had already begun, and the flesh was chewed to bits. You went to stand but failed. The pressure on your ankle was too much.

"Great." You grumbled. "Real fuckin' nice."

"C'mere." He said, standing up now as he held his hand out to you. You took it, seeing little other options. Unless, of course, you wanted to wait for the next flesh-starved freak to come stumbling through.

"Thanks again." You grunted as you pulled yourself up. You managed to stand on one foot, but there was no way you could walk without aide.

"C'mon. Got a camp not too far from here." He told you. And there it was, the beginning. Of course the other campers didn't take so kindly to a new mouth to feed, especially one that could barely walk, but Daryl made sure you had your place, and that earned your respect. It also earned your kindness, which was hard to come by for anyone. You weren't the friendly type, more of the shut-up-and-don't-breathe-in-my-space type. Shane, most of all, was your least favorite. The whole self-proclaimed leader thing got under your skin fast, and he was the first to voice his concerns about your presence among the others. After all, he had a girl and a kid to look out for, which you'd come to find out later weren't even his, but his best friend's, who he told them was dead. He wasn't, though, and he showed up a couple weeks later. Glenn and the others brought him back instead of Merle, Daryl's brother.

Daryl was outraged to say the least, and when they went back for his kin, they only found a hand where he should have been. Walkers attacked camp the that night, when Daryl and the others were in the city, and you only fucked up your ankle more fighting the sons of bitches off. Still, you prevailed. You always did. You were a survivor.

In the following weeks, between burning and burying bodies, finding and escaping the CDC, and getting stranded on the highway only to wind up on a farm, you and Daryl had grown pretty close. You comforted him with your silent presence as he coped with the loss of his brother, and once you could walk again you aided in a lot of the search for Sophia.

You went with him on a particularly hot day, carrying the extra water for the two of you, telling him all about how you couldn't take anymore of Shane's pestering. Apparently now that Lori had pushed him away for Rick, he had taken up a newfound fondness of you and your smart mouth.

"It's like -- I tell the guy to fuck off and his heart eyes grow bigger." You complained. Scoffed a little laugh and shook his head. Not necessarily interested in your drama, but curious nonetheless. Any excuse to tell Shane off would've been a green light to him. You continued. "You know yesterday he tried to come in my tent when I was asleep?"

Daryl stopped walking and eyed you intently, waiting for more.

"Yeah, dude. I was asleep when it happened. Woke up to him running his hand up my thigh. So, if you notice any dark coloration around his eye, it's cause I kicked him. In the eye." You explained.

Daryl chewed on his lip and continued walking. You handed him some water to drink as you sipped some yourself. After pushing a little further he sighed.

"Let's take a break an' eat somethin'." He suggested. You happily obliged, sitting crisscross on the forest floor, unwrapping a napkin with some nuts and dried fruit for the two of you to share.

"He didn't hurt ya or nothin'?" He asked. You shrugged.

"If he did, I promise he'd have gotten more than a foot in his eye."

"Mm." He nodded. "You know I'd kill him, if he did."

"Awe, are you sweet on me Dixon?" You teased, grinning as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He glared at you.

"Ain't sweet on no one." He grumbled.

"Except me."

"Shut up."

"It's okay. I know you put that trap out to catch a girl like me. Lucky for you, I was dumb enough to step in it." You gloated. He got so flustered when you joked like that, but you enjoyed it. As gruff as he was, he was the shy type which made him all the more attractive. You loved a good mystery.

"Nah, I placed that trap out lookin' for the woman of my dreams an' got stuck with you." He joked. You gasped, mocking an appalled expression.

"You mean, I'm not the woman you always dreamed of?"

Actually, you kind of were, now that he thought about it. He'd need a woman that could handle his brother, and in the short time you spent with the man you handled him quite well. He needed a woman who didn't need to be coddled, a woman with a sharp tongue and an independent nature. Someone who didn't need him, who only kept him around because she liked him. You did check all those boxes.

"You first." He grunted.

"Me first what? Are you asking if you're the man of my dreams?" You asked. He shrugged, picking at the last of the food in his hands. "Well, I never dreamed of a man, to be honest. Just figured I'd find one, one day, that didn't get on my every last nerve."

"Did you?" He wondered.

"Nope." You laughed. "They all pissed me off. Except you. You're alright, I guess." You shrugged.

"Guess you ain't so bad." He returned the compliment, if you could call it that. You smiled sweetly, staring down at the crunchy brown leaves.

"Not bad at all, for someone you got stuck with." You said.

"Stuck? Nah. I'd have got rid of ya by now if I didn't want ya around."

"So you do like me."

"Didn't say that."

"Mmm. Ya kinda did." You pushed.

"What if I do? Don't change nothin'."

"Nope. It doesn't." You chirped, before leaning in close to him and whispering; "'Cause I already knew ya did."

He sighed and pushed you away, you chuckling in the process.

"Were you always this annoyin'?" He asked.

"Yes, indeed. I'm vexing by nature. Is that a deal breaker?"

"Depends how long it takes you to shut up."

"Oof." You winced. "That was cold."

"Please. You ain't that soft."

"Only for you, Darlina." You said. Normally he'd snap at anyone who called him that. Only Merle ever got away with it and that was mostly just due to the fact he had no energy to argue with Merle. Getting a reaction out of him would have only pushed Merle to say it more, anyways.

"You keep pushin' your luck, girl, and we're gonna have problems."

"Oh?" You raised your brows. "Do tell."

"Won't have to. I'll just show ya. Keep tryin' me and find out."

"Was that a threat? 'Cause I'll be honest with ya, you're just getting me excited."

He shot you a sideways glance, smirking a little at the suggestiveness of your comment. This girl ain't got no idea what she's gettin' into, he thought.

That night at camp, when Shane found you alone, adding your clothes form the day to the dirty laundry, Daryl was watching from afar.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into everybody." He began. "You've been out there with him. You can tell them there haven't been any leads. We're wasting resources and manpower, here."

"Sure! I'll do that!" You said with sickeningly sweet sarcasm oozing from your tongue. The prideful officer clenched his jaw tightly at your act of disrespect. "Only, I won't, because we've found two leads already."

"Oh, right, a doll he almost died for and a blanket in a cupboard." He scoffed. "What is it with you and him, huh? You out there fuckin'? Or do you really just enjoy wasting everyone's time and supplies."

"Everyone? Last I checked, it's just been me and him out there the last few days. Nobody else. And, even if we were fucking, it'd be none of your concern." You spat, stabbing your finger into his chest with malice. He gripped your wrist as you did so, hard, might you add. Tight enough that it actually hurt. You tried to yank you arm away to no avail. You were strong, but he was stronger.

"Let me go, asshole." You said through gritted teeth. He didn't. Instead he held you still and leaned his face close to yours.

"Let me make somethin' real clear to you, little girl--"

"There a problem?" Daryl asked, suddenly appearing behind Shane.

Shane grinded his teeth together, a blazing glare burning into you for only a second before he let go of your wrist and turned to Daryl. You held your wrist to your body, rubbing it.

"Nah. No problem." Shane said lowly before he stormed away, maintaining eye contact with Daryl for some time as he did so. When Shane was far enough for comfort, Daryl stepped over from you and grabbed your hand, looking over your wrist. It was still white with Shane's finger prints and he wouldn't be surprised if it bruised later.

"You alright?" He asked, letting your hand fall back down.

"Yeah." You nodded, watching as Shane disappeared into the darkness. "Thanks."

"C'mon." He told you, throwing his arm over your shoulder and leading you toward his own tent. "You're stayin' with me in case he tries anythin'."

"A sleepover? So soon? No dinner first?" You joked.

"Shut up." He said, holding his tent open for you to climb in. When you were inside, he followed, and made sure you had a place to get comfy. "This alright?" He asked, referring to his sleeping bag that he had completely unzipped and laid out flat like a palette.

"Perfect." You smiled, laying down on one side. He laid down on the other side, on his back. You were on your side, facing him, still rubbing your wrist. He took notice.

"Still hurt?" He asked.

"No, actually. It's just weird. I can still feel his hand around me, you know?"

"Well he won't get ahold of ya in here." He told you. You smirked.

"I know."

"You know?"

"Uh-huh." You nodded, smugly. "'Cause you wont let anything happen to the girl of your dreams."

He scoffed, laughing silently to himself as he shook his head, eyes on the ceiling of the tent.

"Whatever, (Y/N). G'night."

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x female reader

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thatapostateboy · 4 months ago

Text

just for one day

Pairing: Eva 'Rook' Mercar x Davrin, background mention of Solas x F!Lavellan

Word Count: 2957

Synopsis: Rook steals some time away with Davrin

Warnings: Brief description of battle and suggestive sexual comments, written pre-release so may be OOC, does contain some spoilers but they are very mild and only stuff from the first mentions/trailers so read at your own peril

Crossposted: Here on AO3

“Why are we hiking up a mountain fully armed and armoured, but without any backup?” Davrin asked.

Rook glanced around at him from where she was leading the way, “Well that would ruin the whole point of it being a surprise, now wouldn’t it? Besides, we’re not fully without backup.”

She nodded upwards to where Assan was soaring overhead, having followed the pair of them as they headed through the eluvian out of the Lighthouse, and into what looked like remote Orlesian wilderness.

“You must be expecting trouble, else you wouldn’t have insisted on the armour,” he pointed out.

“The whole world’s in trouble,” she reminded him, “I just figured we could do with blowing off a little steam.”

“If you wanted somewhere more public to blow off some steam, I am sure there are places in the Lighthouse we could-”

“Not like that!” she snorted, pausing in her steps to look at him, “Though, keep that thought in mind, I’m interested where it’s going, and I appreciate you going along with what you thought was an exhibitionist kink. My actual plan was for us to go on a monster hunt.”

“Really?”

“You’re a monster hunter who’s had to fight some stuff well beyond your pay grade recently, and I thought we could go back to basics. You get to show me all your fancy moves, Assan will get some practice in, I get to swoon over how hot you look, and we get to fight something that isn’t world-ending together.”

He chuckled softly then met her eyes. The last mission, well, every mission since they had met, had meant losing more than winning. And even when they won, it had come at a cost. He knew how hard she took every loss, even if she hid it behind sharp wit and unending sarcasm, there was no doubting the toll it took on her. He suspected that this was as much a distraction for her as it was intended for him.

“Okay then, monster hunting it is,” he smiled, receiving one in return, the true unmeasured smile that she reserved specifically for him… and Assan, though he’d never point that out, “What are we hunting?”

“A wyvern.”

“Have you ever faced a wyvern before?” he asked as he continued to follow her up the mountain path.

“No, but how hard can it be to kill one?” she shrugged, throwing a smirk back at him, “Orlesians do it for fun.”

~*~*~

As it would turn out, it was much harder to kill a wyvern than she had originally planned. The beast had been twice the size of what she had been in one of Davrin’s books, which had led to this idea, and its venom had stung like an absolute bitch when she dodged one of its attacks too slowly. The next blow, however, had been blocked expertly by Davrin’s shield, effortlessly holding off the creature’s maw and he’d had to shout at her to stop staring and stab the damn thing.

She’d shot him a grin and a wink and slid under his legs to slice at the wyvern’s throat. It had thrashed and roared in pain, knocking both Warden and Shadow Dragon flying with its flailing body. It began to charge towards Eva, but all it took was a decisive whistle from Davrin and a bolt of feathers and sharp claws came tearing down from the sky, finishing the beast with a deadly strike.

Assan looked up and chirped at Davrin, wide eyes seeking praise for the kill.

“Good boy,” he said, giving him a well-earned scratch behind the ears.

The griffon preened then began to tuck into the tough flesh of the wyvern after Davrin gave him an approving nod.

The Warden wiped the beads of sweat away from his forehead as he looked for his companion, spotting her propped against a rock, not far from where the wyvern had tossed her, staring away from the scene of the battle, into the valley below.

“Eva,” he called to her, “Are you alright?”

She leapt to her feet, spinning to look at him with a wide grin across her face, her hair a complete mess, face and armour splattered with blood. She all but threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and pressing a hard kiss to his mouth.

He hummed in surprise, but kissed her back nonetheless, enjoying the warmth of her form against his. She was still a little breathless, the tremble of adrenaline coursing through her body. He felt her starting to tug on the buckles of his armour, loosening it just enough to slip her hands inside, desperate to feel the heat of his skin.

He knew this dance far too well. He had roughly thirty seconds before she used those quick roguish fingers to get him down to his breeches.

“How quickly do you think we can get back to the Lighthouse?” he asked, words barely out of his mouth as she kissed him hungrily again, and again.

She paused, looking up at him, “What happened to indulging my exhibition streak?”

“I have no qualms about getting you naked in a field,” he admitted, before he reached a hand up to rub some grime away from her face, “But we are both covered in blood, and guts, and gods knows what else… So perhaps we park this, and reconvene in the bathhouse?”

She met his eyes, a little scrunch to her nose as she conceded that he was being sensible, “Counteroffer… we go wash off in the lake and you can still have me naked in a field.”

“What lake?”

“The one about five minutes that one down the path,” she hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

He cocked a brow at her, “Is that what you were looking at after the fight?”

“Perhaps.”

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself, “Counteroffer accepted.”

She grabbed hold of his hand and yanked him towards the path, giving him just enough time to shout at Assan to stay put and enjoy the wyvern carcass.

~*~*~

He had to admit, the lake had been an excellent idea.

The lake itself sat in a beautiful clearing, surrounded by trees on one side, part of the mountainside on the other, giving them complete privacy and serene surroundings… until Rook had gone barelling past him, clothes abandoned in her wake, leaping into the water before loudly yelling that it was Maker fucking blasting bastard cold.

He had chuckled as he watched her splash around, before stripping off himself, her eyes immediately on him as he bared himself to her, wading calmly into the lake to join her.

She latched herself onto him instantly, seeking his natural warmth, and steadier form as he quickly realised that she was not a confident swimmer. Not that he minded of course, it meant being able to hold her against him, feel every inch of her as she clung to him, giddy and breathless as they lazily kissed, the adrenaline from the fight melting away as they enjoyed the peace to simply be together.

It had, of course, still ended with the pair of them twisted together beneath the boughs of a willow tree, laying atop his discarded cloak so that she didn’t get grass in her hair.

“I could get used to this,” she said softly as she rested her against his chest, idly tracing old scars on his skin.

“You once told me you’d rather eat halla shit than willingly camp outside. I think this evening might be a one off,” he pointed out with a chuckle.

“Hey, that was months ago,” she protested with a laugh of her own, “I feel like I’ve grown as a person since then. Besides, my partner is a Dalish monster hunting Grey Warden. I think some camping may come with the territory. I’m not saying that I’m going to be getting vallaslin or reaching for the Joining cup again time soon, but if we live through this, if we actually save the world and get our lives back… I think I could get used to more days like this.”

He glanced down at her, taking in the look in her eyes.

It wasn’t often that she was emotionally vulnerable with him, even less that she spoke of the future. She focused on the present, on the dangers directly in front of them. She wasn’t one to hope for anything past surviving day to day. Even when they had begun their love affair, it had started as something borne from mutual attraction and seeking some company. It was meant to be one night, and then back to being colleagues in the morning. And yet, it had kept happening. They would seek each other out for physical comfort, a distraction, and soon it had become more than that; spending hours talking about their pasts, getting to know the different sides of elven culture from each other, laughing and joking about the most ridiculous things, tucking her in as she fell asleep in the chair in front of his fire.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t begun to think of a future, what it would look like if they truly made it through this. He would still be a Grey Warden, there would always be monsters to fight, but there wouldn’t always be a reason for Eva to be at his side… not unless she chose to be.

She had a life of her own outside of the Veilguard. She was a Shadow Dragon, she had fought for years against corruption in Tevinter, giving everything she had in the fight for freedom for every slave. And beyond that, she had a home that she some day wished to return to.

And now, here she was, looking at him with an almost pleading expression, seeing if he wanted the same thing; a future that they could decide on together.

He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first before he deepened it, pulling her flush against him.

“Evanura,” he whispered against her mouth, “Ar lath ma.”

~*~*~

The next morning

“Solas, can I ask you something?”

She was drawn into their shared pocket of the Fade, the one he existed in physically that she could see into in her mind’s eye to allow them to communicate.

He stepped before her, and she watched a small, familiar smirk cross his face, as it often did when she said something that entertained him, “You rarely ask permission before bombarding me with questions.”

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t be a smart ass, I just need your help translating something.”

“Very well,” he nodded, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, “I will assist where I am able.”

“It was a phrase I heard, I mean- came across when… reading.”

“Go on.”

“I believe it to be elven, but I have never heard it before, not even in the long tirades where you are chiding me for something.”

He chuckled a little at that, “It may be colloquial to the more modern Dalish elves, but I am sure I can trace it back to its root.”

“It was… ar lath ma.”

And for the first time in more years than he could fathom, the Dread Wolf was struck silent.

He remembers the first time he’d said it to her, unable to control himself as he finally gave in to her for the first time. Not in the Fade, but in physical flesh, the taste of her mouth still lingering on his lips, the warmth of her skin still palpable even as he pulled away, murmuring the words as he did, a confession that he hoped she had never heard.

She had been kind, had not chased after him, had given him the time to say it again when he was ready.

Until that night at the Winter Palace, when he had danced with her under the stars, and she had invited him back to her chambers. He had tried to stay away, but she proved to be his weakness. She had said it herself then, declared so boldly that he wondered if the lingering servants and spies in the hall had heard her. She had kissed him, whispering the words sweetly against his skin as they both gave in to temptation

It was always in elven, their pet names, the soft ‘ma’lath’ and ‘vhenan’ they would call each other, the declarations of love… until that night in Crestwood. She had said it to him then, a hitch in her breath as she held back tears, telling him that she loved him.

Don’t do this, not now… I love you.

And when he had seen her again, the day she discovered the truth, and she had questioned it any of it had been real. If only she could have known that it was the only real thing he knew anymore.

He snapped back to himself when he realised that Rook was still in front of him, looking at him concerned.

“Da’len…” he said quietly, “You know what it means.”

“This isn’t the time for one of your ‘Eva doesn’t listen to me’ lectures. I have never heard those words before.”

“Evanura,” he sighed her name, “Listen to your instincts. You know what your Warden feels.”

“How did you know that’s where I heard it? Besides, he’s not my-“ she began to protest in her usual fashion until the realisation hit her, “Wait! That’s… it means…?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit! But that’s…” a look of dawning horror crossed her face, “Oh I’ve fucked up.”

He frowned, “What did you do?”

“He may have said that… and I may have walked away from him.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You didn’t ask what it meant?”

“I was embarrassed. I’m starting to learn the language from you, and from him, and Bellara, but I didn’t know that one so I just, kinda… laughed it off.”

“Go find him.”

“But-”

“It is a rare thing, to find someone who holds your heart. He knows you well enough to know you are not cruel… Go to him.”

~*~*~

Across the Lighthouse, sat with a frown on her face, Harding levelled a look at Davrin.

“So what exactly did you say?”

“Well, we were both covered in wyvern blood, and-”

“Yeah, I don’t need to hear the details of how you guys had sex in the woods.”

“How did you know?”

“Neither of you are subtle, and I helped Rook scout the place out,” she admitted, “Get to the part where you confessed your undying love and she ignored you.”

“It was… after,” he said, “We were laying together under this willow tree, watching the sun set over the lake, it was beautiful, and peaceful, it was the most perfect moment. So I kissed her, and then I looked into her eyes and said ar lath ma. And she stared at me for a second before she just smiled, got up and declared that she was going swimming. She jumped right into the lake. It’s not even that she didn’t say it back, or if she told me it was too soon, but she just ignored that I said it.”

Harding raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re an idiot.”

“Wait- why?”

“Just think about it. For a minute. Think about why she might have ignored you saying ar lath ma.”

She watched him intently before he let out a gasp and put his face in his hands, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are.”

~*~*~

She burst out of the doorway at the base of one of the towers, heading quickly across the courtyard towards Davrin’s quarters when she saw a familiar figure leaving from the other building, striding purposefully towards her.

“Eva!” he called to her, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. There’s something I need to tell you.”

She reached for him as they met, grasping at his hands like she was scared he was going to disappear in front of her, “I know. I need to talk to you too.”

“Eva, I love-”

“Davrin, ar lath-”

“You.”

“Ma.”

They looked at each other with giddy smiles, still clutching to each other’s hands.

“Wait… you know what that means?” he asked.

“I didn’t, until about three minutes ago,” she admitted.

“How did you… Oh gods, you asked Solas, didn’t you?”

She chewed her lip, “Maybe.”

“Well, the Dread Wolf knows far too much about my love life as it is already. What’s one more thing?”

She giggled, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Do you mean it? What you said, did you really mean it?”

“Of course. I love you, Eva, ma lath, ma vhenan, and whatever the future brings, I want to be at your side.”

“I love you too. You make me want something after this, a life together, something to fight for.”

“Can you two just suck face already?” Taash called from one of the nearby balconies where they turned to realise that all of the other members of the Veilguard had gathered outside of their prospective rooms to see this confession come to fruition.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint our audience,” Rook grinned, leaning up and kissing him.

He wrapped his arms tight around her, dipping her back a little like he had seen described in those terrible romance novels Varric wrote, earning shouts and applause from their friends.

Whatever happened, whatever tragedies they would face tomorrow or the day after, they were both willing to fight for something more, a life beyond, and even if it would never come to pass, they had today, this moment, and nothing, no ancient elven god or even his Calling, would take that from them.

#dragon age #davrin #rook #rook x davrin #solas #solavellan #datv #veilguard spoilers #spoilers are very mild and only stuff from the first mentions/trailers so read at your own peril #dragon age the veilguard #writing

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deliciouskeys · 8 months ago

Text

Cozy Corner Domaystic Prompt #18: Snow Day

Maevlander, 2.5K, rated T. AO3 link.

Jan 23 2016

“I just don’t really understand,” Homelander grumbles, pacing back and forth in front of the large glass wall in Maeve's apartment, periodically stopping and looking out the window.

“Which part don’t you understand,” Maeve asks wearily, not looking like she really wants an answer, still in pajamas, still lounging in bed vaping as she stares blankly at the TV screen mounted on the wall with the news on silent, the red ticker-tape at the bottom listing school and university closings in New York and New Jersey. “It’s a city-wide travel ban. Vought headquarters had to close for business today and tomorrow. I’m sure some people came in anyway.”

“I don’t remember New York City shutting down because of a little snow in recent years. Don’t we pride ourselves on infrastructure? Don’t tell me they can’t clear the roadways. And come on, Vought should be one of the last places to shut down because of a little weather!”

“John, it’s literally the weekend. And there’s like three feet of snow on the ground.”

“They said 29 inches.”

“Well however much it is, it’s enough for them to declare an emergency.”

Homelander leans his forehead against the glass staring down. “If it’s really so dangerous, why is Central Park full of people sledding?”

Maeve cocks her head. “You really don’t know what to do with yourself on a day off, huh.”

“Nooo...” Homelander drags out the word, trying to be patronizing but Maeve is unfazed. “I’m just saying. I could clear the roads in an hour all by myself if the mayor or governor thought to ask.”

“I’m sure you could.” Maeve rolls her eyes.

“What, you don’t think so? I could melt Manhattan in a fifteen minute flyby.”

“Yeah, people will be delighted to see you light every street on fire.”

“I wouldn’t be setting anything on fire.” Homelander sounds defensive and it makes Maeve smile.

“Nobody asked you to melt anything,” Maeve says, groaning. “Why can’t you just give things a rest and let people enjoy a snow day?”

“Because it’s dangerous! Ambulances can’t get through. Just because there’s a snow day you think people stop having heart attacks?”

“I never knew you were so concerned about people not being able to get to the hospital. Maybe you should go on runs for the hospitals yourself then. Airlift the people having heart attacks.”

Homelander makes a scoffing sound, still staring intently out the large wall-window, the poor people who dared to go sledding on a Saturday not knowing that they were being scrutinized and judged from 90 floors up and 10 blocks away.

“So saving people is beneath you, but standing there bitching about how few people came into work today isn’t? You can really tell you never got to experience a snow day in childhood, Mr. Grinch.”

Homelander turns toward her sharply at the last part. Maeve wonders if she’s gone too far now that his gaze has been torn away from the rabble on the ground and directed at her. It's never a good idea to bring up his childhood. But he cracks a smile instead of getting angry at her bluntness and walks over to the bed, sweeping his cape off to the side before sitting down.

“Fine, Maeve, enlighten me. Tell me what makes snow days so fucking magical.” The sarcasm in his tone is off the charts, but his gloves are off and Maeve has learned to recognize that that’s a sign that he wants intimacy, no matter what he says or how it sounds. She cautiously slides her hand into his and she can see an endearing uncertainty and neediness flicker across his face, his expression settling into something softer.

“It’s nothing complicated. You’d wake up in the morning and pray for the robocall to your parents’ landline to tell them school was out. And if you were lucky enough to have a snow day, you had the entire day free to play in the snow.”

“Like, what, build snowmen?”

Maeve smiles at the defensiveness of his tone. He’s so intent on proving to her that he didn't miss out on anything important.

“When you’re little, yeah. Snowball fights, snowmen, snowforts. When I was a bit older, my dad would take me skiing sometimes.”

“Is skiing fun?” Homelander asks, looking away from her and staring off into a corner of the room, but still holding her hand.

“Yeah. I haven’t done it in a while. But when I was seven, I got my own skis and everything. It’s cheap thrills for a kid, I suppose. You can speed up like all hell if you go down a steep enough slope."

“Would you like to go skiing?” Homelander asks, and despite some misgivings Maeve realizes that she would like to. She relents and says yes. Anything has to be better than being cooped up in the Tower having an argument in her apartment about why people have no work ethic.

Homelander seems to brighten right up when she asks to go. Maybe Maeve underestimates how lonely and lost he feels without a daily agenda, without a script telling him where to be and what to do for most of the day. She's saved him from unstructured time.

“You’re going in that?” Homelander asks, wrinkling his nose slightly at the civilian winter clothes she's changing into.

“You don’t really expect me to ski in my skimpy uniform, do you?”

Homelander shrugs. “I’m just going as I am.”

“Yeah, you won’t be the only douchebag on the slopes wearing spandex, so you might as well.” Maeve looks him over. “You don’t think you can leave the cape at home?”

Homelander gives her a look that says she must be crazy to suggest that.

He flies her in his arms all the way to New Hampshire, where there’s plenty of snow but no blizzard going on, and where the slopes turn out to be more crowded than either of them would probably like.

They have to rent skis of course. Maeve is about to pay for both of them but the employees frantically shake their heads, and assure her it's on the house and that it’s such an honor that she and Homelander have decided to grace their humble ski resort with their presence. Maeve is pretty sure they wouldn’t have recognized her had her partner in crime been wearing anything slightly less conspicuous than full regalia.

Homelander looks skeptical when he’s asked to try on ski boots. As if the boots he came in with are any less of a fashion faux pas, Maeve smiles to herself. The poor teenager helping them starts to visibly sweat when Homelander waves him off dismissively after he offers them helmets. The staff are starstruck and ask for selfies with the two heroes, and a picture of the two of them to hang up on the bulleting board. Homelander and Maeve indulge them for a few minutes before finally heading outside with skis and poles in hand.

“Why are these boots so awkward?” Homelander asks as he follows her out of the lodge and into the snow.

“Because they’re not for walking,” Maeve grumbles. Homelander watches and mimics her as she puts the skis on. She should be grateful that he’s humoring any of this at all. Even if she’s wondering whether she’d enjoy this outing a lot more alone, there is something entertaining about seeing Homelander navigating mundane everyday life with none of his usual self-assurance.

She leads him to the ski lift, the people in line behind them clearly debating whether these were real celebrities or just really good cosplay. Homelander ends up signing a few autographs before Maeve tugs him forward to get in position for the lift.

“So this is just to bring people up the mountain?” he questions, looking around and swinging his skis like a bored kid. And maybe that’s what he is, Maeve thinks.

“Yeah,” she says. As they ski down the small ramp at the top of the lift, Homelander is clearly just taking his cues from her. Maeve hasn’t done this in so long that she hesitates and turns toward the intermediate difficulty slope. Homelander simply follows. He glides with relative ease for someone who’s never been on skis before. Then again, Maeve realizes that he’s not really skiing. As they head down the slope, she decide to stop abruptly. He glides down a little bit past her before halting and skiing himself backwards up the slope to stand in parallel with her.

Maeve smirks. Just as she thought. “Quit being creepy.”

“What?” he asks, and seems genuinely confused.

“What you’re doing isn’t skiing. Stop hovering and put your full weight on the snow.”

Homelander shrugs and visibly settles himself deeper into the snow’s surface.

“Skiing is about getting momentum from sliding down the mountain on two thin pieces of wood, not flying around pretending to ski.”

Maeve expects him to roll his eyes or get defensive and snarky. But Homelander just stares at her and even nods slightly as if she’s some guru dropping knowledge on him.

“You pivot and turn abruptly to stop. You can use your poles to help push off and change direction.” He’ll get annoyed at being tutored at some point, right?

But Homelander still nods. And before Maeve can push off herself, he starts down the slope, looking much less smooth this time, apparently testing things out, trying to do it by her rules. She still suspects he’s using his powers when he stops and looks back at her as if to ask ‘did I do it right this time?’ She skis down to join him.

“Yeah just like that. You’re getting the hang of it.”

They finish the run and get back on the lift, more and more of the crowd at the bottom wisening up to the fact that they’ve got a celebrity among them, but Homelander signs fewer autographs this time before getting on the lift again.

Maeve's getting strangely emotional, sitting here, legs dangling far above the treetops, feeling like she’s gone back in time, almost forgetting who this is. Homelander isn’t her dad. They’re nothing alike, even if she hates both of them. And yet, sitting here in the lift chair takes her back to the times she misses so much, before her dad impressed upon her that becoming part of a Vought-sponsored team should be her goal in life.

“Sorry, I know the lift must be boring when you can just ski up the mountain,” Maeve says. She doesn’t know why she’s apologizing.

Homelander shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I like sitting here with you.”

When he wraps his arm around her, Maeve can’t believe she starts crying. Homelander looks confused and retracts his arm.

“Did- did I hurt you?” he asks, and there’s not an ounce of disdain in his voice, only worry.

“No, it’s nothing,” Maeve says, laughing it off and furiously wiping the tears away. “I just remembered the last time I went skiing with my dad. We never really got along. But I did like to go skiing with him.”

Homelander looks at her, and– even though he can’t possibly understand how she feels– uncannily enough manages to look sympathetic, and she doesn’t even flinch when he wraps his arm around her again, squeezing her closer.

The moment is only ruined by a wolf whistle from the chair behind them.

Homelander’s head starts swiveling back but Maeve pushes his chin back so he keeps facing her. She doesn’t even mind when he takes that as a prompt to start kissing. It’s gentle and feels maudlin– the way he prefers it and she doesn’t. When he’s like this, she can almost forget how violently possessive he gets over her, can almost forget how Vought forced her to hide her sexual past and pretend Elena doesn’t exist. Can almost forget how she was forced into a relationship with him– first a PR one for the ratings, then a “real” one, still for the ratings. Can almost forget that Madelyn Stilwell volunteered all sorts of tips about how to navigate his capricious mood swings and exploit some of his strange vulnerabilities, which made Maeve wonder what sort of relationship they had and may still be carrying on. No, she won’t think about any of that while they’re sitting on this ski lift together, the air cool and crisp around them, his skis overlapping with hers.

She decides to go down the black diamond side this time. People gawk. Maeve feels invigorated, brave, fulfilled, and heads over the bumps so fast that she does end falling into the snow ungracefully. Homelander skis up beside her, looking concerned even though she gets up laughing, wiping snow from her face and hair with the back of her gloved hand.

“You okay there?” he asks, clearly not worried that she hurt herself, but maybe a little worried at other skiers witnessing this. There is someone who stopped further up the slope and whipped out his phone, probably filming all this.

“Yeah. Falling’s part of the fun,” she says. “You should try it sometime.”

“No thanks,” he bites off tersely.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get that cape wet,” she mumbles under her breath as she starts heading down the slope again. She knows he heard her, no matter how quietly she said it.

They keep skiing even after sundown, just like she used to do when she was a child, not bothering to take a break for a meal. Truthfully, she has no interest in walking into the lodge cafeteria and creating a commotion of people wanting selfies and autographs. Homelander is just taking her cues, following her around like a puppy the entire time. He doesn’t deign to fall over, not even for her sake, but he takes the lift up each time, never insisting on being an asshole and skiing up the slope or flying to show off. She suspects sitting on the lift with her is actually his favorite part of this whole escapade leaving Vought Tower for the day.

“Still bitter about the snow day?” she asks playfully on one of their more silent trips on the lift when he seems lost in thought.

He’s staring off into the distance with a strange look on his face, then seems to look down and study his skis. “I did have snow days as a child,” he says. “They just weren’t very fun.”

She tenses a little bit. When Homelander reminisces about his childhood it’s often the death knell of any fun, normal interaction between them, and a turn toward a morose angry mood. But he looks calm.

“When there was a snow emergency, only a skeleton crew would come to work in the lab. Nobody interacted with me. Most of the scientists would stay home. The whole building was much quieter than usual. They never did experiments on me on those days, I guess, but it wasn’t a good tradeoff. I’d sit there listening to the snow landing on the roof of the building, without really knowing what it was. I’d only seen it in pictures and movies. I didn’t even imagine that it’s something wet.”

Maeve feels herself shudder and quickly pretends it’s because she’s cold, prompting Homelander to hug her in closer. He even wraps his cape around her, and she knows he hardly ever uses that for anything so utilitarian. She’s not going to let him know she shudders whenever she hears yet another tidbit about his lab days and realizes anew that the way he was raised means he can never be a balanced, pleasant person, and that it’s a miracle that he can mimic people enough to blend in. Vought have managed to raise an alien creature on earth.

Homelander leans his head in even closer and whispers “Can we have sex tonight? When we get back?” in a wheedling tone, and she nods automatically without even thinking, terrified of him and at the same time full of pity.

A smile spreads wide on his face and he releases her from the embrace as they near the top of the lift and prepare to ski off.

A/N: This blizzard was a real thing :)

#cozy corner domaystic #maevlander #queen maeve #homelander #the boys #the boys tv #mystuff #fic

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beelanddiavolosimp-blog · 3 months ago

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How my Mc is around the brothers

* silly post to give an insight on what my MC is like *

Lucifer

She loves to test him but also understands peace and quiet and a break from everything is needed. She also is an older sibling so she relates to him. But that doesn't stop her from being a pain in his ass. Wether its aggressive flirting or purposely stirring trouble with sarcasm and such she will always bring something to the table for him.

Mammon

She adores him. She doesn't like how mean the brothers can get and openly scolds them for it. She does however warn Mammon when his antics get bad. She has minimal patience so it'd be something along the lines of "Mammon honey one more credit card incident and you won't have hands to use it" and he usually gets the message. She is softer with him than the rest not exactly feeling pity just a desire to love him how he deserves.

Levi

Now it's a tough one with him. On one hand she knows he enjoys his space and alone time just as she does so she leaves him alone for a good while but if she does for too long he feels abandoned and forgotten. She often has to repeat she doesn't hate him and ends up just texting it to him before coming into his room. She will be more physical with him as a form of teasing she likes the reactions he gives her but she will never take it too far. She often feels the same as him in the fact she is lesser than everyone else and so they feed into each other and subconsciously help by giving compliments about them both.

Satan

A lot of quiet time between them. She finds him a safe space really. As he silently reads she will sit on her phone, do homework, eat really anything just silent. She often does this sneakily so none of the brothers bother them both. Satan adores their time together but won't admit it. They share a deep love for cats as well and she even teases him only a little because she likes making him flustered but not too much to make him mad.

Asmos

Sometimes she feels he is too much to handle for a bit and distances herself. Other times she happily speaks to him while doing makeup or their skincare. Really any beauty or body care they share tips or products they enjoy. It's kinda like a very close best friend with the same addiction as you. She will ask for shopping sprees, how her outfit looks, what underwear to wear and all that. She doesn't have any romantic feelings so she makes that prominent but also not overly mean about it.

Beel

Huge fat crush on him. She gets very shy sometimes when he gets very close or does something she feels attractive or heart racing (a lot). She follows him around quietly feeling safe just being near him and she feels no problem making a bunch of sweets for him to eat. She also flirts but more subtle then others since beel makes her feel very bubbly inside. He never catches on until the brothers yell it at him basically.

Belphie

Kinda like the two best friends who are way too comfortable fighting and flirting. Will one minute be cuddling him happily asleep the next smacking his ass and running away so he won't attack her. They are always playful together and make either very uncomfortable or risque comments or straight up bully someone. Casually throws around bad names in a loving manner like bitch, whore, slut, asshole. They always sleep together to anywhere belphie and her manage to deem comfortable.

#obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me x mc #obey me headcanon #obey me scenarios #obey me fandom #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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agalactichalo · 3 months ago

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Counting to Three: Holding it Together PT. 1 (TMNT 2012)

@tmnt-write-fight Attack For @dorky-pals

A big thank you @awildaspenappeared for helping me write this!

Author Note

Author has compulsions and used bits of their own experiences in this.

I will probably move this to A03 When I can make an account.

Summary

Leo had to count to three. One, two, three. His brothers all accounted for, it kept them safe. He was sure of that until suddenly Donatello wasn't present and he panicked.

What follows are tense arguments, strains between the brothers, a fight gone bad and Leo and Donnie have a spat. Need for space vs need for safety.

An IDW event almost becomes canon because Leo and Donnie get caught out after bitching for a couple hundred words.

Word count: 2,388

♡━━━━━♡

One.. Two.. Three..

Red.. Orange.. Purple..

Raph.. Mikey.. Donnie..

The headcount loop Leo often found himself stuck in over, and over, and over throughout the day, finding himself only leaving the dojo of the lair to make sure everyone was still alive and safe. There were a few rooms the teen would check consistently, Donnie’s lab, the living room, the kitchen and Mikey and Raph’s bedrooms.

It turned into a routine, a force of habit. He would tell himself it was necessary, not wanting it to be a big deal so it was simply something to assure they were safe. It never changed from hour to hour however, one, two, three, his brother still in their usual spots, getting nothing more than a glance at most usually when he would check their space. Unless Mikey was in his room rather than in the kitchen, the youngest would sometimes try to pull him into conversation. He was smart with it, always having Leo participate in something that kept him there for more than a minute. It was sneaky but.. nice. It was the most normal feeling-thing as of late.

Unfortunately, his brother wasn’t ready to enter the dojo again, not that Leo could blame him. The empty shrine where what little pictures Splinter originally preserved being empty now made this all the more real. His room was still untouched but just the knowledge that Splinter had never reopened that door in the dojo was a haunted thought.

This day was no different, Leo had done the headcount religiously, only leaving the dojo to do so. Looking around as he made his usual rounds. One. Two. Three? Surely he just made a mistake. There had to be three. He needed to check again, there just had to be three! Where did his brother go? One: Raph was lounging in the living room, comic on his lap and Chompy on his plastron trying to follow along.

Two: Mikey was in his room and was once again flipping through a scrapbook Leo knew was filled with photos of them and Splinter. Icecream Kitty’s bowl resting next to him, as Mikey showed the cat every image he had, giving a brief story for each. Three? Donnie’s lab was empty. And he hadn’t seen the other leave it since Splinter’s death unless it was for patrol or food. Forcibly at that!

Leo kept trying to tell himself he was overthinking, that things were fine, but the only other places he could think to look were the bathroom and kitchen. Maybe the other just got hungry. He kept telling himself, that was until he was faced with another empty room. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. He can not lose anyone else. Not again! He’s already lost his father. And his brother had already been dead once!

The living room wasn’t too far away. Leo headed over to Raph with vigor. “Have you seen Donnie?!” He asked frantically, looking around the room just in case he missed sight of his tallest sibling somehow.

“Leo, you are taking this whole, checking on us thing way too far.” Raph replied as he lazily turned a page. Chompy let out a churr, which would have the teen stop reading and pet the little guy. “He probably just needed some fresh air, you know like most people? If you could call a mutant turtle a person.” He snarked, sarcasm and wit dripped from his words pooled on his tongue, ready to poison the next. He hadn’t seen the other leave but he had other things to do than babysit his immediate younger twin brother.

“Raph this isn’t funny! What if something happened? He would have told us if he left wouldn’t he?” Leo sputtered out quickly, his hands gesturing and moving aimlessly as he spoke. It felt wrong without the count being completed, his anxiety rising rather quickly. He had to finish the count but he couldn’t do that without Donnie… What was he saying? He was worried for Donatello’s whereabouts, not just that a sequence was finished.

It didn’t take long for Leo to leave Raph to his own devices, going to see if their youngest brother had seen Donnie. Mikey sitting up from his bed as his door was opened, “Hey Leo, weren’t you just in here?”

“I was Mikey,” Leo would pat his little brother's head lightly, trying to hide his anxiety. “Have you seen Donnie anywhere?” “No, but maybe he made himself smaller with some of his chemicals and sciency stuff! Oh! Oh! Or maybe he managed to make an invisibility ring, like the one I have in Mazes and Mutants!” Mikey would exclaim, grinning ‘ear to ear’ or well more accurately tympanum to tympanum.

Leonardo didn’t know if that was possible, but then again, they were just in space for six months fighting in situations that were arguably even less possible. What if Mikey was right! No that was ridiculous- but he has been right about oddities before! This was enough to kick his anxiety into high gear, making him check every room in the house again, “Donnie! Where are you?!” Leo would call out as he looked, soon getting to the one room that didn’t pass his mind to even check, the door opening before he could even reach for the handle.

“Why is it so loud out here?” Donnie would ask more groggily, his blanket loosely draped over himself. He had overwhelmed himself with all the work he was giving himself to do, finally allowing himself to get some rest. Unfortunately for him that was short lived by his brother's anxiety.

“Donnie! Are you okay? You look like shell, where were you? You weren’t in your lab or the living room!” Leo would start mother hen Donnie, his hands on his younger brother's shoulders as he spoke.

“Did you forget I have a bedroom?” Donnie asked, his eyebrow ridge raised, moving to cross his arms as he looked down at his older brother.

“You normally aren’t there- I-” Leo would start to explain to Donnie, realising how ridiculous it probably sounded now that it was being said out loud.

“You could have checked there- listen Leo, your constant checking is getting worse, it feels like every few hours-,, no, every hour at this point you are checking on all of us.” Donnie would start to explain however soon hear his twin speak, cutting him off an annoyed sigh escaping Donnie.

Raph chiming in with an, “An hour is generous Donnie.” A more annoyed tone of voice, standing at the end of the hallway leaning against the doorframe.

Donnie rolled his eyes waiting for Raph to be done before giving a “anyway what I am trying to say is it feels like it is turning into-.. or has turned into a compulsion. Well they are hard to deal with they can be helped if-"

"I don't need help! They, they aren't.. compulsions or whatever. I'm simply checking that none of my brother's are in danger. I-I” Leonardo would stop himself from being too vulnerable with his brothers, seeming too weak. “I promised Splinter to keep you all safe and so far my ‘checking’ has!"

“Leo, your ‘checking’ only feels like it is helping because it is a safe constant, when you experience compulsions, from in this case a large change. It is to avoid negative outcomes that may not even be real, they are in an unhealthy way to relieve stress and-” Donnie would grow more annoyed when he was cut off again. The mixture of being sleep deprived, overstimulated and cut off making him want to yell.

“Donnie, stop. None of that is true. Have you eaten? Last time I checked on you, you hadn’t.” Leo would try to deflect the situation off of himself, it wasn’t true after all! The other was pushing his buttons in the worst ways right now and he didn’t know how much more of his pushing he could take.

“We aren’t kids anymore Leo, we know how to handle ourselves.”

"You?! You know how to handle yourself? You can’t even take care of yourself without constant reminders to step away from your childish tinkering!” “As if you’re much better. You can’t cook anything but ramen yourself.”

“What? And you can do better?” “Actually, yes I-” “And what about how you are always the first to get hurt in every single damn fight we have?” “Oooooh, Leo swore!” Mikey chimed in, trying to ease the tension, standing at his door with Icecream Kitty’s bowl in both hands. “Leo! That is not fair-” “Fair? There is no fairness in combat. You have to be the very best or you’ll end up dead. Again!”

“Do you want to fight with a literal stick?”

“I’d do it better than you.”

“Then how about you do it!” Donnie unsheathed his bō staff from his holder and shoved it into Leo’s hands harshly before he made for the lair exit.

Leo would stare at the bō staff quietly, he knew how to react when Raph acted like this, but he didn't expect it from his other brothers! He soon snapped out of his thoughts as he watched Donnie walk away. He started to move to follow his brother.

Raph could sympathize with how his brother felt here, so he would move and hold Leo back. “Leo, let him blow off some steam,” seeing himself in Donnie as Donnie walks off.

“What? No! I can't just- Donnie come back!” Leo yelled after him, he didn't know what else to do, he can't handle himself, he's been too vulnerable lately. Everything was wound tightly on a coil he meticulously upheld. Yet he could only watch as it unraveled before him, in a mess of emotions.

Leo however would ignore Raph's attempt at stopping him from going after their brother, leading to him nearly getting tackled by Raph. He pushed his brother away, Mikey carefully grabbing onto Raph's arm. Mikey could not have another brother leave right now. “Do.. Do you want to bake something with me?”

Donnie found himself traveling to the place he usually goes to find materials for his creations, the scrap yard. Tired eyes surveyed around at the broken parts littered around in their janky, uneven piles.

He didn’t have his usual mental list of things he was hoping to find, he mostly just wanted to get away. Tinkering with technology, figuring out chemical solutions and drawing plans was his form of escapism. Though it was hard to escape when your head was too cloudy to think.

“Donnie what are you doing?” Leo would ask the bō staff held outstretched, as if offering a truce as he held the staff for Donnie to grab. “You don't need anything from here right now and it'll be dawn soon. Stop being stupid and come back to the lair.”

Donnie looked over, his gaze switched from his bō staff to his brother's gaze “I’m not being stupid, Leo. I am taking some much needed space after your constant helicoptering!”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his beak and sighed heavily. “Leo, I'm not trying to start an argument or debate right now. I'm just trying to have some space.”

“You think that leaving without your weapon, with no one knowing where you were going was the best thing to do? Seriously! I need to know where you all are, you-you-I-you could get hurt or get in trouble and we wouldn't even know.” Leo started pacing, the anxiety pulsing through his body needing some sort of outlet.

“No. You'd be far safer in the lair where I can make sure you're all safe for the moment.” Leo started tapping against the bō staff with nerves strung high. “We should go. Now.”

"Shell! Leo! I can't be there for you every second of every day!" Donnie shouted exasperated. He'd exhausted every logical option there was. Donnie twiddled his thumbs in circular, repetitive motions. Using this motion to help himself calm down and breathe, “It feels like you guys never listen to me unless it’s what you want to hear, Leo I was trying to help.”

“I’m supposed to be the one helping you guys Donnie- Master Splinter said that I was to replace him as Sensei as a-” Leo cut himself off. He swallowed thickly but continued calmly, acting as if he hadn't just choked on his words. “If anything happened to him, my duty is to solve all your problems.” Donnie listened to Leo talk, his gaze growing from annoyed to sympathetic and more sad. “Awkward sibling hug?” He offered. Stood there holding out hands, his stance more awkward than purely tense.

“Awkward sibling hug.”

The teen walked over to his older brother, wrapped him in an awkward sibling hug, two gentle pats onto his brother's carapace. “Pat. Pat.” He added trying to lighten the mood a little as he choked out, “You are our brother Leo, you may be our leader but you are our brother first, we can help our problems together.”

Donnie gave a mischievous grin, “Or we could tell Mikey you are bottling up your feelings again?” Knowing his brother would pester at Leo until he cracked. No one could resist Mikey's puppy-dog eyes.

“Okay! Okay! You win, just don’t tell Mikey” Leo would laugh, shaking his head moving to tap his brother's carapace with his hand. “Let’s just go home now before someone sees us.” “Yeah, let’s head home now.” Donnie then diverted his eyes to his staff that Leo offered once again. “Thanks.” He twirled the staff briefly before sheathed it on his back.

They snuck under the familiar fence with the large hole in it and began to make their way home when all of a sudden Bebop and Rocksteady crash down from their rooftop perch heavily. Well Rocksteady did. Bebop more or less landed on top of the rhinoceros.

This caused Leo to immediately settle into the previous preconceived notions he had at the realisation that all of his anxieties were real. If he was stopped by Raph, Donnie would be in so much danger right now. This was proof his system kept them safe because when the system didn't work, they got into dangerous situations and fights.

At least now he could protect his little brother.

#Leonardo 2012 #Donatello 2012 #TMNT 2012 #Midnight Duo #Leonardo-centric #Raph and Mikey duo if you squint really hard #Sunset duo bake #The girls are bitching #Petty fights #how not to cope 101 #Leo learns NOTHING #Angst with comfort #Leo has compulsions #author is projecting #Galactic has a hard time writing Leo as he's hard to write #BLESS the local Leo kinnie for helping #Gravity falls ref

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