#john holding him with both arms and giving him gentle pat in the back...

[rpreaperperson]

MOM

Reader is a combat medic, a BIG sweeth tooth and a mother to 141 boys (dont forget can cook too) a waifu material

In case of the  John ‘Soap’ Mctavish

Your name is called by a whiny and hoarse sound, the clinic door opens presenting Soap who holding his arm stares at you like an abandoned puppy

“Soap? What’s wrong?” cocking your eyebrow, you put the clipboard on the coffee table near you

“Im bleedin’ ” he let out a pathetic groan

“What? How?, c’mere sit” You usher him to sit on a chair, and then you get the medic box

“Where did you bleed?” getting the bandage and any other medic you need, considering the gesture he makes right now shows him that he is in deep pain

But...the question is..there’s no mission right now, the base is deeply secure but then again you don't know where the enemies came from

“this” he lifts his finger to you

...

Stare at him in bewilderment, then at his finger then at his face

“.......your finger...” not a very serious wound just a little scratch, a red bloody line that seemed like he cut himself with a knife

“wanna make something to eat, like the one you made for us” he pout

“Johnny...” you sigh

“It hurt so much...” he dramatically holding his hand in pain

“you a soldier Hun, you’ll get stabbed, shot and torture”

“It’s different” he stated

“ITS THE SAME -- oh you know what..fine” your gentle voice boomed but then you holding it back

‘ughh...I guess Mom is right...every man is a child, no matter their age is’ Taking his finger you clean it with cotton then plaster it with bandage

“Can I ‘ave some sweets?” you sigh knowing this question would coming from his mouth, then get a bowl of sweets from the cabinet, which is a lot of candy, lollipops, and gummies

Chocolates? well lets just say you have a special little fridge inside your room, if somebody want it they must have your permission, if not? well lets just say your cheeks puffed like a hamster pouting and giving them a harsh treatment

Why do you have a stock of sweets anyway? Simple because you have a BIG ASS sweet tooth and one fatefull day both Soap and Gaz found your sweet stock inside your medic cabinet ( you sigh in relief when they not found the chocolate one)

They plead to you to have some, and then you nonchalantly answered

‘Dont take it to much boys..’ they cheered and took it, from that day they always come to Medbay for sweets even though Ghost and Price didn’t ask, you still gave them some of it so they wouldn't feel left out and they always nodded with appreciation

“Dont take too much Johnny” 

“Mphmmhh” Johnny replied you with a lolipop in his mouth,  gives you a thumbs up as you gently patting his shoulder, but he stop you and palcing your head on his head instead, you sigh and gently rubbing his head

Just another day as a Medic in 141 

[indianamoonshine]

baptism | father paul x reader | one shot

summary: this is a really, really quick one-shot i wrote last night while feeling witchy. john talks you through it.

warnings: lots of smut. use of biblical passages during sex. typical priest stuff.

a gentle purr.

“jesus,” he murmurs. “creator of such lovely things…”

you arch against his chest as he holds you beneath the steady stream of the shower. the only light illuminating the bathroom were the sparse candles behind the curtain, highlighting the contours of your bodies.

soaked. baptism in motion.

pure blasphemy.

he takes your chin between two fingers, his lips just inches from yours as he breathes, “you’re a delicate sin, darling girl.”

you whimper, trying to kiss him - to feel his lips upon yours like a salve - but he teases you, moving just a hairsbreadth away before sliding his hand down your belly.

it burns. it burns like hellfire. you’re soaked, both by shower and by seduction. he’s smug, grinning the entire time his fingers dance around where you need him the most.

“please, john…” you whisper. “please. touch me.”

take away the pain.

your hands slide up to his hair, the angle slightly awkward but rewarding; his locks are long and vulnerable to your grip. you tug just slightly when his thumb ghosts over your clit.

finally you moan out, “father.”

and he gives in.

your sensitivity - between the hot shower and the anticipation - is heightened. your clit quivers as he rubs softly, watching from over your shoulder as you shudder in his arms.

he’s always fascinated by your body - by how it works and responds to him. “it’s like watching a work of art come alive,” he once said.

“your thighs shelter a paradise of pomegranates…” he quotes breathily.

you almost crumble in his arms when he gently prods a finger inside; the fit is snug - warm. it takes you a moment to adjust but you do with a groan that sounds both neolithic and angelic at once.

“that’s it, darling girl.” he crooks the finger, hitting a spongey part of you. you keen, bending a little in his grasp. “oh, yes. right there.”

one finger is followed by another until he’s three fingers deep. and despite how many times the two of you have had sex - have intertwined your bodies before god - you’re never prepared for his cock.

he kisses the side of your neck, slowly pulling out his fingers from you. “part your legs more, sweetheart…” you do, still gripping the back of his neck for support. “that’s perfect. you’re perfect.”

you snuggle into his shoulder, murmuring sweet nothings and blessings while he prepares you.

“you’re gonna grab onto the bar,” he gently untangles your arm from him and positions your hand onto the bar that was convenient for him when he was elderly - when his body was retired from such experiences.

he’ll use it for different purposes now.

john kisses your spine, hand caressing your thigh before he has you place your leg on the lip of the tub. having sex in the shower is no small feat; you were prepared for the positioning like a marionette doll. but now you were so desperate - so ready for him - that you were more than willing to do with as he pleased.

“john…” you whine.

he tsks softly, hands wrapping around your waist. “patience is a virtue; a fruit of the spirit.”

you can’t help but smile in your lust driven haze, especially when you feel the firmness of his cock nudging at your entrance.

“ame-“

you squeak, cut off by the harsh — but delicious — feel of his cock pushing in so slowly. every inch. every ridge. your limbs become like jello the further he goes. it’s heavenly. it’s sacred. it’s…

so goddamned hot.

you lean over in his arms, his hands gripping your hips so firmly you’re sure they’ll be blossomed with purple in the morning; a frank reminder of your blatant blasphemy against the church. john groans low at your ear and it sounds uneven.

“i have entered my garden, my treasure…” he pauses, pushing one more inch in and prodding at your womb. you gasp, white knuckling the bar. “…-my bride.”

a whine, pathetic and impatient, escapes your lips. your free hand grabs at his on your hip, searching for any inch of him to touch - to feel.

he intertwines his fingers with yours and begins to move.

it’s slow, at first, but then his movements are more forcible - precise - rather than gentle.

john’s length is more impressive than his girth but he makes up for it with each and every thrust. soon, your grip on the bar isn’t enough and your hitched leg is becoming like a limp noodle.

“john, oh my god.”

he’s crazed, like an animal in heat. he presses his face to your neck, sucking an impressive bruise beneath the skin. you cry out, all too aware of the hidden canines, but he doesn’t cut flesh. he wouldn’t.

unless you asked.

“that’s a good girl,” he grunts, one hand laying on your lower abdomen and the other fondling your tit. “best little pussy god ever created…”

your eyes roll back. “i am my beloved and my beloved is mine,” you gasp, each movement of his hips knocking each syllable from you.

john growls, which he usually does when he’s close. the crude sound of wet skin slapping against one another betwixt the exchanging of biblical passages can only be described as hedonistic, but he doesn’t care. he can’t bring himself to when your cunt is so tight and wet around him - when you’re so pliable and feminine.

when he comes, you do too. it’s a divine blessing, the two of you completely strung out on one another’s essence. he finishes inside of you, pushing his spend back in with each lazy thrust nearing the end. the noise you make when you come is his guilty pleasure - his pride. it’s a stark contrast against the state of the world, a breathy whine that rings hot with euphoria.

john gives you a moment before helping you step down from the ledge of the bath; apparently your limbs seemed to have stopped working. the two of you catch your breath, pressing against one another under the shower that slowly turns tepid.

you press a delicate kiss to his naked chest and then to his shoulder blade. “thank you.”

john finds you staring at him, the reflection of the candles’ light dancing in your pupils. he kisses the tip of your nose.

“for what, my love?” he asks in a soft voice. he’s always so gentle afterwards.

you smile, hand cupping his cheek. “for something so beautiful.”

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

DOOM writing prompt 04 Band

Writing prompts from my doom discord server, tied into the Garnets Story.

.

4: "Dad's weird garage band."

The armored being stepped to the back door of the house, hesitated just a moment before trying the door. Gently popping out the lock  and nudged the door, watching it open before stooping to walk in. He paused taking in the kitchen.

The decorations and the dishes set up at the table. How despite the layer of dust the whole kitchen and dining room he could see were cleaned and near before. Some sort of gathering had been about to happen, but there were no signs of hell growth, no scent of corruption… just stillness.

Or almost complete stillness as the Slayer twitched the door closed, walking around. Taking in the home that still stood, reaching for a dark phone on the counter, turning it around in his hands to admire the bright case and tiny notes to… a dad? Uncle? Both?

The phone was whole, so the Slayer slid it into his subspace. Humming as he felt something brush against his senses, walking after it slowly as he recognized the feel of a phantom lingering. Finding a few small glass trinkets he thought his flowers might like. Before really going through things, he followed that feeling. Coming into a garage and paused.

A satisfied sound came out of the Slayer as he found something of his interests that was remarkably preserved. 

Guitars.

Not ones geared to metal but that was okay. They were in proper cases to his right, safe from weather and drastic temperature changes. Different looking but similar alike that it seemed to be a collection of the original owner. Across from him was a beautiful liquor cabinet and bar that tugged on some deeply buried memory.

"Lily wants to know if she can see your feed." Vega spoke softly in the Slayer's ear, even as he sensed where the phantom was finally.

The Demigod nodded, stepping over to twitch the blanket over the dry remains. Giving it a soft pat as he looked at the couch with a photo album and a free guitar. His fingers running over the hand written music on the front cover, flipping through some pictures.

"I'm sorry John for interrupting. I just wanted to….oooh pretty." Lily's voice trailed off as she saw the same photo album, handmade and custom for this family. 

John nodded his agreement, pointedly not looking at the hazy after imagining of the phantom. He closed the book, looking at the written music and reached for the guitar left. Gently, he had to be so gentle as he tuned it, feeling the soft not really weight settle in his arms.

"What's the music?" Lily asked, detracted from what she had been about to ask.

The Slayer hummed a long familiar few notes to himself, and his flower. He had to use so much self control as he was in armor. Able to use the edge of the armor on his fingers to pick out the notes. Matching what he hummed a moment before with the notes. He was a little slow the first time playing, marveling that he could remember reading music, but then again it might be old, old muscle memory of a beloved hobby.

John smiled in his helmet, and played the whole song of 'home on the range' instead of just that small section in the album. When he was done, the demigod shifted the guitar, holding a hand out to the human phantom sitting on the couch listening. Not many refined details, their outline seemed fuzzy like an out of focus picture. Gently wiggling his finger until the once man put both hands into John's palm.

Gently, fondly, John pulled them up and then against his side. Like an one arm hug until the phantom lost even more form. Not unlike how he would absorb the energy of phantom Sentinels, the Demigod did the same here. Hosting the sacred spirit until they were ready to pass on after a few days.

"That was the buffalo song right?" Lily wondered, speaking only after John set the guitar safely in an open case.

The not quite man nodded. Want these.

"I'll let the Sentinels know." Vega answered.

[espresseo-cafe]

life is still beautiful | johnny | ch.3

genre: cappucino, romance, angst, university!au, dad!au, drama, slice of life

pairing: collegestudent!johnny x fem!reader

bean count: 4.3k

a/n: hope you all are liking the series so far! 🤎 note: this is only a work of fiction, it doesn’t reflect the artists’ personalities in any way.

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that gentle gesture and soft movements under the sun.. it was loving, protective, and kind.

johnny was quite disappointed because he wanted to approach whoever she was at that party. however, he was called by one of his friends to help him with something. but she was already gone by the time he got back to the balcony. and youngmin was sleeping soundly on the comfortable hammock swing, surrounded by pillows.

he was quite caught up with it that he couldn’t take his mind off on what he saw that day. his thoughts was so preoccupied to the point he didn’t notice that youngmin was starting to heave impatiently, not having his spoonful of rice.

“johnny.” his mom snapped her fingers in front of him, tutting her lips as she took the baby’s spoon from him, feeding the almost crying toddler. “you seem kinda off this very morning.”

johnny blinked his eyes, finally off of his trance that he gave his mom a hum as a response. “sorry, been thinking a lot lately.”

“don’t tell me you’re thinking about minji.” she smirked at him, taking another spoonful to youngmin.

“i-uh, no mom.. not minji. this other girl.” he sat back, fiddling a fork on his scrambled eggs.

“moving on so quickly, huh.” johnny felt a pat on the back from his old man. “it definitely runs in the family.”

his mom giggled at the comment, seeing johnny’s cheek turning pink and she hoped it wasn’t from his good night sleep. “is she pretty?”

johnny stretched, “dunno, couldn’t get a good glimpse at her.” brushing his hair back, “uh, what time is it?”

his dad checked his watch, “five minutes to eight.”

johnny’s eyes largened and quickly ate his breakfast and stood up. he almost forgot that today was the camp for dean’s listers. “i gotta leave, i’m supposed to meeting the guys at the campus in fifteen minutes.” he drank the remains of his juice before kissing the top of youngmin’s head. “see you in five days, my little bud. love you.”

youngmin squealed in baby language as if he was answering him. “bye dada.”

“take care john!” his mom called out, “don’t forget your sunscreen!”

mr. suh chewed on his breakfast, “he finally has some time to be a normal university student, but don’t you think he matured quite a lot?”

mrs. suh continued to feed youngmin, “in a way he very much did. i told him to have a break from time to time, but he just didn’t want to.”

“ever know the reason why?”

“oh dear, i wished we knew.”

the sun was at the start of its brightest shine, slipping in between your curtains and giving you some vitamin d for the day. you inhaled the breezy air as you opened the window.

“it’s a lovely day for camping.” yeri stood beside you, handing you a cup of coffee for a booster. “excited to mingle?”

you cackled and twisted your head side to side, hearing your bones crack was so refreshing. “excited? yeah, i guess i am.” you unlocked your phone seeing a text message from the guy you were suddenly paired up with. “oh a notification from love click.”

“who is it?” yeri jumped curiously, holding your arms and scooted closer to you.

“oya oya. what’s all the fuss in the morning?” yoohyeon came out of the bathroom with a face mask, seeing a notification on your phone. “ah omg! what’s his nickname?”

your heart beated quickly, scrolling to see his profile. “let’s see, dudekuma.. kuma? what does that mean?” both yeri and yoohyeon shrugged, waiting for you to see more of his details. “he’s from our university.. third year.. business major. eh whatever, i’ll go prepare for the camp.”

“ah, y/n, let me help out.” yoohyeon followed you to your bedroom. “there must be more deets about him.”

“it’s been two months since i last got paired, haha this app sucks.”

yeri pressed her lips and sighed, her chance of setting you and johnny up came to a zero before it even started. she wondered if you remembered what happened during her first year at the university.

during her first day, you and johnny both helped her look for her lecture room when others straight up ignored her. and immediately, she took a liking of your pairing because you both were very responsive and aware.

an idea struck her and she shot johnny a text message.

[ yeri ] : “johnny! are you busy?”

[ johnny ] : “kinda, i’m rushing to meet the guys at campus, dean’s camp.”

yeri jumped a little, you and her were going to dean’s camp as well.

[ yeri ] : “oh, then nevermind! see you later!”

[ johnny ] : “cool, see you!”

johnny’s breath was almost out when his friends waved at him as he caught up, giving him little punches and teases because he was late. it was scorching hot to anyone’s liking, but his tank top was showing off his arms and most of the girls in the line couldn’t take their eyes off of him.

“the young dad joins the camp, huh? bingo!”

“think we’d be grouped together for games?”

“ugh i think i might have a chance at him, heard he broke it off with his son’s mom.”

“no way, seriously?”

kun rolled his eyes and diverted johnny’s attention elsewhere, noticing his discomfort and annoyance at the inappropriate comments. “have they got no chill? that’s way over the line.”

“hyung they’re just in heat, literally.” jungwoo shook his head and johnny actually laughed softly at his roommate’s joke. they walked to the coach bus to place their bags and equipments when a high pitched squeal deafened their ears.

“hi guys!!” yeri jumped with a lot of things on her hands and taeyong immediately ran to help her. “you guys made it to the dean’s list! finally.”

taeyong messed up her hair playfully, “what do you mean ‘finally’? we’ve been here since year one. well except jungwoo.”

“hey! well it’s true”.

yeri laughed in joy, placing her things in the compartment, “i’m kidding you dumb dumb! anyway, there’s this person i want you guys to meet, she’s recently added to the list.” she turned to look at you, but you were standing by the vending machine buying some drinks. “ah bummer, i guess we gotta wait until we get in.”

“who is she, yeri?” kun squinted his eyes at you before johnny took the rest of the bags inside the bus.

“y/n, from the early childhood education department. she’s in year three like johnny oppa, taeyong oppa, and you.” she smiled at your walking figure towards them. “such a lovely spirit she is. i was planning to set her up with you-”

kun twitched a little, “huh, me? you know i’m taken-“

“ah not you. where’s johnny?” yeri hummed, “i really think she and john will look good together. i already visually ship them.”

taeyong and kun exchanged looks, “you know johnny is freshly heartbrokened, can’t let them set sail when they’re not on the same boat.”

“gotta make them meet at the port somehow.” yeri pondered and she lit up, “jungwoo, sit next to me for the bus ride, please?”

jungwoo blushed, “ha? i’m not sitting next to you-”

“i heard you’re good in mario kart.” yeri smirked, “but i’m better.”

“why you little-”

the professors called the students to aboard the bus and take off to the campsite. johnny closed the upper compartment, his eyes catching someone having a hard time carrying her extra bags back up.

“need some help with that?” you turned to your left, seeing a guy kind enough to help than others who walked passed by you to get into their seats.

“that’ll be great, thanks.” you smiled, handing him your bag as he placed it on top so easily.

“i’m johnny, i don’t think we’ve met before.” offering his hand for a handshake.

you nodded, reaching your hand out as well, “y/n. nice to meet you.”

johnny looked at you for a while and coughed awkwardly. he didn’t want you to be weirded out because of his prolonged staring. well who wouldn’t be taken back when you were really, really pretty? there was something about you that emitted beauty that he couldn’t seem to explain.

he looked around and discovered most of the seats were taken. his eyes searched for his group of friends, only to see them seated by the back. he also noticed you looking for certain people too while one of the professors gestured for you guys to sit down.

the bus started to move when another guy bumped into you as he was playing around with his friends, making you lose your balance. your cheek touched johnny’s body as he held your arm, supporting you from not falling. your face heated up in embarrassment and fixed your posture.

“hey watch it.” johnny told them off, earning hisses from the guys. he faced you while he pressed his lips and pointed to the vacant seats with his head. “guess we’ll be seatmates for the whole ride, ladies first.”

“thanks.” you smiled, sitting next to the window.

johnny placed his hands in his pockets, why was he feeling jittery when he just met you? he didn’t want to be influenced because of your looks, ‘cause that already had happened with minji.

for the first time, he wanted to know you more. unlike in the past, it was always the ladies who made the first move and his friends would point that out and tease him about it. it wasn’t his fault if girls seemed to take interest in him. he was just winging every single move and went with the flow.

right now, he wanted to make the first move, a conversation would be the best to begin with. he shifted his head to you to do just that, though he found himself in a blur because you were already drifted away into a slumber.

your phone zapped and johnny didn’t mean to look- the bus was running through the tunnel- but the device lit up and showed a notification from an app that somehow made his mood to slightly change: love click.

she uses love click as well, huh?

he mentally sighed, that one chance of getting to know a new face wasn’t going to happen at all. he shook his head and talked to himself: what am i thinking.. it’s not like i’m looking for new love. then his eyes found its way back to you if he could help it, somehow he felt peaceful just staring at you.

he decided that this time, he’d start out as friends and see what the outcome would be, unlike before.

the camp location differed than the years that came before; it was larger in scale and had more activities. whilst everyone dispersed to their respective boys’ and girls’ cabins, johnny’s eyes was stuck as glue to your figure, busy talking to yeri.

“saw you two having a little chat back at the bus.” taeyong nudged the guy, seeing johnny flinch a little after realising that he had been staring at you for too long. “what do you think of her?”

“hmm, other than really pretty, she seems tired. well, her eyes speaks a lot. she slept most of the ride-” stopping mid-sentence when taeyong just smiled at him. “what?”

“nothing.” taeyong placed his locked fingers at the back of his head, holding in a chuckle because he noticed johnny all aloof, avoiding the topic he tried so hard not to fall into. “no harm in befriending someone. at least now you get to be friends first, not just jumping straight right into it.” referring to the boy’s previous relationship with minji.

johnny grunted as he lifted two of his bags; one duffel bag rested on his shoulder, and the other luggage in his free hand. he shook his head at taeyong, a prominent side smirk showing, “i guess i could give it a try, would that shut you up?”

“maybe.. i just have a good feeling towards y/n.”

the birds chirped just outside the cabin’s window, yeri stretched her legs as soon as her body met with the sheets of the bed, “ah, this bed makes me miss my actual one.”

you stifled a laugh, “did someone make you cranky on the way here?” knowing her too well, she was the type to show her feelings out in the open.

“jungwoo.” she placed her knuckles towards her eyes, rubbing them, “he defeated me in mario kart.. jerk.”

“ah come on, it can’t be that difficult.” you said, turning the device on, “let me know the rules, maybe i can be good at it.”

yeri feigned a gasp, “you haven’t played a game console befo- ah, nevermind.”

“it’s fine, yeri. now you know there are some people who has been living under a rock. let’s go for food before the orientation?” you dusted your leggings as you made your way out.

the unexpected dark humour caught her off guard, slapping her own mouth for not being careful enough. “aish, yeri you blabbermouth.”

you, yeri, and the rest of the dean’s listers walked towards the ampitheatre, and if you could count, there were about a hundred students- or more, in the dean’s list this year. among these hundred people, johnny could immediately spot you in your light purple top, outstanding the rest of people who wore other types of purple and he couldn’t help but be flustered at the sight of you even though you were just like a meter apart.

his ears perked up when several guys behind him were checking you out. “who’s the new girl? she’s hot.”

johnny unknowingly stood next to you after seeing your slight discomfort. you bowed in a quick thanks for his immediate response, but wondered why he reacted so quickly in a crowded space.

“i ship them.” taeyong mouthed, crossing his arms while kun and jungwoo nodded.

“me too.” yeri mouthed back then sighed, “but this pretty friend of mine is inexperienced.”

kun hummed, “well they could take it slow if they’re both open to it.”

johnny stared at your side profile, you radiated a glow he can’t seem to figure. a gentle aura yet mysterious, in which he wanted to know you more.

he wished for the same, for you to want to know him. but how on earth could he bring up youngmin? would that push you away?

he was about to ask you something but then you took your phone out to take a photo. you expected to snap a memory of the bluest skies with clouds that gave you peace, only to be startled that the front camera greeted you instead. johnny chuckled at your startled face and you didn’t even miss his upper cheek dimples appearing prominently, clearly making a little fun at your flinching towards yourself.

“you didn’t see that, okay?” you said as you switched the camera back to the front view, ears heating up and yet snickering at yourself out of embarrassment.

“too bad, i already saw it.” he licked his lips, still finding himself staring at you. “but i’ll keep it to myself.”

you finally looked at him and now he was the one who flinched, “i’ll take your word for it.”

yeri, taeyong, jungwoo, and kun all high-fived each other after witnessing the short exchange you and johnny had. “my ship is sailing!! think they’ll buy each other tickets?”

kun just ruffled yeri’s hair, “let them walk around the port first.”

teachers and counsellors sounded the alarm for the start of the camp. this camp was more on team building and social connection. though this year, all students were divided into five teams and will compete through courses of fun and physical games.

“alright, here we have ballots. each of you will pick a colour from the box from five teachers including myself.” mr. kim from biology called out. “five teams will have a leader, an alumni from last year. teams are based on the colours of our school logo: crimson commanders, aquamarine archers, magenta muskeeters, prussian pirates, and saffron soldiers.”

johnny hoped to be in the same team as you, but it was too soon to hope because it may backfire on him. as everyone lined up to the ballot boxes, he still kept stealing glances to wherever you were. he mentally slapped himself for being creepy and his friends were just earning a lot of funny get-go’s to tease the boy after all is done.

“yeri which team are you in?” you asked, quite excited to know the reveal. yeri just hushed you sneakily and gestured you to go where the guys were. “oh we’re revealing it together?”

“yup, it’ll be more fun.” she jumped and skipped over, holding the coloured paper in her hands. “guys! wanna do a simultaneous reveal?”

jungwoo shouted out loud in agreement, “ahh obviously, on three!”

the rest of you showed your papers, only to be disappointment because, yeri was sorted into magenta, taeyong in aquamarine, jungwoo in saffron, kun and johnny in prussian, and you in crimson.

“aw man i thought i’ll be teamed up with you, y/n.” yeri pouted. “anyway-“

“y/n, right?” you turned to the person who called your name, a pale skinned guy with doe eyes and long lashes. buffed up in his red shirt, his muscles screamed as if they wanted out. “i’m choi seungcheol from business department, year three. we share the same minors.”

you just blinked, he was quite attractive. he was in the same minors as you? no wonder he looked very familiar.

“i don’t mean to eavesdrop or be a party crasher but i just saw you with a crimson paper so i thought to drop by and say hi.” he smiled, his doe eyes still staring at you and to be honest, you couldn’t even look away.

you stared at the group you were with and back at this choi seungcheol, “um yeah, i do have the crimson paper so obviously we’re teammates.”

“cool, then let’s go group with the others.” he sparked up in joy before turning around, you pulled a face, wanting to chuckle as you looked back to yeri and the guys.

“i guess that’s my cue.” you clapped and laughed, “may the best team win?” putting on a salute gesture before leaving them to join seungcheol and the other twenty three people.

johnny and the others just nodded and mirrored your action. kun let out a two toned giggle, “she’s actually really cute, huh, right johnny?”

the tall guy just rolled his eyes and shook his head, “let’s go okay?”

the games in the past four days were mostly physical than critical thinking. and it seemed that you’ve gotten closer to the guys that yeri knew from her high school. so just to name a few, games included paintball, obstacle course, treasure hunt snorkelling, and at the moment, the final game: dodgeball. somehow you wished you sat out for this one because the activities were starting to get to you.

mostly because you were distracted at this game, and the distraction consisted of meaty calves, sleveless upper body with six pack abs, buff arms, refined biceps and triceps, sharp jawline, honey brown eyes, and luscious lips.

to put it simple, johnny suh.

you sighed to yourself that you even allowed yourself to be attentive to him in the past few days. well, because he stood out so much, at least to you. he was someone who unexpectedly got your attention to how sporty and a team player he was.

funny how you didn’t even know such a guy existed at the university. he was one of a kind.

even though you both did talk during the past few days he was still a bit far fetched, like a celebrity made to be intimidated with. and mostly because you were grouped with them together with yeri during breaks, a single conversation with just him was almost impossible.

so in front of you he stood, like a statue sculpted to perfection you were staring at him as if you were in the museum. you were probably so into him at this point that you disregarded calls of your name in the distance when reality finally hit you in the form of a ball.

you shook out of it and the whistle beeped. no one expected you to be out because if anything, you were one of few people to actually play really well in the previous games. so you just laughed it off to hide the fact you were distracted because of johnny.

you sat by the bleachers with taeyong who called for you to sit next to him. “y/n, over here!”

“hey.” you sat beside him, drinking a bottle of water while he handed you a clean towel. “that was my out, by the way. i’ve been put into the frontliners by seungcheol in almost all of the games.”

taeyong just chuckled, “you sure? ‘cause from where i’m sitting, you just looked distracted.”

you coughed from your bottle, crap did he figure you out? “i- i wasn’t.” your flustered face made him want to laugh but he didnt want to embarrass you.

“okay, i believe you.” he said as he gave you a soft punch on the arm. then he decided to try again to confirm if his hunch was right. “johnny’s still in it, you think he’d be out any time soon?”

you looked at the opposing team, “a big guy like johnny? not a chance. he could be the last one standing-” as soon as you finished you sentence, johnny got hit on the chest by seungcheol. “i stand corrected.”

a bunch of ‘aw’s’ and ‘oh’s’ heard when johnny exited the court and seated next to you. “prussian pirate got hit by a cannon.” you teased, giving him a bottle of water.

“my ship’s still standing though.” he gave you a smile, drinking from the bottle and gosh you wished you looked away earlier because his arms just flexed, and.. veins... “unlike the commander who got out first so early in the game.”

you shook you head and playfully rolled your eyes, “i was tired. good enough for a reason.”

taeyong stifled a laugh, not believing any of that, his hunch was right. “really y/n-”

“a-anyway i gotta go hit the showers ‘cause i’m sweaty and i need to start packing since we’re leaving tomorrow. bye guys.” taeyong chuckled hearing you say that in one go as you left, leaving johnny blinking in confusion and awe because in no way were you sweaty since you didn’t even play today.

“she’s really is something.” kun sat back down after being beaten, noticing johnny’s staring at your already far figure heading to the cabins. “it was intentional, right? you actually wanted to be hit by the ball, that’s why you were off the team even though you’re the ace.”

maybe, maybe not. johnny didn’t know how he felt, was it because he was desperate to have a romantic companion? it had only been three months when he broke up with mj and no word from her since. not that he expected anything but was it a reminder that maybe he could finally open his heart to someone new?

was he ready though? was he ready to open his heart to a new relationship? the thought of you made him so certain that you could be the one, the one who could mend his heart. but then again he was hesitant because really, he only knew you for five days.

even though those five days were already proof that he might’ve fallen for you, it was a reality check for him. how could he ask you to join his little bandwagon outside of this camp? it may not be the right path to start something new, because what would you actually think of him? what of youngmin?

although his team was celebrating for winning the most points and were awarded tickets to a carnival a week from now, he remained quiet until the end of the camp. he was still so lost in his thoughts that it made kun slightly worry because johnny was a type of person who keeps things to himself.

as everyone waited for departure just outside the coach buses, he spotted you talking with seungcheol. seemed like you both were hitting it off or just making a simple, friendly conversation.

“ah i forgot to ask for her number.” johnny mumbled to himself.

yeri stood by, for she knew how johnny was aware of your existence in the past few days and that he might’ve had his heart beating for you. although she wanted to set you guys up at the port so that her ship could sail.. “seems like there’s a detour before the journey.” she told herself.

taeyong, being the observer that he is, put his elbow on yeri, “you noticed it too?” he asked her, “i got no worries though.”

“what do you mean?”

“y/n was acting funny yesterday at the dodgeball games. if i’m correct about her then trust me that we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“you mean.. there’s a chance that she might like johnny?” yeri’s eyes lit up. “oh my gosh!”

“can’t jump to conclusions, that’s why i said we don’t need to worry.” taeyong ruffled her hair then jumped a little when she shrieked. “what?”

“agh no we have the right to worry!!” she facepalmed herself then bit her fingernail. “choi seungcheol.. wait..”

“uh yeri?”

she wasn’t sure if she should say but she had no one else to tell about her rising worry. “y/n has love click, alright? before we came here she and yoohyeon unnie were talking about how she got a notification and read out the details of the guy she was matched with.”

taeyong already joined the dots. this was going to be a challenge. “let me guess, he’s from our university, business major, year three?”

yeri pouted, “yes, i can’t believe i just remembered now but choi seungcheol ticked all of those boxes. ”

“well damn.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @titanmaknae29 @joepomonerof @lovesuhng @studyingthemind @cheyehc @kyeomooniee

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 38/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

When Mulder walks out of the restaurant with Cal and the kids trailing behind him, Frohike and Byers, who are standing beside the van, exchange a worried look.

“Calvin Rose, this is John Byers and Melvin Frohike,” he says, gesturing to each man in turn. “And this is Abby and Peter.”

The Gunmen regard Mulder with wide eyes.

“Calvin Rose?” Byers repeats, extending his hand for Cal to shake. “As in Dana and Calvin Rose?”

“Cal received a letter, purportedly from Scully,” Mulder explains. “It instructed him to get on the train at the Henryton tunnel at noon.”

Frohike checks his watch. Cal hands Abby the keys to their car.

“Ten, mijita. Go see if there are any more M&Ms in the car.”

The four men watch the children go, waiting until they are out of earshot to speak again.

“We need to hit the road in fifteen minutes if we’re going to make it by noon,” Frohike says urgently. “What’s the plan, Mulder?”

“Cal is coming with me to look for Scully,” he says. “You two need to stay back with the kids.” He hesitates, then adds, “Their chips haven’t been removed yet.” The Gunmen’s eyes widen, and Mulder can see the questions and concerns running through their heads. “You said it’s not real-time tracking, right?”

Byers swallows nervously.

“Based on the size of the device, they’d only be able to triangulate a rough location, maybe within about five miles, every thirty minutes or so.”

“So if you keep moving you should be safe?” They don’t respond right away, just look at him and then at each other reluctantly. “We don’t have time to second-guess, guys,” he says, irritated.

“In theory, yes,” Byers finally says.

Mulder turns to Cal.

“Do you know how to fire a gun?”

The corner of Cal’s mouth quirks a little, the closest thing to a smile Mulder has seen on the man.

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s gear up and go. The kids stay with the van, and we’ll take your car.” He turns to Byers, who looks entirely uncomfortable with the last minute change in plans. “I’ll call you when we make it back to town so we can arrange a place to meet.”

Byers touches Mulder’s upper arm, turning them slightly away from the other two.

“I hate to ask this,” he says quietly, “but…what if you don’t come back?”

Mulder gives him a significant look.

“I trust your judgment,” he finally says, and Byers briefly closes his eyes.

Each man is outfitted with two weapons, one to be worn at the hip and the other strapped around an ankle as backup. Cal moves the children’s bags from their car into the van and then beckons them both over, crouching down to bring himself to their eye level.

“Eschúame, niños,” he begins, taking one of each of their hands. “These are my friends, John and Melvin.” Abby glances at the Gunmen and leans in to whisper something in her father’s ear. “Yes, Melvin is kind of a funny name. I need to go with this man to pick Mommy up.” He gestures to Mulder, who smiles reassuringly. “It’s not safe for kids, so John and Melvin are going to take you on an adventure while Daddy and Mr. Mulder go get Mommy, okay?”

Peter lets out a long, petulant whine.

“I was gonna ride the train!” he complains.

“I know, Pete. I’m sorry. We’ll ride a train some other time, okay?”

“Promise?” Peter asks, scowling.

“Pinky promise,” Cal says, holding up his fist with the pinky out so Peter can link it with his own.

“When will you be back?” Abby asks, her bottom lip plumping up and her eyes wet.

“I’m not sure. Hopefully soon,” he says, and she nods.

Frohike slides the van door open and Frenchie pops her head out, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Abby sucks in a breath and moves closer to her father, grabbing on to his arm.

“Daddy,” she whimpers, and Cal follows her eye to the dog.

“Puchica,” Cal mutters. “I’m sorry, Abby, I have to get going or we’ll be late. The dog won’t hurt you, I promise.”

The child only tightens her grip.

“This is Frenchie,” Mulder says, patting the dog’s head. “She’s a very gentle dog, and she loves kids.”

“It’s 11:33,” Frohike points out.

“Daddy has to go,” Cal says again. “I need you both to be brave for me, okay? Can you be brave?”

A tear slides down Abby’s cheek, and she wipes it away.

“You can be brave and scared at the same time,” she says in a tiny voice, and a pained smile stretches across Cal’s face.

“That’s right, mijita. You can.”

“I’m not scared of dogs or alligators,” Peter says proudly, and Cal pulls him into a hug.

“Be good, okay? Listen to Melvin and John.”

“Okay, Daddy,” the children recite in unison.

Cal sits back on his haunches and gives them both a long look.

“I love you,” he says tightly, and Mulder feels a sudden kick of guilt. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He gives them each a last hug and kiss on the forehead, and then stands and walks purposefully toward his car.

“Let’s go,” he says over his shoulder, not looking back. “We’ve got a train to catch.”

-

It takes them twenty minutes to get to the tunnel. Cal is silent for the entirety of the drive, and Mulder can’t think of anything to say to fill the silence that wouldn’t feel painfully frivolous given the situation, so he stays silent as well. The small-town scenery gives way to an even more rural area, houses becoming further and further apart. They’re bumping down a pitted dirt road when Cal sits up and his mouth falls open.

“What?” Mulder asks, looking between him and the road. “What is it?”

Cal shakes his head as though disoriented.

“I’ve been here before,” he says. “I remember this road with the tracks up ahead. There’s going to be a little gravel lot on the left up here.”

Sure enough, a small gravel lot appears to their left just as the road runs up against a set of train tracks, and Mulder can see the train tunnel about fifty yards beyond it. He makes a U-turn and heads back down the road a short ways, pulling the car into a small clearing that will obscure it from the view of anyone on the train. The men exit the car and walk quickly back to the gravel lot, and Mulder looks at Cal expectantly. The sun sits high in a cloudless sky, and sweat is already beading on both men’s foreheads.

“What should we do now? What do you remember?” Mulder asks, shielding the sun with his hand. Cal is scanning the surrounding landscape, his jaw jutting out to the side unnaturally before his shoulder quirks. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cal says cooly. “I was brought here in a transport van. The train passed partway through the tunnel and stopped. I was walked into the tunnel and told to get into a boxcar.”

“So should we wait in the tunnel?” Mulder asks, and Cal shakes his head.

“We gotta get through it,” he says, then sets off jogging toward the tracks. Mulder follows after him, and they quickly approach the opening of the west end of the tunnel. “There will be men in the boxcar,” he says breathlessly, his arms pumping. “We’ll have to get on a different car and ride out there without anyone seeing us. Better odds of that at the back of the train.”

The interior of the tunnel is dank and covered in graffiti. As they near the halfway mark, Mulder hears the distant, muted hiss of a train whistle and his heart jumps into his throat. When they emerge from the east end of the tunnel, the headlight of an engine car is close enough that Mulder can make out the silhouette of the engineer as he reaches up to blow the whistle again, warning them off the tracks.

“Down here,” he directs Cal, and the two scramble down a small embankment, flattening themselves against the ground as the train begins to pass by above them.

Dry grass tickles his nose as the wind generated by the train sends it whipping against his face, and he feels the sheer mass of the locomotive rumbling in the ground beneath his chest. The brakes screech and he winces, resisting the urge to cover his ears. The clack and rumble of the train over the tracks becomes slower and slower for several minutes until finally they hear the sequential bang of the cars coming to a stop. They wait and listen, their faces turned toward each other. Mulder flicks his eyes up toward the train, suggesting that they go now, and Cal shakes his head.

There is the crunch of boots on gravel, and the men lock eyes, holding perfectly still.

“Anything?” a voice calls out from inside the tunnel.

“Nah, nothin’,” someone answers, so close that Mulder can hear them sniff and clear their throat. The crunch of the boots becomes further and further away, but they keep waiting.

“When the train starts moving, we go,” Mulder mouths, his voice less than a whisper, and Cal nods.

They hear a door slamming shut, then several minutes of silence. The train whistle blows and a few seconds later, loud clangs sound off along the track as each car lurches forward and the train begins to move. When they hear a clang just above them, Mulder gets up on his hands and knees and Cal does the same.

The freight train is carrying so many cars that the caboose is still miles down the track, hidden from view. Boxcars, flatbeds, and tanker trucks start to slowly move past them, and Mulder considers which would be the most practical to ride on.

“This one,” Cal says, pointing to a white hopper car.

They begin to jog beside it as it slowly picks up speed. Cal guides them to the rear of the car where the slope of the hopper leaves an empty space they can sit on and be protected from the wind. He grabs hold of a ladder and runs alongside the car until he can pull himself up and get a decent foothold, then slips through the beams supporting the structure of the car and holds his hand out to Mulder.

The train is picking up speed, and the gravel is loose under Mulder’s feet as he begins to run to keep up with the car. He reaches for Cal’s hand but only manages to brush the tips of his fingers before the train enters the tunnel. It’s dark now, and there are just a couple feet between the wall of the tunnel and the train car.

“Come on!” Cal shouts in the dark, bracing his shoulder against the support beam and extending his arm as far as possible.

Mulder pushes himself harder, kicking up gravel as he struggles to keep pace. Soon, the train will be moving too fast for him to safely get on. He has barely any clearance between his body and the tunnel wall on one side, the fast-moving train on the other. If he so much as stumbles, he could be easily thrown under the wheels of the train and crushed. He pulls in a huge breath and forces himself to run faster, his arm extended. The light at the other end of the tunnel is beginning to reach them when he sees Cal’s hand close around his wrist and his feet lose contact with the ground. He flies up, tethered to the car by Cal’s hand and brought airborne by the momentum of the train, but soon enough his feet smash down against the gravel surrounding the tracks and he cries out.

Cal slips his other arm between the rungs of the ladder, fumbling to get a better hold on Mulder as his feet strike the ground and send him flying up before he crashes down again like a rock skipping across water. Cal manages to get a fistfull of his shirt and tugs on it violently, and suddenly Mulder’s chest is pinned against the rungs of the ladder, his feet dangling just above the ground.

“You gotta get your foot up!” Cal shouts, his body crammed against the metal beams on the train car that are preventing them both from falling to their deaths.

Mulder bends one leg and scrambles to find footing, and finally he lands on something solid. Slowly, he pulls himself up until he is supporting his own weight and Cal is able to release him. Both men fall into the empty space at the back of the hopper, panting and exhausted.

“You good?” Cal asks, looking him over.

Mulder’s shirt is stretched out around the collar and his boots are scuffed to shit, but aside from some soreness he appears to be unscathed.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Thank you.”

Cal nods, and they are quiet for a time as they travel alongside the river, each catching their breath and taking in the picturesque countryside while the train gently jostles them.

“Do you remember what comes next?” Mulder shouts over the noise of the rails as he uses the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “How long were you on the train?”

Cal stares out into the distance, contemplating.

“Less than an hour,” Cal shouts back, leaning in. “I know we didn’t stop at all before we got there. There weren’t any windows in the boxcar so I couldn’t see what we passed or anything, but I remember that when we stopped it wasn’t at a train station. It was just kind of in the middle of nothing, like the tunnel.”

Mulder nods. Less than an hour until they arrive. He feels some sickening combination of excitement, fear, and nervousness, and he checks to be sure that both his weapon and backup weapon are still present and properly secured. He can’t wait to see Scully again, to feel the way he feels when he’s with her. Like someone really sees him. Really knows him.

“Do you remember what’s after the train? Where they took you?”

Cal shakes his head, looking disappointed with himself.

“Hopefully when I see it I’ll remember. It’s like I have to see or hear things to remember them. Something has to jog the memory,” he explains, and Mulder nods.

“That’s what Scully said too. Dana, I mean.”

“They didn’t get you?” Cal asks, touching the back of his neck.

“They did,” Mulder tells him. “But for whatever reason, very little has come back to me.”

“You remembered Dana, though,” he says, as though it’s a given.

Mulder doesn’t see any reason to get into specifics, at least for now.

“She’s hard to forget,” he says by way of an answer, and Cal flashes him a knowing smile that sends a stab of jealousy shooting through him.

When they hear the brakes screech a short time later, they exchange a look. The train begins to slow and they ready their weapons, just in case.

“I think it will be safest if we wait until the train starts up again before we jump off,” Mulder suggests, and Cal nods his agreement.

“If this is the spot, there will be a dirt road right off the tracks,” he says, and Mulder is grateful for his steadily unraveling memory.

The train eventually comes to a full stop, and they listen to indiscernible voices in the distance, doors opening and closing, and the mechanical roar of vehicle engines for several minutes. The engines fade away, as do the voices, and when the cascade of clangs signals that the train is starting to move, they put away their weapons and prepare to jump.

The earth beside the tracks is covered in bramble, but the dirt beneath it is soft enough to effectively break their fall. They carefully drop down, first Mulder and then Cal, and pick burrs off their jeans while the rest of the train chugs along beside them. There do not appear to be any other people around.

“This way,” Cal says, un-holstering his gun and taking the lead.

Mulder follows behind him, pistol in hand but with the safety on, as they approach a hard-packed dirt path that disappears around a bend into the woods.

“Is it far?” Mulder asks quietly.

Cal shakes his head.

“Not very. Let’s stay off the road though.”

They make their way into the edge of the woods, keeping the path in their line of sight as they follow it deeper into the lush green of summer in full bloom. Acorns crunch under their shoes and birds sing a carefree song overhead, and it all feels so tranquil and out of place for their mission.

The dirt path curves generously to the left, then dead ends in a small parking lot. The two men crouch down at the edge of the woods and watch as a woman in medical scrubs walks back and forth across the lot, intermittently holding her cell phone up to the sky before bringing it to her ear to shout, “I can’t hear you!”

The parking lot itself has only six spaces, three of which are occupied by a golf cart, a van, and a motorcycle. In front of the spaces there’s a stone retaining wall of some kind, and seemingly nothing else.

“Where is it?” Mulder asks quietly, and Cal shrugs.

“I headbutted the guy who was walking me in and tried to run, and I think they knocked me out or something. I don’t remember anything after this except waking up in a hospital bed.”

“Hello?!” the woman shouts, bending forward as though that will somehow cause cell service to materialize. She finally gives up and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her scrubs with a huff, stalking towards the retaining wall.

“Where is she going?” Mulder wonders under his breath.

When the woman reaches the wall, she walks around the edge of it and disappears into the forest. Cal looks over at Mulder and he looks back.

“You know what I just remembered?” Cal says. “That place didn’t have a single damn window. Not a one.”

“Let’s just hope these guys have more regard for fire code than they do for human life,” Mulder says, and Cal quirks his head at him. “There’s gotta be more than one way in. And out.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

[lovesick-yanderes]

Lovesick: Part Three

Part 1 / Part 2

Cal Character Bio

TWs: typical yandere behavior

-

“Hey, Cal.” You’re standing outside of his apartment’s entrance with your arms crossed, looking around at the other doors and buildings throughout the complex as you greet him. You aren’t focused on him; instead, it seems like you’re searching for a lost item. Cal smiles, masking his pleasure at John’s absence as excitement to see you.

“Hey, _______,” he calmly says, leaning against the doorframe to chat with you. “What’s up? Here to see Buttercup?” As if on cue, the cat slowly strides towards the door, rubbing herself on Cal’s legs and then on yours. She sits down next to you and stares up, leaning her head against your calf as she waits for you to pet her. You don’t.

“Not today. I’m actually here to… Well… John didn’t come home yesterday… I was wondering if you’d maybe seen him?” You ask, your voice faltering a few different times. You’re anxiously fidgeting with your hands and your gaze has shifted to the ground. He notices you shaking as you stand before him.

Cal feigns shock, his eyes widening. “What do you mean he didn’t come home?”

Whatever resolve you’d been holding in suddenly breaks. Tears cascade down your face and you start to sob, bringing your hands to your face to cover them. “I’m sorry,” you wail, sniffling and trying to stop. “It’s just- he’s gone. I haven’t seen him since we went to bed on Friday night, and now it’s Sunday, and-”

“Hey,” he says calmly, walking out of his doorway and wrapping an arm around you. He brings you in for a gentle, reassuring hug. You lean into his embrace, relaxing into his body as he rubs your arm to comfort you. Cal savors the moment, permanently etching how you feel in his arm into his brain before he pats your shoulder. “Let’s go inside. We can talk more once you’ve calmed down, okay?”

You sniffle and wipe your tears, pulling away from him and nodding. With a quiet “okay,” you head into his apartment with Buttercup close behind. Once you’re inside, you climb onto Cal’s couch, and Buttercup instantly crawls into your lap. While you pet her to get your mind off of John, Cal quietly makes you one of your regular drinks from the Cardinal Cafe. When he delivers it to you, you can’t help but let out a strained laugh when you recognize the beverage as one of your favorites. “Thanks, Cal.”

After you finish most of your drink and Buttercup helps calm you down, Cal joins you on the couch. “If you’re not ready, we can take some more time,” he tells you, reassuring you through your emotions. “But I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

You nod your head, take a deep sigh, and then finish off the last of your drink. “Yeah. I think I’m good now. Thanks, Cal, I really appreciate it…” You set your cup on a side table and return both of your hands to Buttercup, who lays contently in your lap, purring as you gently pet and massage her. 

You narrate your version of events to Cal, who sits quietly, giving you space to speak and clear your mind. “I don’t usually see him until around 4:00 on Saturdays, but I thought it was weird that he hadn’t even texted me… He always says good morning and makes sure I eat lunch. At 6:30, I assumed he was working late or went out with some coworkers… When I went to bed, I figured I’d wake up next to him sometime in the night, but I never actually fell asleep because I was just waiting for him to get home.” You pause and tears start to well up in your eyes. “I was in bed until I came over here. I don’t know where he is, and I’m freaking out, Cal.” You stop petting Buttercup to run your fingers through your hair, inhaling deeply to help calm yourself back down. 

Your sadness nearly breaks Cal’s heart. It’s necessary, he tells himself. They have to be like this now so I can show them how much I love them. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a firm side hug. “I’m here for you, ______,” he tells you, resting his head onto yours. You erupt into a waterfall of tears, leaning into him as you wail. “We’re friends. I’m gonna help you through this.”

In the coming days and weeks, you make the call to the police and John’s family to report him missing. Police come and take your statement. An official investigation is launched. A formal search party assembles and combs through the trails John was known to run on. His body never turns up. Months go by. His case becomes cold. 

You stay with Cal, too heartbroken and anxious to step foot in the apartment you shared with John. “I don’t need office space,” he tells you when he insists you officially move into his extra room and off of his couch. He worked at a coffee shop, after all. He could use his laptop anywhere in the apartment. “It’s just until you’re feeling like yourself again,” he assures you, knowing that you’ll never really leave his side again. Once you’re convinced to sublet your apartment for the rest of your lease, he pays for a company to move all of your belongings in. John’s family comes to retrieve his things. Anything left behind is donated. Another couple takes over your lease. And just like that, every part of John is removed from your life. It’s almost like he was never there at all. Almost.

Six months after you move in with Cal, he starts to see progress on your mood. The combined efforts of therapy, quitting your job, and the emotional support of Buttercup helps you rebloom into the person he remembers from the Cardinal Cafe. Of course he’d love you no matter what, but it was nice to see you smiling again. Especially when it was for him.

“Hey, Cal,” you call out to him as he enters the apartment once he’s out of work. He smiles as he walks through the apartment, heading towards your room. He leans against the door frame and smiles at you as you beam back at him. You set your book to the side of your bed as Buttercup jumps up from your lap, rushing to greet him with a loud, wailing cry of a meow. Feed me, now, she begs. “We missed you.”

He sighs in bliss at your statement. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” you tell him. He watches with admiration as you fidget with your hands, avoiding looking at him while you mumble and launch into a long story. He watches your lips curl into quick, nervous smiles as you talk to him. He’s enamored with you. He’s barely started actually paying attention when your words make his head spin.

“I have feelings for you.”

His ears start to ring. Everything slows, and he can feel each second as it passes. His heart practically leaps out of his chest. You confessed first. He thought he’d be waiting much longer to share his true feelings with you. He was trying to be slow, to respect your mourning period while still showing you how good for you he is… But here you were, already baring your heart. He moves towards you without thinking, crossing the room in a smooth, fluid fashion. He joins you on the bed and takes your hand into his. 

“I’ve known that I liked you for a while now,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You didn’t need to know exactly how long he’d been pining for you. He leans down to rest his forehead against your hand, leaning heavily into your touch. The embarrassment, shock, and excitement of your confession give him a head rush. He feels short of breath and so, so woozy as he lays against you. His cheeks turn red and he feels as if his body is radiating heat. He slowly looks up to you, meeting your gaze with a lovestruck look in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to tell you too soon,” he says. “Didn’t want it to be-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you tell him, using your free hand to move his bangs and caress his face. “I’m just so glad you feel the same.” You start to lean down to him and he quickly fills the gap, capturing you in a firm, impatient kiss. It is the first of many. He did it.

[tennis-kittens]

[fandomwriterstuff]

A Seat at the Round Table (5)

Mob!Stucky x Reader

Rated T

~1.4k words

Sharon agreed that you would be safest under the guardianship of Merlin and Arthur, and she helped you move your meager belongings to their estate. Though with all of the guards around you (Sharon and Sam as well as Natasha and Gwaine), you couldn’t help but think of John and Lemar. They were probably being punished at the metaphorical whipping post for losing you. 

You couldn’t feel too bad though, you wanted your father to worry about you. You wanted him to feel concern over your life. You felt a burgeoning darkness inside of you at the thought of how he had gotten you into this. It started with resentment and was building into something more. 

So when you arrived at the estate at the beginning of your official stay, duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you felt a weird sort of excitement. Maybe by sneaking out and keeping yourself safe during his wild criminal phase, he would see you as a more capable woman. One could only hope.

“You’re looking radiant on this fine morning,” you were greeted by Merlin as he descended from a swirling staircase. You tried to hide your heated cheeks as you offered a shy smile.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay here,” you were giving him an olive branch. They had threatened your father, but offered to keep you safe from harm. You were trying to put trust in them. “This place is lovely,” you added, but cocked your head to the side. “Where’s your other half?”

“He wanted to greet you, but he’s preparing for our first meeting,” the brunet replied, and you couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between the powerful, suit-wearing, dark-eyed enigma from the previous day, and the man who stood before you now. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a navy t-shirt. Both of his arms, the metal and the real, stretched his sleeves. Your eyes glided along the thin fabric and the muscle lines visible there. 

“Shouldn’t you be doing the same?” You asked absentmindedly as you shook yourself out of your admiration. 

“Maybe, but we decided one of us should be here to greet you, even if I can’t stay for long,” he replied with a smile. You felt like you were floating on your back atop the gentle ocean waves, and each and every smile and cute nickname one of these two men uttered was a dangerous riptide just beneath the surface, ready to pull you in. Where to? You didn’t know. 

“That’s awfully kind of you,” you returned his smile. 

“We have a guest room set up for you, if you’ll follow me,” Merlin nodded his head towards the staircase and held out a bent elbow for you to hold onto. Though, when you went to link elbows, he used his other arm to sling your duffel bag from your sore shoulder onto his own sturdier one. 

At your raised eyebrow, he patted your wrist that was wrapped around his elbow. 

“Can’t go around letting my guests carry their own bags.” 

You felt that he was laying the charm on thick to ease you into this situation. Things were uncertain and you were right to be afraid and overwhelmed, but the steady arm beneath yours was grounding, as was the charming smile. You brushed away your anxieties about the intentions of your new housemates, and welcomed the butterflies in your stomach that fluttered at every touch and kind word.

It wouldn’t do to dwell on the negatives when you couldn’t control the situation.

“This is where you’ll be staying. We have a few guest rooms but we keep them available in case any of our closest,” he trailed off as he searched for a term for his employees. “Knights, need a place to stay for a few nights.” You tried not to roll your eyes at the term he used because it was genuinely a nice gesture to have a place for your friends or coworkers to stay, but the theme was going a bit far.

He opened the door to reveal a large but modestly decorated bedroom with an open door leading to an en suite bathroom. 

“I should go help with the preparation downstairs,” the man next to you was near pouting and before he could turn to walk away you reached out and just barely caught his metal arm in your grasp.

“Merlin, thank you. Really.” You gulped, trying to be serious here with all of the butterflies partying in your stomach at his close presence. 

“You’re welcome, doll,” and with one last smile you were left alone in the room. 

You spent quite a while in the shower trying to get the sweat and nerves from the last few days to finally dissipate. You didn’t step out until every inch of your body smelled like the honey scented soap in the shower. When you did step out of the steamy shower, towel wrapped tightly around your body, you walked into the adjoined bedroom only to startle and nearly drop your towel.

“Sharon, Jesus. You can’t scare me like that,” you whisper-shouted at the blonde. Sharon wasn’t overly concerned, looking up from where she was examining her cuticles. 

“Sorry,” she didn’t look it. “I wanted to check on you. See how you were adjusting. Ask if you want lunch.”

You looked over at the clock on the wall. Nearly noon. 

“You must be hungry, you haven’t eaten since yesterday before you met the bosses,” she noted and your growling stomach agreed. You were just so anxious after that first meeting you couldn’t bring yourself to eat.

“You’re right, but I don’t have much to wear. I only packed for a few days and I didn’t remember to bring my winter coat,” you moaned woefully, looking out at the beautiful, snowy New York skyline. You wanted to be out in it. 

“Oh, this coat?” Sharon patted a lump of fluffy cream material piled next to her and you frowned.

“When did you get that?” You wondered aloud, and the stunning blonde shrugged.

“Around the same time I got more of your clothes and belongings. Natasha helped,” she added and you contemplated being angry. But you were more relieved that you would have more options. Sharon helped you pick out a pair of jeans and a sweater that complimented your eyes before throwing on your coat.

“I hope you understand we can’t really wander around what with your father and guards looking for you… But there are a few places the bosses trust with discretion and safety,” Sharon noted the slight wince you gave before brightening up.

“Anything to get outside and enjoy the snow!” You exclaimed, much to Sharon’s amusement. 

“We better get going then,” the other woman commented before tugging you along out the door. “Merlin and Arthur are going to meet us for lunch. That will be in,” she looked down at her watch. “Forty minutes, so we have time to spend outside,” you smiled at her admission and gleefully rushed down the stairs, out the door, and out into the brisk, snowy day. 

You and Sharon were walking down a busy sidewalk when she nudged you with her elbow.

“What?” You asked.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” She prodded and you raised an eyebrow.

“I already thanked you for bringing my coat,” you said slowly, wondering where this was going. 

“But you didn’t thank me for dressing you up cute for our lunch with the boys!” She dragged out the last word and you would have stopped dead in your tracks if twenty-some years of living in this city hadn’t prevented you from doing so. 

“Excuse me?” You squeaked, your cheeks and ears warming.

“Oh come on, I know you’re smitten. At least with Merlin, and you’ll soon follow along being smitten with Arthur!” You could tell she was not-so-secretly enjoying teasing you if her gleeful grin was anything to go by.

“I don’t even know their names!” You countered, exasperatedly. “So? I see the way you look at them,” she winked and you sputtered.

“But they’re… You know…” you wove your fingers together and gestured at her. “Together.” At least you assumed they were. 

“Three’s a party, baby. I know it, you know it, and I am sure those men would agree.”

Part 4 Part 6

[chiwhorei]

the folly of man

pairing: e. todoroki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: ~2.6k

tags: the softest!enji there ever was, crybabie!reader, age gap (20ish vs. 50), d/s dynamics, belly bulge, squirting, overstim, daddy kink, size kink, dacryphilia, a spank, breeding kink, creampie, i am dramatic and clinically melancholy so it’s a little angsty but it’s really just unabashed, self-indulgent fluff

a/n: i screamed about soft!enji to @messwriting a few weeks ago, then the other night enji took me to paris and wrecked my shit in my dreams. the result? complete self-indulgence. i will not be taking criticism on my desire to fuck this man, he is a drawing. (the banner image is from the lonely doll by dare wright, if you know this book we probably have very similar issues sksksksksk)

hymn: angel by finneas

“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss,” ~ John Milton, Paradise Lost

He swears it’s your quirk that got him. Grabbed him by the collar, stole his soul from his chest— you swiped it right from his rib cage.

You sit across from him, legs folded under each other and pen pressing against your lips. Is it your lips? Or the way words curl past them?

A siren’s call in the form of a 20-something journalist. He hates the likes— prodding for sound bites and snippets to plaster across front pages. But your figure buckles in on itself, nerves weighing down the fabric of a light pink blouse and tight-yet-tasteful pencil skirt. Your presence is gentle and honeyed, it feels warm where Enji is usually burning hot.

Your fever spreads across his cheeks and nose.

“I’m sorry, sir, did you need me to repeat the question?”

Your bottom lip trembles nervously, pulled in between your teeth to gnaw on. Freshly graduated and on your very first assignment, it seemed hilarious to send the newly minted recruit into a white-hot tongue lashing.

“Mr. Number One has chewed the head off of every reporter in Japan, it’s a right of passage.”

The echo of your colleague’s stifled laugh rings in your ear as you stare back, you scan over the small wrinkles by his eyes and the jagged scar across his face. The silvered skin curves around his features like atonement. There’s something about the prolific hero that seems to pull you towards him. You grab the side of your chair so as to not fall forward right into his orbit.

Any attempt at distance was doomed from the beginning.

He shakes his head, eyes darting from either of yours to find the question you asked him. He coughs awkwardly, nodding his head for you to continue. Any desire to snap at you dissolves into the carpet with the very first laugh. You let out a small, tinkling giggle against better judgement that cracks the glassed tension.

“What is your biggest inspiration?”

The question hangs in the air a moment before a rehearsed answer falls from his mouth, something about the citizens of his community and the desire to keep his country safe. Whatever tumbles out is less interesting than how you smile in response.

Every person in the room-- agents, publicists, the poor intern holding a black coffee in his trembling hands-- watch on, collectively agape, at the scene before them.

Flame Hero: Endeavor breaks composure for a moment to send you a docile, lopsided smile.

You decide it’s something you won’t soon get tired of seeing.

“Did you get everything you wanted,” his voice trails off with a hint of uncertainty, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, “I could answer a few more questions over dinner.”

Enji stands in shock at his own behavior, the inferno flickers little more than a candle in your eyeline. Every minute holds sixty seconds of opportunity, and Enji’s hair is graying at the ends. Even if you brush the dusty old hero from your shoulders with guffaw, even if you roll your eyes or kiss his insole with a pointed heel. He can’t afford to waste a moment more.

It has to be your quirk, he decides, reciting like a prayer the only logical answer to his sweating palms and clambering heart. Nothing makes sense but keeping you within arms reach. It must be some kind of hypnosis, maybe a pheromone.

Enji’s penance lies in the soft, supplied skin of a quirkless civilian.

***

There are few places that have felt like home, no matter what four walls build a house around him. He alone is responsible for each one decaying. He deserves a spot in every plane of hell.

Enji leans against the headboard, scanning over pages of John Milton and enjoying the quiet just after dusk. Looking over the top of his glasses, the book in hand falls out of frame, like most everything does.

Pink lace hangs like bated breath from your shoulders and hips. You look on to him for approval, the set your eyes had lingered on in a boutique window now brandishes the swell of your breasts.

“My perfect girl.” His words are filled with wonder, pulling at the ends of his mouth when you twirl, the ends of flowing lace pick up around you like wings.

Winter air creeps from the open balcony to hit your skin, spreading chills down every inch. Enji watches as you shiver, the cool breeze prickles past pick lace with little effort.

“Come here.” Enji tosses his glasses and book to the bedside table and pats his lap.

Nothing feels more like home than when you settle to lie atop his naked chest, cheek pressed firmly against his pulse.

You rest your chin against his sternum, hands crawling up to find warmth from his skin. He feels the thin, golden ring as your touch trails around his neck.

His own hands, calloused and battered, eclipse over your lower back to find purchase against your ass.

Away from the prying eyes of domestic paparazzi and forty minutes outside of Paris— Enji cuts out what feels like a stolen heaven.

Idle chat about the museum he took you to today fills the room comfortably. Your fingertip comes down to trace the lines of marred skin across the bridge of his nose, he hums and smiles as you talk about paintings.

None stood out to him.

He takes your hand in his much bigger one, kissing the band that mimics his own. You tangle your fingers together.

“This feels like a dream,” your voice is barely above a whisper, lest the night air hears the talk of lovers.

“I’m not totally convinced you aren’t a dream.” Enji pulls you to sit back against his legs, in this position you can meet his eyes without straining upward. Strong hands come down to rest at your hips, thumbs rubbing lightly against the lingerie’s fabric.

You scoff, batting at his chest, you laugh his comments off in moments like this. But Enji is convinced one day you will lift straight from the world with nothing left but your shoes keeping the earth weighted down.

Soft lips ghost over his, an invitation he’ll never refuse. Your mouth is against him, small hands coming to either side of Enji’s face. His graying stubble is coarse under your fingers. You inhale deeply, he smells like campfire and expensive cologne. Your tongue slips between his lips. His mouth tastes like the remnants of the bottle of red wine you shared after dinner

The hands around your middle pull your impossibly closer, pressing into your lower back to grind your hips down against the bulge in his sweatpants. Your body moves against him, panties rubbing against your already throbbing clit.

“Daddy.” The title wraps in chords around his vertebrae, the sounds of whimpering hits his ear, and he notices the wet patch rubbing right against his knee.

“What do you want, princess? Tell daddy what you want.” The maneuvering of your hips starts slow, but Enji has you almost bouncing on his leg before you can answer him. Both of your hands wrap around his left wrist, tugging it in between your legs.

“I want you to touch me, please. I- I need it.” You bite the inside of your cheek when the pads of his fingers graze the damp, thin material of your panties, his burning touch sets every blood cell aflame.

“You’re so wet, princess, what’s got you all worked up?” There’s a gleam of humor in his voice, seeing you desperate for him has Enji stiffening beneath you.

“My precious little thing, I’ll take good care of you.” His words write you a promise, it extends far past a night of love in Paris.

You can feel his assurance carved into your heart.

Enji’s hand dips into the front of your underwear, ghosting over your clit and running against your swollen lips. He marvels at your response, the smallest ministrations have your head rolling to the side.

His pointer and middle finger prod against you, inching inside carefully. Even with the utmost care, you wince at the stretch. No matter how many times he’s fucked you open in this whirlwind year,

“You’re tighter than a fucking vise, Christ.”

A long moan escapes you, knees moving to dig into the mattress below you for leverage to buck against his hand. Enji curls his fingers upwards, calloused tips finding the spongy patch of skin that has you squirming. His fingers cross over each other, pumping into you and easing you to relax against the intrusion.

“Daddy, I want your cock. I’m ready, please.” The heat in your core is rising, licking against your nerves like wildfire. Enji tutts in response to your begging, his thumb coming down to rub taught circles into your clit.

“I know, princess, but you remember the rules. Cum on my fingers, and I’ll give you what you want.” Enji picks up the pace of his fingers, his own patience thinning at the edges with each call for your daddy.

“Close, ‘m close,” your voice wobbles, aching legs pushing you against him, chasing desperately for that first release.

Enji feels you clenching tight in finality, a squeal breaching the steamy space around you. You crack in his tight hold, the taste of bliss coats your tongue-- it tastes like tears.

You slump forward against his chest, coming to float back down to earth before he sends you hurdling back towards the sun.

“You’re so beautiful, princess, absolutely perfect.” Enji’s voice is heavy, lined with a certain bitterness you are familiar with. His compliments always sound like apologies.

You lift your head, forehead pressing against his, the stray hair around your face tickling his skin.

There aren’t words that could heal decades. No amount of atonement, no prayers to any gods will fix a life of despair. He shoulders the blame of it all, heavy against bones and muscle.

Moving to kiss him tenderly, lips pulling him back into the world's sweetest direction. You shouldn’t let him use you as his redemption. If Enji were another man, a better man, he would have walked away from you that fateful afternoon under fluorescent light with just the fleeting feeling you dipped his heart in.

He’s not any kind of good in this world, Enji is a foolish bastard.

He’ll keep kissing you, he’ll touch and lick and fuck you until your wings pick up in the wind and fly you away.

“I want to ride your cock, Daddy. Let me make you feel good too.” You beg for him once again, you beg to be a distraction, the sweetest kind of diversion-- hidden snugly in the quiet of a French villa.

Enji is meticulous with stripping you of the dainty lace, brushing off the straps of your bra so the cups fall right under your pert nipples. He moves his hands slowly, snaking up your sides to swipe his thumbs against the pebbled buds. You don’t try to stop the wines falling like prayer, your body still on edge from your first orgasm.

He pulls off your soaked panties, eyes tracing the strings of slick collecting and breaking off from your glistening cunt.

“Such a precious little pussy, and it’s all mine.” Enji frees his cock from his sweats and boxers, the length springing to slap against his abdomen. He pumps his hand a few times before pressing it against your stomach. It’s no surprise that his size is impressive, long and thick in an ever-intimidating way.

Enji admires how his cock presses against you, tip nudging against your belly button. In comparison to your smaller form, it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped you in half.

You’d let him.

“No more teasing, Daddy. I need it, please.” Desperation sparks against your nerves, igniting with the sharp sound of Enji’s hand against your ass.

“Don’t get mouthy now, princess.” His warning is light, he’s never been good at denying you.

He pulls your hips up, lining himself up so you can sink down onto him. If his fingers make you whimper, the first breach of his shaft makes you wail.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging in to steady yourself with every deliciously unforgiving inch. You’ll never get used to his size, you never want to.

Enji has held composure with white knuckles, but his resolve is rusting with every movement of your descent. His desire to tear into you becomes untamable, his mind swims in with the velveteen grip you suck him in with.

“You’re mine, fuck, you’re mine forever.” He will promise you until he believes it himself.

He’ll believe in forever if forever means you.

The folly of man is nestled at the apex of your thighs, is pleading gasps, is begging for more, is too much and too little.

And Enji is a fool in love.

The gates of heaven open between your quivering legs to let the devil in. He’ll take every moment he can steal.

As your hips settle down finally, the feeling of being so completely full has tears collecting in your lashes to run down your cheeks. It’s depraved, truly, how beautiful your destruction is.

Enji gives you a moment, adjusting to his size and relaxing, his hand comes down to rub against your stomach, tracing against the skin lightly.

“I can feel it,” his breath hitches, the pulsing around him is dizzying, he feels his tip as it moves inside of you, “fuck, I can feel my cock in your tummy.”

Shaky thighs start moving above him, the bounce of fat and flesh atop his hardened body. He can’t help the declarations flying from his mouth, he can’t stop the itching feeling to make you his completely.

“I want to fuck a baby into you, want to fill you so full.” He can feel the way your body reacts to his most perverse desire, “I want you round and swollen with my child.”

Enji grabs your hips, taking control and quickening the pace of his assault on your weeping pussy. You cry out, a string of babbled, “Please, daddy, please fuck me full, s-so full.”

You can feel your second orgasm bubbling up with each stroke of Enji’s cock against your abused pussy. All words are lost, all thoughts fuzzy aside from the man pounding himself into you from below.

“Cum around me, little girl, cum around my cock.” Enji’s words are little more than a growl, head thrown back into the pillows as you constrict around him. His fingers come down against your clit again, rubbing with fervor. He’s adamant on throwing you head-first, body limp and overstimulated in every way.

You feel it in the gnashing of your teeth, the wound chord snapping like floss around Enji. You feel yourself gushing, your cum leaking around him and dripping onto the bed sheets.

Enji cums with one final buck, hips lifting off of the bed as he spills into you. You can feel the thick spurts against your still pulsating walls, filling you to the brim and trickling out even before you separate.

He stays inside of you for a moment, large hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you to crumble into his chest. You collapse against his warm, jagged skin. He lulls you with soft strokes to your hair, behind the flush and sweat on your face, he sees the dizzy, love-drunk expression tugging on your lips.

No matter how many times you disagree, Enji knows it’s true.

The swelling, disorienting feeling of your smile. The visions of a future, of the life he doesn't deserve but wouldn’t give up for any deal the devil could make him. The sight of you, simply and without motive, every day.

It has to be your quirk.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[nightscissor]

The Bad Batch

Love Languages HC

Part One: Wrecker

so we can all just casually imagine ourselves with our sweet gentle giant!! this is mostly fluffy with a hint of spice because we all know he’s touch starved and a tiiiiiny bit horny. but i promise this is sfw!

(this is my first fic to make it out of my drafts since the infamous and horrifying john laurens x alexander hamilton modern college au wattpad incident of my questionable middle school self LOLZ so i suppose even if this isn’t fantastic, it can’t get worse than that ahdjsjsjak)

warnings: two slight sexual references (minors no thank u) but let me know if i missed anything else i should tag for!

length: idk how to check word count yet, but short i think :3

Our big boy is totally physical touch and quality time, I mean, we see how he shows his brotherly support for Omega by hanging out with her and carrying her on his shoulders! He also likes to give his brothers loving shoves and pats on the back, so that translates to your relationship with him, but of course in a romantic context instead!

Cuddling is undeniably Wrecker’s favorite, he loves to hold his Lula, but he loves to hold you way, way more. Wrecker especially loves wrapping you up in his strong arms while spooning you, and he likes to run his big hands over your body because you’re just so cute and little compared to him! Remember, it doesn’t matter what size you are, you’ll always be tiny compared to Wrecker, and he is absolutely obsessed.

Another favorite of Wrecker’s is having you lie on top of him with your legs on either side of his hips and your head on his chest. He never has any trouble breathing or moving since he’s so incredibly strong and you weigh practically nothing to him, and his big heart just melts when you nuzzle your face into him. The only problem with cuddling is that he’ll often wake up with his little “friend” showing how much he loves you, but that’s a story for another day.

If you’re hanging out with the whole group, Wrecker makes a point to sit as close to you as physically possible and will try to be touching you in some way, even though he knows he’ll be teased relentlessly by his brothers for it. At 79s, he keeps an arm slung around your shoulders and pats or rubs your back if you take a particularly strong shot.

He even tries to keep you sitting in his lap at all times on the Havoc Marauder, although when you (frequently) have to brace for a crash landing, Tech insists you strap in separately for safety’s sake. Wrecker would rather keep you close to him to keep you safe himself, but if sitting separately is what it takes to ensure you won’t be hurt, he begrudgingly obliges.

Wrecker would love to spend alone time with you to show you his explosives and he always makes time to work out together. Working out with Wrecker means lots of big smiles and pats on the back of encouragement. He always makes sure to spot you when you’re lifting and although he’d never tell you this for fear of making you feel uncomfortable or objectified, his favorite is when you’re doing squats or deadlifts with him spotting. Nothing gets this man going like seeing his crush/partner being strong, and as someone with a total ass preference, he secretly likes to watch you when you’re building those glutes.

On the off chance that something does go wrong with some heavy weights and you need his help, Wrecker notices instantly and uses one hand to grab the bar from you and the other on your lower back to stabilize your body so you don’t fall and hurt yourself. He sets the weights down and picks you up to cary you to a good place to sit so you can take a breather and hydrate. And even though you’re both sweaty and a little stinky, Wrecker likes to keep you in his lap or at least keep his hands on you because you startled the big sweet boy and he just wants to make sure you’re alright.

The best way to show Wrecker how much you love him back is to reciprocate his affectionate touches and to set aside time to spend alone with him.

Wrecker absolutely melts when you hold his hand, his favorite is when you hold onto his index and middle fingers while he wraps his huge hand around your comparatively tiny one. He just loves the way your warm little hand fits within his own large one. He also likes knowing that you’re safe and sound right next to him when you’re walking.

After a long day, a hard mission, or an intense workout, Wrecker loves a nice massage. He’ll never ask for one, but when you offer he just can’t refuse. Your hands running along the expanse of his back and working out the knots in his muscles relaxes him more than anything and he’ll be nearly asleep before you’re done.

If you have some free time reserved and ask him to be the one to spend it with you, you’ll get to see Wrecker smile brighter than the stars as he enthusiastically accepts. Wrecker would do nothing or anything as long as it’s with you!

[dedkake]

dance with me | mcshep, .6k, t

for @a-storm-of-roses​ who requested putting an arm around the other’s waist, kissing the other’s brow, and dancing with each other from the touch prompts (and i’m a sucker so you get all of them 💜)

read it below or on ao3

-

It’s just another stupid mission. Another frivolous dinner party on a planet that’s barely going to be worth their time. There’s no reason for Rodney to think anything of it.

He can’t stop, though. His brain keeps spinning circles well after he sits down.

John’s still dancing— wry and grinning and awkward as he follows first Teyla’s lead, then Ronon’s.

It doesn’t make any sense for Rodney to linger on it, because it doesn’t mean anything. But he can’t stop thinking about the weight of John’s arm wrapped around his waist, the way John leaned into him as they danced.

--

“You don’t have to do this,” Rodney says, hating the universe.

“I’m not doing it for nothing,” John says, his hand coming down decisively on Rodney’s shoulder. “Come on.”

Rodney glares up at him. “I hate dancing.”

“I know.”

John doesn’t pull his hand back as Rodney pushes himself to his feet. He even squeezes, reassuring and gentle and entirely unhelpful.

“It’s me or Harmony.” John Sheppard, master of the obvious once again.

Rodney glares at him, focusing on the music instead of the way John’s hand trails down his back as they take their places on the dance floor.

---

The music isn’t loud enough to drown out conversation, which Rodney would appreciate under normal circumstances. There are too many guns and watchful eyes for this to be anything remotely normal.

Leaning close, Rodney whispers, “What’s the plan?”

John tenses up, despite the fact that he’s leading them almost effortlessly in something like a waltz.

Turning slightly, enough that no one will notice except Rodney, who really notices, because it means John’s lips brush against his ear as he says, “You’re supposed to have the plan.”

It’s all Rodney can do to bite his lip and try not to shiver.

----

Rodney hasn’t ever seen John this drunk, not even on that planet with the almost-tequila. He’s never seen John so happy before, either, so he’s having a hard time being annoyed.

They’re packed together in some San Francisco club, and even with Teyla and Ronon, nothing they’re doing could actually be considered dancing, especially not when Ronon gives John a gentle shove that tips him into Rodney.

Rodney slides his fingers through John’s sweaty hair, trying to pull him back and off, laughing until he sees the way John’s eyes fall closed, the soft smile that pulls at his lips.

-----

John holds his hand out and Rodney takes it without thinking, lets John pull him to his feet.

“Dance with me,” John says, looking hopeful and perfect in the moonlight.

There’s no one else with them on the pier, no one watching, no one encouraging this. There isn’t even any music.

“I can’t,” Rodney says, because this doesn’t happen to people like him. “There isn’t any music and music aside, you know I have no idea how to dance—”

John pulls him close, presses his lips to his forehead. “Dance with me,” he says again, tipping their foreheads together. “Please.”

+

“Think anyone would notice if we left?” John asks, sprawled loosely in his chair.

“Cadman would,” Rodney says, eying the spread of John’s legs.

On cue, Cadman rounds on them from across the room, beckoning one or both of them to dance.

“Duty calls,” John says, leaning forward over his knees, but making no further move to stand.

Rodney reaches out, resting his hand on the back of John’s neck before he realizes. “I’d rather dance with you.”

John slants a grin at him, patting his knee in a way that could be friendly, but leaves Rodney tingling. “I know.”

on ao3

[ijenoyou]

It’s you again. one.

bucky barnes x stark!reader.

summary; when Bucky sees you again a few months after the blip he can’t help but remember his past lover.

warnings; spoilers from the serie hehe prob angst & fluff ig lol mentions of tony’s death

notes; soooo it’s been a while since i’ve written something sooo this might suck ass lol anyways remember english isn’t my first language sooo yeah enjoy :D

You were too tired to keep your eyes open, your body kept on swaying until you finally gave up making your head land on Bucky’s shoulder. His conversation with Sam getting interrupted when he felt your arms hug his metal arm.

Sharon had a smirk on her face and decided to start getting prepared for a meeting she had. “I have stuff to do so why don’t you guys enjoy the party? And don’t cause any trouble.” She said before leaving the room.

Sam stood up and began walking towards the door with Zemo following him. “You coming?” He asked his new partner.

“Uh, yeah, just let me lay her down.” Bucky answered and took your head carefully, guiding your body to lay properly on the couch, you were still holding onto his arm so he took one of the matching cushions of the couch and gave it to you so your arms could let go of his.

He took his jacket off and decided to cover you with it, making sure your back and arms were under it. He softly smiled and placed a piece of hair behind your ear so it wouldn’t tickle your face.

After that he turned around and saw both Sam and Zemo looking at him a subtle smirk. “What?”

“I’ve never seen you being so gentle.” He mocked gaining a groan from Bucky. “What’s up with that? Since the whole mission started you have been acting weird, is it because of Stark?”

“Depends on which one you’re talking about.” Bucky took one last glance at your sleeping figure.

“Her.”

Sighing, Bucky massaged his temple. “I need a drink first.”

*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡*･ﾟ｡

Back on Zemo’s private jet you decided to give everyone the cold shoulder, angry at them for leaving you without saying anything or at least leaving a note. You could’ve helped them with the hundreds of mercenaries that attacked them. Zemo placed a plate with food on it in front of you and gave you a small smile, trying to make you feel at ease.

Walking down the street with Zemo like nothings wrong made you feel on edge. Thinking that maybe the new copy of Steve would appear and make things harder but you kept on wishing that it wouldn’t be the case. Zemo lead the group to a unknown building.

“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky said out of nowhere.

“Take Y/N with you, don’t what could happen.” Sam said and took your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes. “Sam, he can take care of himself.” Taking his hand off your shoulder you began walking to the buildings door, leaving everyone behind.

“See you guys in a bit.”

He came back after a few minutes and started talking about how the wakandians are looking for Zemo.

All of this mess made you wonder why were you there in the first place. Sure, you had nothing to do since your father died and also coming back after 5 years, didn’t help at all. But maybe you were there because Sam called, he was the only one who tried to search for you when you decided to disappear.

“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo’s voice brought you back into reality after watching their whole conversation and play it on your mind.

“What’s a TT?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Whatever, we need to get moving.” Sam spoke dismissing the question you made.

You weren’t sure if the plan would work, searching for Donya was harder that you could think of and it definitively made you wonder what could go wrong if anyone from the group made a mistake. And losing your powers didn’t help the situation at all. But that’s a secret. Nobody knows you lost them and the most important thing, nobody knows you’re slowly dying. So maybe that’s one of the reasons you decided to help Sam, doing a last mission until your body gives up. You just hoped you get to finish the mission and not die in the middle of it.

But now, you had to worry about another thing. And that is John Walker, getting himself in things he doesn’t understand nor is involved in. Waiting for Sam next to him wasn’t the best moment in your life, the only thing you could do was stare at him with dislike written on your face.

Feelings like your skins burned you decided to start rubbing the sides of your neck and Bucky didn’t let that pass through blind eyes.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks with a bit of concern filling his voice.

“Uh, yeah.” You cleared your throat. “I’m probably getting sick, don’t worry.”

Before Bucky could say anything else, Walker decided to put the mission on risk and walk inside the building Sam and Karli were having a conversation. You extended your hand to hold John by the shoulder.

“Why don’t you go and take a seat? You’re going to ruin the plan if you walk inside.” You spoke, trying to hold in the pain and burning under your skin.

John pushed you and entered the building.

And just like that, the whole situation became a mess. Ruining and shouting, the only thing you had become used to in these days.

The Dora Milaje were now your only solution. And they definitely know how to make a good entrance.

“Why don’t you relax pal?” You said to John before he gets himself hurt by the Dora Milaje, but it was too late, he placed his hand on Ayo’s shoulder. Big mistake.

You decided to sit back and watch them fight, you and Zemo exchanged looks, you gave him a nod, letting him go to the bathroom and possibly run away.

“I told you to relax, it’s what you deserve for being an ass.” You spoke with mock towards John.

Before the Dora Milaje could leave, Ayo turned her head to you and extended her hand, which was holding a stick, just like the ones the Dora Milaje use but it looked different.

“Here, Shuri told me to give it to you.” You took it and placed on your back.

Now it was only Sam, Bucky and you.

You were too tired to keep going, there’s was no point in being there without powers, you could barely fight and it made you angry. But what made you feel even worse is that you didn’t know what was causing it and seeing your body fill in with different colored lines brought back some bad memories.

Tony was well-know for not sharing his feelings or thoughts. And that made it harder for you to help him. Being at a young age didn’t matter, you did understand what was happening to him, slowly dying by the toxins coming from his reactor.

Seeing the lines in his neck will always haunt you for the rest of your life. The worst part of it is that you couldn’t tell anyone about it, he made you promise not to tell Pepper or Happy and that also caused you some trauma. He made you believe you couldn’t vent out your problems to your family or friends. You didn’t have anyone. Not even Pepper. You decided not to bother her or Morgan with the “My adoptive dad died and I have no one else” act. So it was really hard to say anything to Bucky or Sam, you didn’t want them to know that your body is not the same since you fought against Thanos.

“Go to Sarah’s, I’ll tell her to receive you back at home, okay?” Sam took both of your shoulders. “You don’t look so well, let Buck and I finish this and then call me when you feel better.”

You nodded and decided to leave immediately. Before you could go, Bucky took your arm, grabbing your attention.

“Be careful, if something happens call me immediately.” He said in a serious tone. You pushed his hand off you and muttered a small yes.

Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave your figure until it disappeared behind doors. Sighing he took a seat on the coach.

“I think it’s time for you to tell me what’s happening between you and Y/N.” Sam demanded while crossing his arms.

Nodding, Bucky tapped the seat next to him, indicating Sam to sit there so he could start speaking.

“I’ve known her even before the mess at the airport started.” Bucky started to slowly speak. “Or at least her face.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N, she looks like someone I used to know back in the 40s, her name was Sophia.” He explained with clear pain showing in his eyes. “Sophia and I met while I was preparing to become a soldier, she was a nurse back then.”

“What happened to her?” Sam asked with wonder running in his mind. He wanted to ask more questions about this person.

“Died of old age. I fell in love with her, but never saw Sophie again, after Steve rescued me I tried searching for her but nobody knew what happened to her and just decided not to tell anyone about it.”

“Not even Steve?”

Bucky shook his head and sighed. “When I saw Y/N back at the airport I thought my mind was playing games with me and that’s why I never touched her when Y/N and Tony decided to go against Steve and I.”

Sam patted his friends back, trying to bring him some kind of comfort but it didn’t help.

“And I’m just frustrated because I don’t know why she looks like Sophie, I asked the wakandians if they could find any information about Sophie and they found about her family, she had two kids and one of them had a girl.” Bucky bit his lips, trying to see if he could continue the story.

“You don’t have to tell me everything Buck, if it’s hard for you then you ca—“

Bucky’s voice interrupted him. “It’s fine. You see, everyone knows Tony adopted her, so it felt like there only was one answer. She had to be the daughter of Sophie’s children but then it was another death end. I recently found out that she’s not from Sophie’s family. It’s just fate I guess.”

“Maybe the destiny is giving you another chance to be with her.” Sam tried to give a good answer to him after what he said.

“I don’t think so but if it is that way, then I don’t deserve it”

[birdiefw]

JJ MAYBANK | NOT SO SNEAKY

Summary: You and JJ had been dating for a little over a month and have unintentionally made it your thing to kiss whenever your friends weren’t paying attention.

Warnings: swearing, drug use, sexual innuendos

A/N: It’s been some time since I wrote something like this so I’m sorry for any mistakes! I’d love to make more, though, so feel free to send in requests!

[not my gif]

It all started with a quick kiss late one night. You don’t know what came over you, but as soon as Pope turned his back to you and JJ, you were leaning over and planting a sweet kiss on JJ’s cheek. He was caught off guard by it as you’d both agreed you didn’t want your friends to know just yet, but he’d just smiled and returned the affection — seconds before Pope turned back around and continued to explain why he wanted to be a coroner. From that moment, you and JJ would steal kisses whenever you could when you were around your friends. When it was just you two, there were plenty of kisses, but doing it around your friends — it made it more exciting with the thought of being caught.

At the moment, you and JJ were impatiently waiting in John B.’s Volkswagen with Pope and Kiara while John B. was searching all through his home for his favorite surfboard. You and the Pogues were planning on going to the beach to catch some waves before the storm rolled in, but John B. was having trouble finding his own board. Pope was sat up front and reading a book you’d forgotten the name of already, Kiara leaning against the side of the van, leaving only you and JJ in the back. “Is he sure it isn’t already—”

“Do any of us look like John B. to you?” You teased Pope, cocking a brow towards the boy when he glanced over his shoulder to look in your direction.

“I’m just saying!” Pope defended meekly, shaking his head as he face forward. “It wouldn’t be the first time he forgot it was already on the roof.”

Kiara let out an annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes. It shouldn’t be taking him this long. “I’m gonna go help him look,” she stated, pausing to look inside the van towards you.

You raised your brows expectantly, unsure of what she was wanting. “Okay?”

“Are you sure you wanna be left alone with dumb and dumber?” Kiara asked, unsure as to why you were willingly remaining in the back with JJ as he was expertly rolling a joint you would/wouldn’t be taking hits of later.

You snickered, your smile widening by the offended expressions on Pope and JJ’s face. You nodded, ignoring the sharp glare you were receiving from your boyfriend when you didn’t defend him. “I think I can handle them,” you replied reassuringly. “Besides, this one needs two people watching him at all times to make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid,” you said, nudging your head in JJ’s direction.

Kiara chuckled, backing towards the Chateau. “Suit yourself, Y/N.”

With that, Kiara jogged off towards the house so they could hopefully leave sooner rather than later. You let out a content sigh once she was out of sight and pulled out your phone to check your notifications. You were going to reply to a text, but you froze when you felt JJ’s breath fan against your exposed neck. You didn’t dare move, afraid it’d capture Pope’s attention.

Your eyes darted aside, but all you saw was a smug smirk on JJ’s face the closer he got closer to you. “Better be still,” he whispered, softly pressing his lips to your skin. Your eyes instinctively fluttered closed, tilting your head to give him more access — it only made his dimpled smirk widen proudly. “Don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, and you hated how he was affecting you so much with only the little pecks. He was such a tease, and though you enjoyed it at times, so were you. He hated it when you teased him, though. But after all, this was a game for the both of you, and you weren’t going to let him be the only one daring to do something with Pope so close to you two and within eyesight.

You suddenly moved so you and JJ were side by side, your hand going to hold the back of his neck. His eyes widened in excitement, your lips pressing to his lips before he had time to think. He kissed you back hungrily, one of his hands going to your lower back. You playfully bit his lip and he let out a huff, wanting more. However, you pulled away just as quickly and glanced down to your phone as if nothing had just happened.

Pope turned to face you two, noting JJ’s flushed appearance after he heard an odd sound come from the blond. “Dude, are you okay?”

JJ scoffed, clenching his jaw. He didn’t dare look at you, but you knew you’d succeeded. “Yeah, just peachy.”

You smirked to yourself and went back to scrolling through your phone. JJ finished rolling his joint with his heart still thumping loudly in his chest with an ache for more. He carefully placed it to his lips and went to light it, but it was swiftly snatched away by Pope. You winced, knowing JJ didn’t like it when someone did that — especially when he was wanting it to relax him after you’d started something you weren’t going to be finishing anytime soon.

“Bro!” JJ gaped, attempting to take it back.

Pope shook his head and held it further away from his friend, glaring. “Not in the van, bro!”

“I just want a lil taste! It’ll be so quick you won’t even smell it!” JJ defended, trying to grab it again. Pope slid out of the passenger side, daring JJ to make a move.

“Didn’t you already get a taste?” John B. replied instead, cradling his surfboard under his arm with Kiara walking beside him, something unfamiliar on her stunning features. Pope frowned while you and JJ had confused expressions etched on your faces. Surely they didn’t know. John B. rolled his eyes and pointedly glanced between you and JJ, causing your heart to sink. “Are you serious right now? You two aren’t very sneaky.”

Your face paled in realization, lips parting. They knew?

JJ remained calm, feigning further confusion. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

Kiara moved closer to the van, her arms folded over her chest and head titled. “Cut the bullshit, JJ,” she said, faintly smiling. Then her eyes flickered go you. “Really, Y/N? JJ of all people?”

Your cheeks turned pink, a groan leaving your lips as you pushed your face into your hands. JJ grunted and threw his hands up in the air, eyes pinned to you. “We could’ve fooled them if you’d just tried a little harder, baby!”

“No, you couldn’t have,” Pope retorted, climbing back inside with JJ’s joint hidden in place the surfer boy would never find it; for now. You moved to sit closer to JJ, giving Kiara more room to enter the back of the van while John B. made his way to the drivers side so you all could get going. “I saw you guys at the movies.”

“Movies?” Kiara repeated, face scrunched together. “I saw them at the beach the week before.”

You and JJ briefly glanced to each other, slightly amused. You hadn’t intended for your friends to find out yet, or this way at least, but you were glad they didn’t seem to mind it; you hated the no pogue on pogue macking rule and feared that your friends wouldn’t approve of you and JJ. Thankfully, they felt otherwise. “Wait, how long has this been going on?” Pope wondered, eyes burning into you and JJ for answers.

You pursed your lips in thought, glancing down to your wrist that did not have a watch wrapped around it. “Five weeks, two days, and 16 minutes.”

JJ laughed under his breath, not having any problems with wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side to let everyone know you were in fact his. John B. faintly smiled, but it was suddenly replaced by a frown as he faced the crew. “Hang on,” he said, blinking in surprise, but his eyes were on Pope and Kiara. “You two already knew about this?”

Pope and Kiara nodded in unison. “Well duh. Didn’t you?” Kiara laughed.

“They’re weren’t very discreet,” Pope said, momentarily pausing. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug.

John B. scoffed, his brows knitted together. “I only found out today!”

You giggled, reaching forward to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “It’s okay, John B.,” you said kindly. “Despite what Pope and Kie say, we were pretty good at hiding it for a while.”

“Sure, Y/N,” Kie teased.

You gave her a playful shove, making her let out a loittke augh. Your body curled further into JJ’s side once John B. started up the Volkswagen and began heading towards the awaiting beach. You let out a content sigh as you relaxed in your boyfriends safe arms, smiling to yourself when he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey, just because we know now doesn’t mean you can be all lovey-dovey whenever you want,” Pope playfully scolded when he saw the kiss.

John B. chuckled, stealing a look in the rear view mirror. “Save it for the bedroom.”

“Oh, we will,” JJ smugly said, grinning from ear to ear. You whacked his arm in disgust and Kie grimaced, facing the window. JJ only chuckled and tightened his grip on you, making you feel at ease with the world.

Though your friends now knew about you and JJ, you had a feeling that you and JJ would happily continue to try and get as many kisses in without your friends noticing the exchanges, and you didn’t mind one bit.

————

A/N: PLEASE DON’T HESITATE TO LEAVE OR MESSAGE ME SOME REQUESTS!

[one-boring-person]

What's Funny?

John Rambo (between Rambo II and Rambo III) x reader

Warnings: some sexual content implied? Slight injury

Context: John teaches the reader to ride a horse. (Set between the second and third movie)

A/N: this was not supposed to turn out how it did; it was supposed to stay innocent! But ah well, it is what it is. Also, I apologise if parts of this are inaccurate, I am by no means that knowledgeable on horse riding, so please excuse any inaccuracies!

Masterlist

I instinctively tense up in the saddle as I feel the horse beneath me shift, the sensation of being sat on something alive very odd to me, despite all the stranger things I've done in my life. Sensing this, the animal whinnies and paws at the dusty ground, tossing its head slightly, clearly thinking I'm in distress, even though I'm not. Biting my lip, I try to relax again, taking the reins a little looser in my hands, adjusting my feet in the stirrups. Still holding the bridle for me, my companion, John, reaches up to pat the horse's neck, trying to soothe it as he eyes my posture.

"You need to relax more." He states, reaching over to lightly pinch the muscle in my arm, feeling how tense it is, his touch almost reassuring to me, "Stop tensing up so much, nothing bad is gonna happen."

"I know, I'm just...nervous, that's all." I mumble back, slightly ashamed at my incapability to do something he makes look so simple.

"Don't be, you'll be fine. There, now just lightly touch your heels to his side and click your tongue." The dark-haired veteran moves his hands, holding onto the leading rope instead.

Taking a breath, I do as he says, my jaw clenching when the horse starts into a slow walk, snorting and tossing its head impatiently. The movement feels odd beneath me, but I settle into it with some ease, still uncomfortable but not badly so, my eyes flicking to John for knowledge on whether I'm doing this right. He watches me carefully, leading the horse round in a circle, adjusting my posture here and there, sending me a look of reassurance when he catches my eye. I start getting the hang of it, relaxing slightly into the saddle as the horse starts to get used to me, the movements becoming smoother and more fluid, a small hesitant smile breaking out onto my lips. 

"Enjoying yourself?" John asks after a moment, the start of a smile pulling at his lips, dark eyes glittering with triumph. 

"Yeah, I am now." I reply, grinning at him as I reach forward to pat the horse's neck.

"Good, I'm glad." He responds, swiping a hand over his brow, "Stop a minute, I've gotta take this off."

The muscular man gestures to his large overshirt, waiting for me to slow to a halt before dropping the lead and going to the fence, where he takes his shirt off over his head. I find myself watching his every movement, enraptured by the way his muscles flex and move under his tanned, scarred skin, his torso hidden by one of his black sleeveless shirts, his shoulders bulging as he removes the fabric hiding them. Licking my lips at the sight, I forget to pay attention to the horse beneath me, yelping when it suddenly bucks upwards, the unexpected movement throwing me off the saddle a little, the animal quickly working to lose me completely. Getting my feet loose from the stirrups, I find myself thrown to the floor, dull pain exploding across my ribs as I land harshly, the impact winding me. Neighing, the stallion jumps into a more uncontrolled pace, seemingly having been spooked by something, leaving me lying in the dust as it moves off. 

"(Y/n)! Are you alright?" John calls out to me as he realises what's happened, the veteran swiftly moving to catch the fast-moving horse, grabbing it and calming it. Leading it back over, he hurriedly drops to the floor beside me, helping me sit upright as I press a hand to my ribs, groaning a little.

"Yeah, I'm good. Caught me by surprise." I wince, looking up at him, allowing him to help me up.

He looks me over, making sure I'm not seriously injured, before starting to consider something, a slight grin playing at his lips.

"What's funny?" I ask him curiously, dusting myself down.

"Hm? Oh, I just find it amusing that for a person who I've seen drive a car, motorcycle, tank, and fly planes and helicopters, as well as navigate boats, in all kinds of conditions, you've never mastered horse riding." He explains, chuckling slightly.

Pouting, I push his arm lightly, eyeing up the horse again.

"Yeah, well all those things are inanimate when they start, and I can fully control them. This creature has a mind of its own. Literally." I gesture to the horse, still slightly intimidated by the size of it.

"True." John hums, still smiling, "I've got an idea on how to help you."

"Oh?" 

"Yeah, come on." 

Going back to the horse, John motions for me to climb up again, helping me settle back into the saddle as I swallow down the slight fear in my throat. Trying to relax, I expect John to start adjusting my posture instantly, only to be very surprised when he suddenly appears behind me on the horse's back, perched lightly on the saddle, chest pressed flush to my back as his arms thread through mine, taking the reins in hand. My breath falters in my throat momentarily as he adjusts himself, his body moulding to mine to be more comfortable, his own breaths hot on my skin as he leans forwards slightly. Against my sides, I can feel every flex of his muscles, my heart stuttering from the sensation, meaning I nearly miss it as he takes my hands in his and holds the reins with them.

"Relax, (Y/n). The horse can sense if you're tense." John advises me, his rough voice resonating through me from this proximity. Somehow, this does help me to relax, and I feel myself go limper in his arms.

After a second, I feel John's thighs tense up as he gently taps his heels to the horse's sides, guiding the animal into a slow walk. His body moves in time with the horse, encouraging me to do the same, the action feeling much safer now that I can feel him help guide the animal. Swallowing, I try to ignore the feeling of his chest rubbing against my back, and the slight tickle from his long hair brushing over my shoulders. 

"See, you're getting the hang of it." John encourages me after a little while, his hands moving from mine to rest lightly on my thighs, leaving me to guide the horse around. Though the movement is casual, it sends goosebumps up through my body, my legs tensing slightly under his touch. He must've noticed it by now, but he seems to ignore it, instead helping me continue to ride.

I squeak in surprise when his lips suddenly make contact with my neck, the veteran leaving a very deliberate kiss just over my pulse point, his mouth lingering there as his hands slide up to grasp my waist. Nosing at the skin, he continues to press gentle kisses over the area, feeling my body relax under his hands, falling back into his chest as he continues his actions. Gently, he trails kisses down my neck to my shoulder, relishing in the small sounds of pleasure escaping me, my body yearning for more from him, years of craving his touch making me extremely vulnerable to his ministrations now.

"J-John…" I sigh, tilting my head to give him better access.

Beneath us, I can feel the horse getting antsy, the animal clearly aware that our attention is now split. John clearly feels it, too, as he takes the reins again and pulls the horse to a halt, reluctantly climbing down. Sighing from the loss of contact, I follow his lead, keeping my gaze downturned as he takes the horse out of the area we used for practice, trailing after him as he swiftly hands the creature back over to its owner, speaking quickly with them before he takes me behind the stable. 

Once there, he pushes me up against the wall, lips crashing into mine, his hands gripping my waist and pulling me into him, my own arms wrapping around his neck. Moaning into the kiss, I press closer to him, feeling safe in his arms as we move in time with each other, years of pent up emotion flooding across the connection. His scent, sweat mixed with the faint remains of incense from the temple, surrounds me, calming my racing heart at its familiarity, making me wish I could stay this close to him forever. 

Eventually, he pulls away, both of us needing air, his forehead pressing into mine, our breaths mingling with each other.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't wait any longer." He finally says, his dark eyes searching mine for a rejection.

"Don't apologise. I'm not sure how much longer I would've lasted, honestly." I admit, carding my fingers through his soft hair, enjoying the feeling of the messy strands under my touch. 

Smiling, John leans in and captures my lips again for a chaste kiss, before pulling back completely, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his side.

"Come on, let's go somewhere more private."

[pollyrepents]

where his tenderness resides | thomas shelby

Summary: To others it would seem Tommy’s love comes in the lavish gifts he gives, but the jewelry and clothing and horses mean nothing when you know he takes the care to feel his love.

Warnings: Nothing major. Reference to John’s fate, so a little bit of hurt. Or a lot a bit of hurt, that’s all dependent on you, really.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’m absolutely obsessed with the idea of Tommy’s romantic love language being touch and that he only really indulges in it when he knows they won’t been seen. It haunts me, truly. I have a whole tag dedicated to it on my blog. This got kind of sad without meaning to, but that’s just how I write. Enjoy!

He was always careful when he paid attention to you in front of others.

A polite hand on your lower back, guiding you away from unpleasant conversation or steering you into a needed one with potential donors or the wives of lucrative business partners, wanting small talk to take the place of touchy conversations and new business ventures you could strangle him for ruining your evening with. 

His attention was gentle and calloused at the same time, with his hands rubbing up and down your arm in a weak attempt at soothing as soon as you dragged him to a dark corridor for questioning.

“What happened to minimal business tonight?” You rose the glass in your gloved hand to sip your champagne, raising an eyebrow as he opened his mouth to speak, “You’ve snuck off twice and now I’m hearing from Polly there’s powerful people here?”

“Yes, there’s powerful people here for the charity-” His attempt to clarify made you click your tongue.

“There’s blinder business, Thomas.” You pursed your lips and he nodded once, unable to deny anything under your scrutinizing gaze. He focused himself on something outside, trying to pull enough words together to excuse himself from your discussion. “Why is there blinder business here, Tommy? At our charity event for ailing orphans?” You straightened up, eyes unwavering as you tried to meet his.

Tommy turned back to you and his icy blue eyes met yours. “They’re making sure you’re safe, is all.” He lifted a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin with a reserved gentleness despite the roughness of his skin. The tone was nothing other than truthful, steady as ever while he spoke. “I can’t have anything happen to you. Extra security for my peace of mind.”

“Or the dress.” You quipped, proving your point by turning your hips slightly to make the fabric swish. “I spent a long time picking this out as I wanted it to pair perfectly with the apology earrings you left me on the dresser.”

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling briefly at the mention of the new pearls, and you didn’t doubt he was pushing his tongue against his teeth as he gathered his words. “Alright. Not a mark on either of you. You or the fucking dress you picked out just for me, Y/N. ” 

“I didn’t pick out anything for you.” You pecked his lips briefly, smiling softly as he moved in for another, whispering between the two of you, “The dress is mine.”

“And what’s under the dress is mine, ay.” He had that tone to him, treading the line of authoritative only you got to hear behind closed doors, the kind that came with pushing his buttons. You felt a smile pass your lips before schooling your features, an imitation of the man who undoubtedly knew you best. You pushed a stray curl behind your ear as you looked him over.

“As long as you keep your minimal business to a minimum,” You tutted and straightened his bowtie, the careful knot your own doing while Tommy had made his initial promise in the sanctuary of your bedroom during the early evening hours. “what’s under the dress if yours.”

His hand was on your lower back again and you relaxed into the touch, a warm smile coming to your face as you examined his. The cold, determined Tommy melted away for a split second, the changes you had learned to savor coming forth easy to spot in the dark of the cold hall. The corner of his eyes pinched slightly, the corner of his lips turning upward for a brief moment. He tilted his chin down, pressing his lips to yours softly.

“Now,” You cleared your throat, gently pushing his hand off of your lower back in exchange for his arm. “Back to minimal business, Tommy.”

There were mornings when his lips never left your skin for more than a few moments, the both of you needing tangible assurance of someone’s love. Yours usually came in the middle of the night when you would tuck yourself against his twitching body, his limbs settling as he felt the pressure of you against his side, the smell of your soap and hair oils pushing through the clay and muck of the reimagined tunnels. Where the mumbling and quiet gasping would ease as you rubbed his chest and whispered to him that he was home, that he was safe, that he was with you in your bed. 

His came in the mornings, seeing through the teasing to assure you that although he was off to a dealing business meeting  or political business in London or factory business in the shit and smog of Small Heath in a moment, he would not stray for too long. His mornings were always early, always that sweet spot in time when you were too drowsy to put up a believable act in front of Tommy and would grumble an answer to any question he had without thinking twice as long as he stopped talking soon enough.

“Is there anything else, Mister Shelby?” The voice recognized as Frances’ was distant, the old woman’s voice more delicate than usual.

“That’ll be it, Frances, thank you.” His low voice came next and made you stir slightly, taking a deep breath and turning over to bury your face in his warmth that lingered on the blankets, begging for sleep to whisk you away again.

The door shut and a moment later the mattress dipped behind you, the smell of burning tobacco and aftershave enveloped your nearly sleeping form. Soft lips pressed against the back of your neck and you tried to remain still, breathing evenly as his lips trailed across your shoulder.

“You’re awake.” The words rumbled against your skin, soft lips moving against your neck as he kissed where he had marked in the earliest morning hours. 

“Mm-mm.” You hummed, pressing your face into the pillow. “Not yet.”

“Frances has brought you breakfast.”

“You made that woman get up before the sun rose?” You mumbled into the pillow, furrowing your eyebrows despite your act. 

“That is what I pay her for.” Tommy reminded. “The sun is up, dearest. Open your eyes, see it for yourself.” 

“Come back to bed, Thomas.” You verged on a whine, reaching a hand back to try and run your fingers through his hair. Your nose wrinkled at the lack of contact on your part as he slipped away. “It’s Sunday. Let Linda and Arthur go to church then handle the business. Just take a day, we can even take Charlie out for a picnic.”

Skillfully and typically he ignored your request for his leisure time. “I’m Thomas now?”  His fingers trailed down the curve of your back and you all but arched into his touch like a spoiled cat.

“You were Thomas last night.” You reminded as you rolled over to face him and stretched out on the mattress. His fingers trailed up and down your side lightly and you flinched away from the ticklish touch, grabbing his wrist in your hand. “Watch it, Thomas.”

The corners of his lips twitched upward and something resembling mischief sparked in his eye and you narrowed your own at him, challenging, “Do you think they’d miss you?”

“I think you would.” He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss between your eyebrows. “How would you explain yourself then, ay?”

“Thomas Shelby was taken care of,” He snorted at your wording as he crossed the room but you persisted anyway. “Thomas Shelby was handled after pushing his lover to the limit so early in the morning after waking her up so rudely.”

He moved to where he had Frances place the tray of food and lifted it, nodding for you to shift yourself among the sheets. You propped yourself up, holding a hand out to stop him as he reached your bedside. Tommy quirked an eyebrow.

“Only if you’re planning on staying.” You raised your eyebrows to mirror him. “If not, I’ll eat at the window. On my own.”

Tommy looked at you momentarily, the smoke from his cigarette swirling upward and around him as he examined you for any sign of relenting. He sighed and nodded, placing the tray over your legs and trying not to show any amusement at your triumphant smile as he came to the empty side of the bed. 

“Your meetings can wait for a bit, Tommy-don’t get into bed with the suit.” You cautioned. “It’ll wrinkle.”

He sighed, patience steady as he listened to you. “Am I expected to feed you the toast as well?” He unbuckled his belt and slipped his gray suit pants off, folding them and placing them on the end of the bed. “Is that what you need me here for?” He slid out of his waist coat, placing it atop his matching pants. His fingers made quick work of the tiny white buttons on his shirt, lying it over his other clothes.

“Well, if you’re offering, how could I say no.” You laughed lightly, bringing your legs up under you as he laid out next to you, leaning back against the headboard. You took a bite of buttered toast, holding the slice to Tommy’s lips as you chewed. His unamused look made you giggle and you pulled the cigarette from between his lips and moved the toast slightly closer still, prompting him to take a small bite.

“Good boy.” You patted his face lightly and ignored the scoff, leaning in to kiss him around the crumbs. “Can I expect you back before midnight?”

He nodded once, pulling another drag from the cigarette and blowing it upwards toward your painted ceiling. “I’ll try for a reasonable hour.” He muttered to himself, lifting his fingers to try to tuck away the fabric where your scarf had slipped from its knot during the night. “No idea how you keep this fucking thing on all the time.”

“Enough magic to give me a headache.” You batted at his fingers, unraveling the knot and letting your curls loose. You massaged your scalp, shaking out the tightened coils. “I’m sure I’m a real vision right now. Looking like I’ve been shocked by a wool touch or something.”

Tommy puffed smoke out through his nose, a hand reaching up to tug at the curls on the nape of your neck. Your shoulders relaxed at his touch “Not a bad sight so early in the morning.”

“If you’re softening me up with the affection and compliments so you can leave, it’s not going to work.” 

His hand fell to the spot where your shoulder met your neck and he pulled you down slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple, mumbling something along the lines of you being insatiable and a menace, but his nonetheless.

It was rare he let you hold him first.

He was mourning.

Different than Arthur, who was weeping aloud and different than Polly who rolled the rosary beads between her fingers more often those days. It was a different mourning, when his persistent mind stopped for a moment and his thoughts droned into white noise and the realization that John was gone-permanently gone, at the fault of his own greed and impulse washed over him the way the panic in the tunnels would. You found him hunched over on his bed in their Watery Lane home, shaking breaths making the hunch of his back rise and fall unsteadily. In the candlelight beside him you could make out his hands-your favorite hands- hands trembling as they gripped at his hair.

“Tommy,” You spoke up carefully, staring at him from the doorway. You reached behind you, closing the door in an attempt to shield him from a passerby’s view. “Tommy, you’ll hurt yourself.” You took slow and measured steps toward him, fearful of creaky floorboards that would alert the other nearby Shelbys, or knocking anything to the ground that would set him off. His trembling form made a knot in your throat tighten and you reached out your hand, startling when Tommy sprung up. Automatically, his hand reached under his pillow and his wet eyes found yours, his normally calm eyes flashing with something wild before he reconnected himself to the present moment.

“It’s just me, Tommy.” Your hand that had flown up to stop him arming himself dropped, cupping his stubbly chin. Your thumb caressed his jaw, trying to push away the tension for a moment. “Couldn’t find you after dinner, I got scared.”

He nodded, pulling away from your touch. He cleared his throat. “So many places to check in the house.”

“I thought you’d be out smoking or at the Garrison.” Your fingers sought out his hair where he had been pulling at it, rubbing your fingertips in soothing circles on his scalp. “Taking your mind off of things.”

“I can’t be drunk if we’re being hunted, Y/N.” His tone was dismissive and reached for his cigarettes and lighter on the bedside table.

“Everyone in the house is armed.” Your hands reached out to touch him again, blocked as he rolled his cigarette between his slightly swollen and raw lips. You assumed he had been biting them, one of his tells that things had bubbled up while he was alone. “We’ve all got guns under our pillows and in our pockets. Even Linda’s got one on her.”

“Fear convinces people better than simple words can.” He rested his elbow on his knee, hunching over. He smoked for a moment, long drags and lingering clouds of smoke swirled around the two of you. You stepped in front of him and reached down to take the cigarette, watching him closely as his fingers went limp. You placed it between your own lips, both hands coming up to cup the back of his head. You listened to his breathing, waiting until the stuttering breaths became fewer and farther between.

“He was your brother.” You traced your finger upward over the shell of his ear, lightly tracing the outline of his forehead. “He was a Shelby.”

“Yeah.” Tommy spoke into your nightdress, his eyes shutting as your finger came to brush against his lashes. “Yeah, I know he was.”

“So you know you can mourn him.”

The next breath was shaky and Tommy’s hands began to tremble again. You took your final drag and snubbed out the cigarette, letting it smoulder in his aged ashtray. 

He pressed his face into your stomach, hands pressing into your lower back as he sought refuge in your being. You tilted your head to the side, taking in his closed eyes and clenched jaw before he turned his head away from the flickering candle light.

“Mourn him, Thomas.” You whispered downwards at his hair, a hand coming up to rub his cheek. Your fingers met wetness just under his eyes and you ignored it, stroking his cheek with your thumb as Tommy held onto you for dear life. “It’s alright.”

His hand began to move against the material of your nightclothes, palms pressing more firmly than before. You settled yourself across his lap, one knee on either side of him on the edge of the bed. You gripped at his shirt, still smelling of the day’s whiskey he had taken and cigarettes he had found a way to take more of recently. His face tucked into your neck and you wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting his forearms squeeze you close around your lower back. He took breath after shaking breath against you, his fingers holding the fabric of your clothes in an iron grip. 

You held him, pressing your face into his hair as he held you as close as possible, hiding above the blankets in the flickering candle light.

[red-dead-daydreams]

You must be spammed with requests and it's just an idea, but how about the reader just kissing John/Sadie/Dutch/Arthur after they found out that they fancy the reader? 😳 And I love your work so much!

Hope you enjoy anon! 💜

John/Sadie/Dutch/Arthur and Reader Headcamons: Kissing them after you find out they fancy you

John

John doesn’t make it too obvious that he likes you, but you did always notice that his eyes lingered over you when you sat near him

Or how he’ll greet you with a smile on his face each morning when you two get coffee

You just thought maybe he was being friendly with you so you tried to push the thoughts of you two becoming a couple out of your head

But one day you overheard John and Mary-Beth chatting with each other. John was saying how frustrating it is that he can’t just tell you that he likes you romantically

You quickly rushed away from the area so they didn’t know you were there. You felt your heart flutter for a second when you rethought about what John said about you

Later that night you noticed him leaned against a tree sharpening his knife, and you thought it would be the perfect opportunity to express that you share the same feelings

You walked up to him and before he could greet you, you pressed your lips against his for a few seconds.

Once you pulled back from his lips you’ll smile at him and brush your thumb across his bottom lip.

“Maybe we should go out of camp a bit tomorrow, just the two of us”

He’ll smile and let out a small chuckle “Well I can’t refuse that offer”

Sadie

Sadie is pretty quiet when it comes to her feelings for you. She doesn’t want anyone to know, including you

The only reason is because she’s afraid of rejection. And plus, that would make things pretty awkward between you two and she doesn’t want to ruin the friendship you two share

She’ll do small things like let her touches linger when she pats your back or touches your arm

One night when you thought everyone was asleep, Sadie was still awake staring into the campfire

“Oh y/n, only in my silly fantasies we’re both happy together”

You decided to hang around the spot a bit longer since she didn’t notice you were there. But after a decent amount of time you went over to sit next to her

When she turns to the side to greet you, you turn and face her and lean in to kiss her. She’ll immediately you kiss back

You’ll pull away after a bit and share a smile with her. “You should of just told me you liked me, Sadie”

She’ll just huff slightly with a smile “I’m just glad you decided to kiss me to tell me you felt the same way”

Dutch

Dutch makes it as clear as day that he likes you. Or at least he thinks he’s making it obvious

He’ll always check up on you at least twice a day. He’ll walk up to you when you’re doing a chore or reading a book.

You use to think he was coming over to complain that you weren’t working, but he actually just wanted to talk with you. Especially if you’re reading, he likes hearing your take on things

At night when he plays his gramophone he’ll offer to dance with you. It’s hard to say no since he’s wonderful to dance with

He’ll also bluntly flirt with you when he dances with you and it always makes you blush

You were still a little confused about if he liked you or not. Maybe he was just flirtatious with all the other women in camp

But one night when he was reading in his tent, you’d ask to come in and he’ll invite you in

You stood next to him for a bit fiddling with your clothes until he looked up and asked what was wrong.

You looked down at him, deciding off the cuff to pull him into a kiss. And there’s a slight sound of delight from him when your lips meet his

“I’m glad I made it obvious enough for you to kiss me my dear”

Arthur

Arthur is extremely shy about his feelings for you. He thinks someone as lovely as you could never love him back

So instead of being more affectionate with you he’ll actually pull back a little. He’ll still talk to you and go out to do things with you, but he won’t be as social around camp

He hates how you make his heart beat faster when you’re close to him or how he easily gets lost in your eyes when you’re talking to him

He tries to push his feelings aside but he can’t help but have you linger on his mind

One day you were trying to find Arthur to give him something, and you spotted him sitting on a rock by the lake

You walked up behind him and notice that he was drawing a detailed portrait of the two of you

Your cheeks turned warm as you tapped his shoulder which made him jump slightly and close his journal

He moved himself on the rock to face you and ask what you needed

You’d stare at him for a bit before leaning in and kissing him. His hands would immediately gently hold your cheeks as he kissed you back

You broke the kiss after a bit and smiled at him, gently moving some hair from his face

“You know I like you too, right? What is there not to like?”

“I’m just glad you do darlin” and he’ll pull you into another gentle kiss