#rip mr darcy

[zuuriell]

when it takes 168 pages for a silly guy to express his feelings.. and bro gets rejected

[dearausten]

just saw a tweet that said “accidentally hurt someone’s feelings by being shy and aloof like mr. darcy” or something along those lines. this is why we’re in a recession

[evermorelore]

𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒋𝒖𝒅𝒈𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕…

[otterandterrierwrites]

For the numbers thing if you’re still looking:

59

3

37

14 Days of Scoundress 2024 ♥ February 14th

Foundation

Leia couldn’t have said when it had started; what look, or words, or gesture had commenced the shift in her heart—likely, it wasn’t any one thing or moment, but the compound of them all over time. Only that, right then and there, she knew. Or, at least, accepted it for a fact.

It had been much easier to ignore when they were fighting for their lives, when she was running a rebellion and he was pretending not to care. In the slow-passing days of their interlude towards Bespin, with few things and fewer beings to pass the time with, their deliberately sharpened edges smoothed against each other to a softness they were still learning what to do with. How much of it was allowed when everything was uncertain, and softness could bruise. Everything stood in sharp contrast—the way Han looked at her, held her, the actions that spoke louder than words. Those had been a constant for some time now, even when he believed it was hopeless and she thought it misguided.

And she—she observed herself as well, and in doing so, discovered that she wanted to make him feel as safe and comfortable as he did her. That she looked forward to sipping caf with him in the mornings and quipping about anything and everything in the evenings. That she revelled in the way he reacted to her touch, in the laughter she could draw out of him.That she wished for the chance to figure out whether there was permanency in it. Them.

She’d been dumped in the middle of a feeling she didn’t dare name yet but, for the first time, in that moment, Leia didn’t feel scared or worried. She felt strangely at peace with it.

Han straightened up, holding up the pair of new insoles for her boots that he’d fashioned out of gods knew what ancient scrap he’d found laying around the Falcon, after she’d mentioned that her feet had stopped aching since she’d started walking in socks most of the time.

‘There you go, sweetheart, you should try ‘em on.’

He held out his offering, and Leia put her hands over his, looking at his handiwork. She hadn’t even told him that her old insoles were falling apart. He’d figured it out, dug her boots out of the closet she’d shoved them in, and set to work.

Han bent over his work table again, picking up his tools and dusting off leather shavings. When he straightened up, she wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him down for a long kiss, hoping he could figure this out, too, what she couldn’t tell him with words.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered against his lips, the insoles clutched against her heart. ‘I like them a lot.’

******* Prompts:

59: out of love

3: “I liked that. A lot.”

37: [surprise] a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard

[umeinthemindpalace]

Let's talk Pride and Prejudice...

EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. TIME. I THINK ABOUT THE HAND FLEX THINGY I PUT MY HAND UP FLEXED AND START A SPEECH THAT GOES LIKE "now my hand holds the power to end world hunger and destroy the universe and build it back again, omg Lizzie ilysm marry me even though me *Mr Darcy* hath insulted thou in such deep ways, your family does INDEED sort of maybe suck BUT MARRY ME pls I love you"

[ghostmaggie]

not me investing all my pre nancy drew free time and emotions into binge reading a book and then just as obsessively immediately devoting all my attention to the sequel and THEN taking the time to notice that the sequel in question came out a whopping TWENTY SEVEN DAYS AGO and the next book (??? there must be another but I can't find an official announcement yet) will, based on precedent, not be out until next may 🥴🙃🥲

[twodiamondhoes]

I have fic to read. I have fic to write. I have books on my shelf that are calling to me.

But someone on the other blog reminded me that Illyana was approximately the only person who didn't want Kitty to marry Piotr and I've been activated like a fucking sleeper agent. I've been forcing myself not to reread XMG all day I feel like I'm unraveling at the seams.

[lothiriel84]

So, last night I finished watching Death Comes to Pemberley, googled the actor playing Darcy, and found out he was also in the final episode of Columbo - which, as it turns out, I had lined up to watch today as part of my weekend Columbo rewatch.

[dipperpepper77]

LADS as romance movies

Dipper's Delusions

Tags: Angst, death, romance, sappy shit. Spoilers for the movies

Xavier: The Time Traveler's Wife. I can see you falling in love with him. Both marrying and having a whole life. But, he keeps vanishing. Continuously in a lapse of going through time. Always having one end goal... come back to you. He travels to times where you were just a child, to the day of his funeral, your funeral, relived your wedding, saw your first heartbreak from a far. Everything. Every time he crashes his head on your lap. You always had your familiar gentle touch. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell you what awaits in your future together. He just wants to love you over and over again.

Rafayel: The Notebook. HEAR ME OUT. He is definitely one of the LADS men who will make themselves look stupid to impress you (literally the hospital visit). He would definitely jump up and dangle on a Ferris wheel to get you to say yes to a date. That being said... he IS sassy BUT he is also reliable and loving. He would write to you everyday. He WOULD build you a home with his two hands. Do not be fooled by the mask he wears. He would go to the ends of the earth for you. That's how he finds himself at the same retirement home as you (his choice. no one can tell him to leave). He reads your love story to you everyday until you remember him.

Zayne: Pride and Prejudice. (I was going to say Breakfast at Tiffany's but I see so much edits of him as Darcy) This man does scream Mr. Darcy though. He stays in shadows. Keeps himself busy. A man of honor and integrity. But, in times of him confessing his love... it comes out as a burst of emotion. He's always concealing (Elsa core) how he feels that when it's in the light... it's in the light. His usual stoicism is replaced by a tender husband once you marry. You WOULD have random nicknames he gets to call you for different occasions. He would only call you by the nickname he calls you when he's completely, perfectly, and incandescently happy. Because you are his joy.

(Before I start with Sylus... I'm sorry. You may shoot me if you'd like)

Sylus: Me Before You. Hear me out. In his lore he needed to die by your hands. What if in this life time... he was just meant to die? He's left bedridden after an accident. He was now a recluse (for obvious reasons). He didn't have a plan to live long. Not in his state. So when he met this witty person who wears funky outfits? He didn't expect to love you. To find these outfits endearing, to keep thinking 'one more day' every single morning in order to see you, to find himself having many good days. He's so in love with you. You were light. You were the air he wanted to keep breathing. Like a sunshine after the storm. His will to go 'one more day'. Of course, he's rich. So he spends that remainder on you. Buying things he heard you liked. His heart leapt every single time you squealed at his gifts. But... in the end. He still didn't want to live. He just wanted you to be able to live happily after him. Because... he was so fortunate to meet the love of his life.

Caleb: Big Fish (my fav movie). But, Edward Bloom is so Caleb coded. Imagine this... your child is SO frustrated with the "tale-tales" of his life. Like yeah dad.. you TOTALLY flew into a storm and saw god. But, he retells the way he met you. The love of his life... He see's you at the circus... he's awestruck. Who are you? Where are you from? He can NOT let it go. He's a dog with a bone. You ARE his wife, this was love at first sight. He settles a deal with the circus owner. Working hard labor and nearly dying. He doesn't even get paid... just paid in information about you. He goes to your college... you're so sweet... but, engaged. He does GRAND gestures of love. Your name in a heart written on the sky by a plane, a field of your favorite flowers, the works. So you marry him instead. He goes to war... but escapes. No way that man will EVER be ripped away from you once he's had you.

Dip Talk: HI I MISSED YOU ALL. I'M BACK

[pinksugarscrub]

My Punny Valentine

Jason Todd x fem! Reader

There's nothing better than movie nights with Jason but with Valentine's approaching, tonight is...a special occasion.

( @hyperfix-wip again, my beautiful apricot tart beta reader❣️)

Word count: 1,027

Warnings: cursing, sugar rush

~

The kitchen is…not necessarily in ruins. All of the ingredients have been responsibly returned to the pantry and fridge. It’s the bowls and whisks in the sink that are effectively killing the vibe of cute and demure.

Wiping away the sugar and flour from the counter you’re preparing a space for yourself and most importantly Jason.

Your lovable boyfriend is across the room. Flipping to the first movie on your list, Pride and Prejudice. Freshly showered and smelling like the expensive products you had gifted him on your anniversary.

When he returns to your side he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his nose into the crook of your neck. He smells even more amazing up close; it almost makes your head spin.

“Almost ready babe? Looks delicious.”

You snort, refraining from making a less than innocent comment as you nod. “The cakes are chilling in the fridge. Will you get them for me?”

Jason chuckles, planting a kiss on your temple. “Course princess.”

You swoon because no matter how many times Jason has talked to you so sweetly, he still manages to make you giddy. Shameless or not, he could be the judge of that, you follow him with your eyes. Admiring the loose shirt and wonder woman themed sweats he had chosen to wear.

Seeing him so relaxed was what you lived for. There’s only so much you understand about his work as Red Hood along with his family (who are lovely by the way). Just the two of you for the second night in a row is making you crave this domestic life every night.

“You gonna keep undressing me with those pretty eyes or are we gonna decorate these?”

Jason laughs as your face contorts into embarrassment. Both of his hands are occupied with small heart shaped cakes.

Occupying yourself with grabbing Jason an apron so you don’t have to answer, you promptly walk past him. He only laughs harder as he sets the cakes down.

Your apron is already caked with flour, batter, and icing. So you’re careful not to smear any on him when he ducks down so you can adjust his apron.

Your fingers trace down his neck to reach the strings at his waist when he stops you. He takes your momentary confusion as the opportunity to kiss your lips. Tasting the sugar you most definitely ate while you were making the frosting.

“What was that for?” You ask in a daze. Certainly not complaining but definitely not expecting to feel weak at the knees.

“Do I need a reason?”

“No,” you slowly grin, “I guess not.”

Jason returns your grin while tying his apron expertly.

A wheeze leaves your lips once you’ve noticed the lettering on his chest. You hadn’t realized you had grabbed that one.

“What? Oh no,” he groans. Rolling his eyes at the ridiculous gift Dick had gotten him.

“No no!” You exclaim while putting your hands on his chest when he prepares to rip it off. Struggling to breathe through your words. “It’s fine Jace. Really.”

“Fine my ass.”

“Yes it is.”

“...not now babe.”

Raising your hands in mock defeat you walk over to the counter. Wiping away the tears that had collected in the corner of your eye. “Alright, alright. Cake first.”

Jason sighs but keeps the gag worthy, burn-it-in-a-sewer thing on. “And Austen.”

“You mean Keira Knightley,” you correct.

“She is pretty attractive.”

“Right!? I don’t know about Mr. Darcy though…couldn’t they have picked I don’t know-”

“So you know Elizabeth’s actress but not Darcy’s?” Jason raises a brow. Bumping your hip with his as he slides comfortably beside you.

“It’s Keira Knightly!” You protest. Reaching for a piping bag of red icing to hand to him.

“Name one other movie she’s been in.”

You open your mouth but your mind has drawn a blank. After a moment of silence you finally speak up. “I don’t like this game anymore.”

“It wasn’t a game to begin with sweetheart.”

Sticking your tongue out childishly you reach for your own bag of icing. “Ok ok, ready?”

Jason hums as he smiles. “Teach away.”

Sure, Jason is proficient in the kitchen.

If he really wanted to, he could figure out the intricacies of cake decorating. But when you brought the idea of having a Jane Austen themed movie night, especially so close to Valentine’s day, he couldn’t say no. When did he ever say no to spending time with you when he was finally off patrol?

Jason knows how hard it is. While he’s gaining bruises you’re here, in your apartment, worried. He’s also quite sure that despite the brave face you put on, you've missed him. Especially in these last few months.

Rejoining his family has created caseload after caseload and awkward meetings with Bruce (Which you graciously listen to him rant about when he comes home to you).

Oh you were perfect.

Put up with his shit and took care of him when he couldn’t do it himself. He never was one to think he’d take on a partner. Dating “coworkers” was too hectic and his life wasn’t anywhere near normal but you made it easy. You added to his life.

As you started explaining the different borders you could create with a variety of star tips he leans in closer. Letting you take his hand and slowly squeeze the piping bag together to show him the consistency.

There were times where he purposefully kissed along your shoulder when you were explaining. It was his absolute favorite thing to do. Watch you squirm and try to focus.

The movie played quietly in the background and rain soon accompanied it. That was another thing.

Rain didn’t make him feel gloomy anymore. Instead his memories were filled with you. Curled up with a book. In his lap as you switched between reading for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy while the rain came down.

By the time you’re both finished there are several puns iced along your cake and frosting on both of your noses.

Overall the night was perfect and yes, Jason accepted your request of being your punny valentine.

-

Taglist: @insideoutjulie

[kinaaaard]

Tommy looks at Evan in his bed and thinks of Mr. Darcy. Thinks of period pieces. Thinks of Love, Actually. 

If you were to glance him in a grocery line or catch his profile in traffic, it wasn’t a surface-level judgment anyone in sane society would ever make: this guy loves a bleeding-heart romance. It was a left-of-field, out-of-pocket fact of himself that felt like less of a secret and more of the thing tacked on by the producers of romance reality TV — this guy’s too unapproachable, let’s give him some charm. 

Guys like Tommy (broad, blue collar, a wealth of oppression and military repression) were rare to even exist within the genre unless you delved into the more harlequin novel bodice-ripping romance of it all. And maybe that’s why he liked them. 

They allowed easy oxycontin. He liked when people miscommunicated for the sake of the narrative, only to end up falling into bed by the end. He liked how declarations were made about the other’s faults, and that they blearily choked out, and despite it all, I still love you! He liked how often the romances brought together opposite people under unlikely circumstances, and how fate wrapped them up in a neat little bow. 

Most of all, he liked how far away they felt. How untouchable. To him, streetlamp-yellow kisses under soft falling snow felt as plausible as dragons and space operas. 

His other interests felt imbedded in his person. Muy Thai, engines, those were par for the course. The expected things he would readily wear on his sleeve. A man like him, into romcoms, on the other hand? It was something that seemingly only existed in the grey matter of his brain. A secret. A gentle smile from a barrel-chested man didn’t necessarily betray this penchant for treacly, cinematic love. He didn’t pretend that it did, and certainly not with the men he dated in the past. He never wanted to jar previous boyfriends with the disconnect, never wanted to shatter the veneer of masculinity. That felt dangerous. That felt vulnerable. 

But he looks down at Evan in his bed. 

His face is slack and easy with sleep, half-pushed into the pillow. Pale morning light swallows the room, gilding the corkscrew turns of his curls. Burnishes them as they rest against his forehead, the skin smooth and unbothered. Tommy’s eyes linger on the soft bed of hair, hands tingling with memory of how they feel between his fingers — not unlike Mr. Darcy’s hand after holding Lizzy Bennet’s — before trailing down to the slopes of his eyes, his lashes. They rest undisturbed on his cheeks as Evan’s body takes deep, beautiful breaths of air. He almost mourns the view of Evan’s cornflower blue eyes. Then the slope of his nose, prominent and round, before dipping to the petal-soft plush of his lips. Pink like early, early dawn. 

He can’t help it. He plants his hand on the curve of Evan’s stubbled jaw and cups, thumb brushing against the soft thistle. Romcoms don’t feel so far away, anymore. Don’t feel like a contrary fact or a rare allergy or a study of ancient mythology. It feels close, nestled in his chest. Just looking at Evan is easy oxycontin. 

Evan starts to rustle, brows knitting. His face turns a bit but Tommy keeps his hand steady. Tommy thinks, I’ll make him coffee soon, just the way he likes it. 

Tommy thinks of the Mr. Darcy’s deep, anguished yearning. How it culminates into warmth at the end. Thinks of how he kisses her on the nose, on the forehead, and the cradle of love seen before the credits. 

He looks at Evan and wonders if he’ll ever watch a romcom again. He doesn’t need to, really. 

[zombyaru]

share tankie headcanons plzz

MMMMMMMMMMMM I want you to know that you just summoned a monster

TW: ABLEISM

Gay and autistic, OF COURSE HE WAS.

He was diagnosed at an early age (maybe 3 or 4 years old?), mainly because of his problems socializing with other children and because he was not yet talking (among other things, of course).

← Lyla began to worry and insisted to Buzz that they get help. Buzz, being Buzz, thought it was Lyla's fault for "spoiling him too much" among other crap. It wasn't until a teacher insisted that they take him to a psychologist that Buzz agreed.

← Since then, Buzz has been OBSESSED with "correcting" his behavior. He would not allow his other children to be diagnosed. (They are all autistic and/or neurodivergent in general, including Buzz himself, but he would never admit it).

← Tank probably doesn't even know he's autistic. Buzz took it upon himself to hide it.

His love for ballet comes from his own mother (inspired by another post).

A theater-loving boy. Always sought to be the lead actor in school plays (he didn't make it).

He loves period pieces. BRO WANTS to be the Elizabeth Bennet of a Mr. Darcy.

Born to be a pink boy, forced to be a green boy 💔

← (he also likes green, but not military green).

Loves trash tv.

He is not very popular at school (and if he is, not for good reasons). People often talk to him or do group work with him because of his good grades, but no one wants to be friends with him because of his temper.

When he meet someone new, he desperately try to make them see that 'it's not as bad as they say'. Generating just the opposite.

← (TECHNICALLY this is canon. In his gba version he says exactly the same thing to the player when meets him)

His father instructed him in 'good music' (music that Buzz himself likes, of course). BUUUUUUUUUUT he's a pop boy.

← Probably loves Lady Gaga.

Technically this is canon x2 Collect maps.

He is ashamed of his first name because it is probably too cute and ridiculous. (I LIVE FOR THEODORE TANK GRUNT)

He has muscles but no strength (0 points 🥺💔).

Cannot ride a bike (me).

RIP Tank grunt, definitely would have loved AO3.

Johnny was his first gay panic. That's why it bothers him so much, because he was never able to face his father and be honest with his own feelings. It was a hatred of himself that he reflected on Johnny. Johnny was probably interested in him too, but Tank never apologized (during his teenage years), and anyway he already had Ophelia, whom he loved and, well, she does treat him well.

He always knew he was gay. But he always felt guilty about it.

I don't think Buzz has inflicted religious guilt on him or anything, but he's definitely overtly homophobic against him (and Ripp).

Buzz got him into the military to keep him from being gay and effeminate (because of course putting your son with a bunch of muscular men won't make him gay). Plus he's the older brother, he's bound to suffer with the burden of carrying on his father's legacy whether he likes it or not.

he would often sneak his mother's makeup. Buzz always found out.

Buzz gave up on that topic because Tank just wouldn't stop doing it. So he decided to teach him military camouflage. And, well, it worked. Tank doesn't quite like it but it's a good excuse to get some makeup on his face.

← He also won't call it makeup anyway. It's "sophisticated military camouflage" and he'll get mad at anyone who denies it. It's the only way he doesn't feel guilty for doing it every day.

Maybe a cat guy, I haven't decided yet (Maybe smaller animals? He grew up with fishes anyway)

It is the only one that does most of the cleaning. Ripp is too lazy and Buck is too little (although he is the neatest of them all).

WELL, THAT'S ALL FOR TODAY. I HAVE 4% HEHEJEHE :333

[cleolinda]

Weekend links: April 6, 2025

My posts

I'm STILL working on the fourth video writeups for our Silent Hill 2 project, and I am a bit frustrated that life is getting in the way. 

(OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAVITY AND FRAUDULENT BANK CHARGES)

Anyway (ANYWAY?!) Ian's fourth stream is up. HE HAS SEEN WHAT I RECORDED AND ANSWERS MY QUESTIONS I SWEAR IT'S REAL. 

Reblogs of interest

If you'd like to help the survivors of the Myanmar and Thailand earthquake, World Central Kitchen and MSF/Doctors Without Borders are on the ground.

Val Kilmer passed away earlier this week.

"babe are you ok you reblogged 'it's coming back but we'll see it through' again"

The Buffalo Nations Grasslands Alliance is raising money to save black-footed ferrets on tribal grounds, after the current administration froze conservation funds.

RIP Stumpy the cherry tree, who will live on through his cuttings in D.C.

James Baldwin: "Love will simply have no choice but to go into battle with space and time and, furthermore, to win." 

"You lead a very interesting life"

Don't take the easy way out with AI: "Imagine what you can do if you learn to bullshit like I can bullshit"

The Sad Bastard Cookbook, a free e-book for your low spoons

"Put baby in pelican mouth for Instagram photo. Facebook photo of baby in pelican mouth for many likes"

How Many Cigarettes are in any given movie?

In defense of Mr. Darcy's proposal

Going snail mode

A hungry axolotl: "Fuckibg superb you funky little kirby"

Grip, snacking at my chamber door

"More actual things that happen in the 1897 Dracula novel without context"

A recommendation for A Dictionary of Color Combinations

Like I knew Ariana Grande had been up to some shit but I wasn't ready for this

Love a perfume review that says "Nothing wrong with a bit of fear"

"It’s a misconception that the mimics are hunting humans when they trail along at the back of hiking groups"

"But hey, there’s nothing wrong with having a completely absurd contingency plan. In case of time loops."

Video

Wet Beast Wednesday: Pitiful cranky baby otter sounds

Star Wars was not worthy of Amandla Stenberg and her violin (bring back The Acolyte if you want to prove me wrong)

Yes, Rick Astley has more songs

Hybrid Calisthenics: "Being on the right path often FEELS better and more natural - even if it’s more work."

Is this cat a goalie, technically?

"Sexy Nation Army," a mashup (only technically "video")

The sacred texts

"for april fools we’re deleting this entire site sayonara you weeaboo shits"

"when will mcr return from the war"

Personal tags of the week

1) Art, which had some real bangers this week, including Remedios Varo, Mexican Gothic, Diane & Leo Dillon, a genuine Hokusai print found at an antique market, a wee Eohippus, something that doesn't listen, AND MORE;

2) Honestly birds had some good ones as well;

3) One orange braincell had two good ones, including a painting of a cat about town;

4) and U.S. politics, since there were some good things:

First, Senator Cory Booker gave a marathon speech for more than 25 hours, reading from "multiple three-ring binders, including articles from bipartisan sources and letters from his constituents, in what he called 'terrified people' with 'heartbreaking' stories" in protest of the current administration, and breaking Strom Thurmond's filibuster record (which "itself was a last ditch attempt to block the Civil Rights Act"). And it was not just a filibuster; it was representation.

Meanwhile, April 5 had “Hands Off” demonstrations across all 50 states, "targeting threats to democracy, bodily autonomy, and climate justice." Here's how the St. Paul, MN, protest went (direct link for the tags).

[bennetsbonnet]

Finally started reading this and the writing style is attempting to be a 1:1 imitation of Austen (complete with a truth universally acknowledged opening...) which personally irks me.

Not very impressed so far... the main plot point is Mrs Bennet masterminding a scheme to reunite all the sisters at Pemberley for Christmas(?!) Elizabeth is an insecure wreck who can't conceive, while Darcy broods rather than comforts her.

They've just taken a trip to Darcy's property(?!) in Yorkshire and it's all gotten a bit Brontësque with wild moors and mysterious figures...

Found another Pride and Prejudice sequel in a charity shop today. This one has high praise indeed on the blurb! Slightly sceptical of some of it but should be an interesting read...

[yandere-sins]

Keep talking like that and I might just be inside your walls bugaboo

but fr, i hc this man to. how do i explain it. he will destroy everything for you and you'd never know. he pines like mr darcy from pride and prejudice. show him even an ounce of kindness and he's so done. you can't do shit, he is yours forever now. you have a better shot of beating stage 4 cancer than getting rid of him!

And I will keep talking like that about your wonderful ideas, you can stay for dinner if you come to haunt me! ♥

I just... what if we give him like a really meaningless, small flower and he just keeps it forever, obsessively making sure it doesn't break even when it's dried and getting so furious if anyone accidentally rips out a petal. And he really hates himself but he'd rather die than lose that damn flower 👉👈

Or we are just going out for some late night groceries, but of course he's right there behind us, scary dog privilege, and when we get confused about why people are so scared and turn around he's just... gone. And we'll never be any the wiser but we got some free stuff so... lucky day!

Anyway, he's just such a good unit and my mind goes bzzzzz whenever I play him! Can't wait for his companion quest or uh... I guess for him to show up at some point of the story? XD Can't believe we really haven't gotten that many characters officially even though they are already playable lol.

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (part six)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Guys I cannot stress this enough, there is SMUT in this chapter. There is also dubious consent because of alcohol, as well as dark!Johnny being dark. He's not a good guy in this story and he's not all the way human, so his morals are WAY off--also I don't write smut very often so pls tell me if it was bad.

A bottle of wine later and you were feeling much better about the situation. After all, you weren’t sure you even wanted to kiss Charlie–he dressed like a frumpy old man and had weekly dinners with his grandmother. 

Before he was a slag, those qualities were endearing, like a stray dog with an ear flopped over. Now, they were just…unappetizing.

Not like Johnny, ridiculous mohawk or no. 

You uncorked another bottle of the expensive wine Tom had gotten you for Christmas and poured yourself another hefty glass, Pride and Prejudice 2005 keeping you company on the telly. 

It was nine o’clock. You texted Tom to make sure he had Emma in bed, just a touch too tipsy to see the keys properly.

Yes, she’s asleep, are you drunk??

You smiled to yourself. No.

Did you get stood up again?

You sniffled. Fuck off. 

You forced yourself away from the phone, focusing back on Mr. Darcy and the infamous hand scene. 

You found yourself thinking about Johnny again. The first time he kissed you was a little fuzzy, but you could remember the hand gripping your chin, the fingers digging into your skin. 

It had been like he had wanted to devour you, and you were just happy to be devoured. 

It was half-way through the glass when a knock came to the door.

It was probably Charlie, with his tail between his legs. You sighed, pausing the telly as you wobbled to your feet.

“What?” You snapped, ripping the door open.

“Nice pajamas, kitty.”

Johnny stood on your doorstep once again, carrying a takeout box that smelled suspiciously like your favorite pizza and garlic knots. He smiled, so blue-eyed and pretty it physically made you want to cry.

“What do you want?” You sighed, steadying yourself against the wall. “Can’t a girl wallow in peace?” “Ah, did I interrupt a pity party, kitty?” Johnny teased, inviting himself in. “Perfect. I brought ye dinner.”

“Johnny,” you said, your voice pitching close to a whine. 

He stilled, looking at you. His hand came up, pinching your chin like he used to. “You havnae called me Johnny in a very long time.” The rawness of his voice broke you down into someone you used to be, someone that loved him. You leaned into the warmth of his palm, unable to stop yourself. “You were gone, Johnny. I missed you.” Johnny’s fingers tightened on your jaw, his mouth twisting to the side. His eyes flickered to the table, where the empty bottle sat. “You’re shit-faced, kitty.” You nodded, his thumb sliding up to brush against your bottom lip. “M’a light weight now. Motherhood means bein’ responsible, and no drinkin’.” “It looks good on ye,” Johnny said, finally dropping his hand.

“What, the alcohol?”

“Bein’ a mother. I used to think about it sometimes, what you were doing–if you were with anyone, if you had any pups yet.” Johnny turned, busying himself with the pizza. “When they let me reach out to Tom, I think the first words out me mouth were about you.” That surprised you. “He never told me about that.” “Mmm,” Johnny rumbled. “He’s a good brother. He told me you were happy, and that you weren’t alone. That was it, no matter how much I asked.” He put a slice on a plate and gave it to you. “Now sit, kitty. I need you to sober up a bit.” You obeyed, taking a bite as you sat before him. “I stopped trying to find you after her third birthday. I just figured that you would be better off not knowing, you know, I could finally move on.” The alcohol had dampened the anger in your chest, you felt…open. Open to talking about it. Bleeding the poison from the wound.

Johnny slid a hand into his pocket, pulling out a very worn, very tattered picture of-

You. It was you six years ago, Johnny’s arm around your shoulder as you laughed.“Carried it w’me all over the world, kitty.” That contradicted everything. “But why? You don’t…” you trailed off, the wine haze falling away with your shock. 

“Why do you think I left, lass?” Johnny asked, his eyes reflecting the glare of the dim kitchen lights. “Did you ever ask yourself why the fuck I didn’t call you or why I never responded to your letters?” This was confusing. You frowned. “Of course I did. I just figured you…you grew out of me. You found your family with people more like you.” Johnny reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of papers, neatly gathered by a rubber band. 

They were letters. Your letters, the ones you had sent when he left the first time, the pages yellowed and crumpled with use, as if they were read often. 

“I kept ‘em, every last one,” Johnny trailed a hand over the paper, gently as if they were something precious. “Does it look like I forgot you?” “Sure felt like it,” you said, but the venom was gone. 

“Some of them still smelled like you. The lads  thought I’d lost me mind, reading the same fucking letters every night after missions.”

“Johnny,” you said. “Johnny this doesn’t make any sense, I thought…I thought you came for Emma.” “I dinnae know she even existed, kitty, I thought I was doing the right thing, staying a world away from you.” “But why? You-you broke my heart, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me or Tommy.” Within a blink, Johnny was kneeling before you, his hands on your knees as his eyes bored into yours. You felt a chill, a whisper of fight or flight pricking your neck at his predatory stare.

“It wasn’t right, what I felt for the little girl I taught how to ride a bike, kitty,” he whispered. “I left because you were sixteen and I shouldn't have been thinking the things I was thinking. It’s different for wolves, see, we…we know when someone is right for us, we can smell it, and it’s hard to fight instinct, kitty, it’s who we are.” “But I loved you enough to think about your future. I wanted you to have a life without me standin’ over your shoulder, I wanted to give you time to choose what you wanted.” “I wanted you,” you said honestly, reeling from his words. “I know, kitty, but that didn’t make it right. I came back a few years later thinkin’ maybe things would be different, that maybe I could control myself but…I couldn’t stand bein’ in a fuckin’ room with you. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, so I signed for another contract, this one different from the others. They would take me away from you, and in return I could hunt, I could be me, the real me, for the first time in me life–because if I was myself around you, you wouldn’t like it very much, bonnie.” He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deep. “Then suddenly you were there, the night before I was s’posed to leave, and you were fuckin’ sloshed and gorgeous and everything I couldn’t have.” You remembered that night fuzzily. It hadn’t taken much, just a smile pointed his way and your clumsy kiss on his cheek then suddenly he was pulling you away from the bar, shoving his tongue down your throat in the dark back alley. He had tasted like beer and whiskey and Johnny. You had never wanted him more.

Your eyes welled up. You looked away, blinking furiously. “Johnny,” you sighed. “I can’t. I spent six years being so unbelievably hurt, you can’t fix it in a night.” He kissed your jaw, teeth scraping against your skin. “I know, kitty, I’ll spent the rest of our fuckin’ life making it right. Everything I ever wanted with you happened while I wasn’t here, I’ll never let you go now.” You tried to push him away, but Johnny was a big lad, his hands sliding to your hips to clutch you closer. He licked away the tears on your cheek with a hum, just like Emma always tried to do. 

“I’m not yours,” you said, your voice holding zero conviction. “You left.”

But Johnny wasn’t paying attention, his face in your hair. “You smell like the mother of my baby, ” he said roughly, inhaling. “When Tom told me you were with someone two years ago, I lost control for the first time in a fucking decade. Bit a head off or two, imaginin’ they were him, this bastard you allowed in my place.” His teeth nipped at your collar, already longer and sharper than they had been a moment before. 

“John,” you said, pushing at his chest. “What are you doing?”

Johnny pulled away, his eyes sparkling. “C’mon, kitty cat, we both know how pent-up ya are,” he went in for a kiss but you turned your head, his mouth landing on your chin. It didn’t stop him though, his tongue laving a line from your chin to the corner of your mouth. “Please, kitty, lemme help,” Johnny panted, his breath hot and sticky against your skin. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You had forgotten how gross he was sometimes, how he liked to lick and bite, even when you play-fought as kids. It turned you on more than anything, white-hot liquid pooling in your belly as the musky taste of his hormones filled the air.

You let him kiss you. Johnny made a noise, a mix between a growl and a whine as he got to work ruining your mouth. It wasn’t a good kiss–but it was so Johnny, messy and wild and slightly painful, his teeth catching on your bottom lip just so he could lick the pinpricks of blood away. 

“Missed ya, kitty cat,” he said, forcing you to look in his eyes while he swiped his tongue back into your throat. “All I had was a picture and letters, but I could get off just from you writing that you missed me, just from your smell lingering on the fucking paper.” You made a surprised noise in the back of your throat, the wine causing you to shift in your seat, feeling the heat of your arousal soak through your underwear.

Johnny inhaled deeply, shoving his head between your legs before you could pull away. He bit you through your pajama pants playfully, his teeth digging into the soft meat of your thigh. 

You yelped and he laughed, a harsh, gritty noise that made you shiver. “Johnny,” you whined, pushing at his head. 

“Johnny,” he mimicked, grinning as he nipped at your fingers. The glint in his eye reminded you of simpler days, when he was just lazy-eyed Johnny that made you laugh. 

“This is such a bad idea,” you said weakly. Your head was spinning, dizzy with alcohol and desire.

“You can hate me tomorrow, bonnie,” he said fondly, kissing your knee as he slid your pajama pants down your hips. 

And you allowed it. You let him shuck your pants, you let him paste sticky kisses to your underwear line, his penchant for dirty talk that you barely remembered coming in full swing as he swiped a callused finger through your slick.

“My poor girl,” Johnny cooed, sinking his teeth into your thigh as if to control himself. “I tried to be good, kitty, I tried so, so fuckin’ hard–I was gonnae take my time, win ya over, wait until you were fuckin’ gaggin’ for it, but I’m just  not that man anymore.” You slid your hand through his hair, just like you used to, that old love squeezing your heart so hard you thought it might burst. It was soft and thick, your nails scraping against his scalp. 

The simple act of affection pushed him over the edge. He had his mouth on you in an instant, the lacy edges of your underwear drifting to the floor in shreds. 

Your whine was caught in your throat when Johnny gripped your hips with sharpened nails, dragging you closer to himself with a ripple of power.

Johnny didn’t look like Johnny anymore. The humor drained from his gaze as he looked up at you, the blue sharpening into something cruel, something like a killer.

Something like a wolf. 

You looked away as he licked a line from back to front, pleasure shuddering up your spine. God it had been so long-

“Oh, no, bonnie,” Johnny panted, the sharp drag of his nails painful against your hips. “Eyes down here. Don’t ever fuckin’ look away.” His hand grabbed your chin, pulling your attention back to him. “Watch,” he said, his tone deadly soft. 

Johnny had always known how to embarrass you, how to make you squirm. He licked and sucked, dipping his tongue inside of you just to tease, just to make you yelp and blush. 

It felt like hours. You would make a soft noise and he would slide another finger inside of you just to make you squeal, the stretch making your jaw drop. 

“She’s cryin’ for it, eh, kitty?” Johnny whispered, flexing his hand. “She was fuckin’ waiting for me.” You come embarrassingly quick, gripping his hair and squirming as you cream into his mouth. He continues licking you far past the trembling aftershocks, cleaning up his mess like a good dog.

“Too much, too much,” you hissed, wriggling away from his needful mouth. 

Johnny fucking laughed at you, his mouth slick and his eyes so hazy he looked as drunk as you felt. “I’ve been thinkin’ about the way ya taste for so long I thought I dreamed it.” He looked younger for a moment, the scars disappearing, the stray gray hairs in his mohawk fading to brown. Suddenly, you couldn’t stand to look at him, the heat cooling on your skin. 

“Johnny,” you said, choking on your words. You couldn’t help the tears pricking your eyes, a stray tear falling down your cheek. 

“Shh, bonnie,” Johnny brought you in his arms, guiding your head into the space between his shoulder and neck with his wide palm. “You’re all tuckered out, hmm? I’m sorry, kitty, I didn’t mean ta push you so far…” He whispered in your ear while he carried you to bed, his accent twisting and turning the words into Scottish gibberish. You nodded sleepily against his shoulder, already half-convincing yourself that this was a dream as he tucked you in bed like a little girl.

“Night, bonnie,” Johnny whispered, pressing a scratchy kiss to your forehead. 

You mumbled something incoherent, tucking your pillow over your head.