#top gun tuesday

[peachesandcreames]

Decisions, Decisions 🥵🔥

[torchflies]

Hi TG Fandom!

So this AU came to me in a dream and I woke up with actual tears so — here we go. 

In the deepest chunks of my cold, dead heart, I believe that even if Ice married Sarah, he still always loved Mav. There were just so many reasons why they couldn't work out long-term: Ice wanted to advance, Mav didn't want to hold him back, the danger of being a gay couple in the ‘80s and ‘90s — let alone in the Navy. 

It just couldn't work out for them. They were trying to protect each other and that meant sacrifices on both ends.

But it doesn't mean they ever stopped loving each other, Ice’s love was shown in saving Mav’s ass time after time, and Mav’s was in being there — always, no matter what Ice needed. 

Mav was there when all three of Ice’s kids were born, his two daughters and his youngest: Tom Kazansky Jr. 

Junior, who only looks more like his namesake with every year that passes. 

Eventually Mav gets shipped to China Lake so he doesn't have to get a front-row seat to Ice dying right in front of them (Ice’s decision of course).

The Mission rolls around, and lo and behold: a Tom Kazansky will always appear to Mav in his time of need. 

But instead of a text — it’s in the form of Junior, a vision of 27-year-old Tom Kazansky, complete with moles and his big ass teeth. 

“Apparently, we’ve got a mission, Maverick.”

Imagine the complete agony of a world where Mav never gets to have the life he deserves with the man he loves, and not only that, but he's surrounded by the living specters of the two men he loved most and lost. 

A world in which he gets to keep a piece of Goose and Ice, but only as a reminder that the Bradshaw and Kazansky on his wings will never be the ones he wants.

Or the flip side, where Mav is the only piece of their fathers that both boys have left and there gets to be a Kazansky-Bradshaw-Mitchell trio in the sky again.

Just me? Okay 😭

(Ice sent Junior out as a Dagger with a promise to: Be His Wingman. Both of them knowing he wasn't going to be there when Junior got back.)

[horseshoegirl]

Dragon Age: Grey Warden!Jake Seresin

Since when do I do Moodboards and blurbs? 😂

Dragon Age Veilguard came out a little while ago. I'm a little heartbroken (see tags) and needed a distraction. This is what came out of it, and I wanted to share it. Dragon Age is my comfort and home; I think it needed this. I might share more of the ones that I've created...

The distant roar of the archdemon ripped through the battlefield, a chilling sound that pressed against your chest like a weight you couldn’t bear. The dragon had already killed more than Grey Wardens; if nobody stopped it now, it would devastate the rest of Thedas.

Jake stood in front of you, his blade slick with blood and his eyes burning with determination. The truth of the moment hung between you—one of you had to die, and you both knew it.

“You know it has to be me,” Jake said, his voice steady despite the cracks forming in his resolve. His gaze locked on yours, softer than it had any right to be in a moment like this. “This is what we signed up for. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death…” His voice faltered for the first time, and his hand gripped yours tightly. “In death, sacrifice.”

You shook your head, the tears burning at the edges of your eyes. “Don’t you dare use our motto against me, Jake. That doesn’t mean you get to decide this.” You stepped closer, the desperation in your voice cutting through the chaos of the battlefield. Through clinging swords and knives and blasts of magic. “We fight together. We’ve always fought together.”

His lips quirked in a bitter smile, even as his eyes glistened with something too raw to name. “We do, sweetheart. But if I can make sure you live through this, then it’s worth it. I’d give everything for you, and this…” He gestured toward the archdemon, its roar shaking the very ground beneath you. “This is my everything. My last stand.”

You grabbed his arm, refusing to let go, your grip as fierce as the fire in your chest. “Don’t you get it? You’re my everything. If you do this, you leave me behind. You leave us behind!”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the battlefield around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you and the impossible choice between love and duty. “In death, sacrifice,” he repeated, quieter now, almost to himself. He brought your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss there as his voice trembled. “I can’t let you go in my place. You’re the reason I kept fighting. The reason I’ll keep fighting—until the very end.”

“Jake—” you started, but his free hand cupped your cheek, his calloused fingers warm against your skin. His forehead rested against yours, a fleeting moment of tenderness stolen from the storm raging around you.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he pulled back, his hand slipping from yours. “And because I love you, I have to do this.”

Before you could stop him, he turned, charging toward the archdemon with a final glance back, his eyes filled with fierce devotion and the heartbreaking certainty of his choice. As his figure disappeared into the chaos, the words lingered like a wound in your heart, tying you to him forever: “In war, Victory."

Except there was no peace. Just....

"In death, sacrifice.”

[topgun1986wasthebest]

I wish I could see him Play Uncle Jesse On Full House

[fangirling-tussisque-noncaelatur]

Cyclone: It’s been such a long week. It feels like forever.

Maverick: It’s only Tuesday, sir.

Cyclone: …

Maverick: …

Cyclone: Why is it still Tuesday?

[babygirllinds]

Can we please see a sneak peek of the babysitter? I’m a sucker for this particular trope 🙈

Hello lovely 🥰 I’m also a sucker for this trope and I’d love to provide! Thank you for this request! I really want to work at getting this one out soon since I love it sm! No smut yet, but I still hope you enjoy this little snippet 💗

warning: age gap/power dynamics. If that isn’t your jam, just skip on over this post :)

“You’re really good with them, ya’know?”

Pete’s mouth drops open slightly, “Thank you, Sir?”

“No, really. I know Sarah rants about you being a lifesaver, but I didn’t realize how much they had taken to you,” the man shakes his head and a slight smirk graces his plump lips. “I must admit I was slightly jealous when I walked in and my kids stayed glued to your side. You’re a real natural at this and what? You're only 21?”

“22, actually, Sir,” Pete corrects. “I, um– I just have a way with kids, I guess? I was always stuck taking care of my younger cousins and it just became second nature. Two of my friends got married pretty young and they have a kid between Hanna and Leon’s age. His name is Bradley. I’m the godfather and I spend a lot of my free time with him.”

Pete doesn’t realize he’s rambling again until Mr. Kazansky is smiling that same smile as earlier again.

“I remember your old man calling you a baby whisperer when he gave me your number. I thought he was full of shit, but the more I see you with them, the more I have to believe him,” Pete’s own smile makes itself known and Mr. Kazansky’s smile tilts into a quirk of lips. “Don’t let it inflate your ego too much, kid.”

“Never, Sir. My ego is already big as is.”

They’re both laughing as he fishes two $100 bills out of his wallet. It’s more than expected for the short day of work and Pete thinks the man is in a generous mood today. He moves to stand in front of Pete and Pete is helpless to accept the crisp bills being pressed into his palm. Then Tom is winking at him.

“I think you deserve this for being so good with them today. And please, Pete?”

“Yes, Sir?”

Now that Mr. Kazansky is closer, Pete watches as his jaw jumps slightly and his eyes go a bit dark. It sends something dangerous shooting through his spine as he watches the older man.

“You can drop the honorifics already. I know Sarah has asked that you call her by her name and now I’m asking you to do the same. Tom is fine.”

“Yes, Sir,” Pete replies on autopilot, barely registering the words. “Shit, oh God, sorry. I mean Tom, Sir.”

His words are coming out fast and nervous sounding, but Mr. Kazan– Tom is just laughing and Pete is hit by the minty smell of chewing gum and an underlying scent of cigarette smoke. It’s all so intoxicating as Tom stands too close, practically sharing Pete’s space.

[officialjimmybuffett]

how to email professor about them being disrespectful of ur time and to please post assignments not 24 hrs before they’re due

[allylikethecat]

Talk Shop Tuesday: how many fandoms are you a part of? Are those different than what you create for? Which one is your favorite and why?

Yay!! Happy Talk Show Tuesday! Thank you for the question! 🥰 I consider myself to in too many fandoms to keep track of, in terms of fanfic that I read. However, at this point in time I'm only actively writing and posting fanfic for The 1975, in the past I've also written Hockey RPF and Top Gun Fic. At the moment I'm having a lot of fun writing The 1975 fic, but Hockey RPF will always be my first love. I also will always have a soft stop for Top Gun / Hangster fic - that is where I have had the most success and it really helped to build my confidence as a writer! Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I hope I answered the question in the way that you were looking for! I also hope you had a fabulous Tuesday and that you have a wonderful rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon and reader compilation of them having physical contact throughout the day? Like brushing fingers when handing off drinks, or him putting a hand on her hip in the walk as he says,” behind,” to stop her from freaking out as he grabs something overhead, etc .thank youuuuuuuuuu

You guys are making me jealous of reader I swear-

You're the one who starts this game, even if it's unintentional. You ask him for a pen one day, yours is empty and you've got a six top in the corner that's ready to order. He gives you one from the bar, and you tap his forearm twice. "Thanks, Simon!" You say, skipping of to your table.

Simon Simon Simon... he stares after you, replaying your voice and your touch in his mind. It's so nonchalant for you, but it's got him derailed from whatever he was doing. Oh, right. Bartending.

But he makes a point to make you understand what you're doing to him. You're punching in a payment at the POS when you suddenly feel a hand on your upper back, and you freeze.

"Behind ya." He mumbles, reaching over you and into the cabinet to grab a to-go box. "Sorry, stealin' your boxes. I'm out."

You feel his fingers slide across your back until they retreat, and it takes everything within you to suppress a shiver. You look back at him once he leaves, feeling your face heat up and your lips quiver. Behind the bar, there's a fresh stack of to-go boxes.

Sneaky bastard.

You get him back, though. On a busy night, you jog behind the bar, nearly colliding with Simon. He stills and raises his hands. "Careful, Christ-"

You worm your way past him, ever-so-slightly pressing against his front, giving him the perfect angle of your tits. He can't breathe as you wiggle through - the fabric of his shirt and yours do little to quell the blazing heat he feels from you.

"That soda gun's broken!" You call out, filling the two glasses in your hand with the gun at the opposite end of the bar. You then trot back over and squeeze by him again - this time, your ass barely graces his cock, and he swears it nearly leaps to life just to feel the brush of your backside. "Thanks!" You call over your shoulder, disappearing into the restaraunt.

Simon takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders, staring at the bartop and trying not to go feral. (You're making it very hard for him). He picks up the soda gun and pushes all of the buttons - they all work fucking fine.

Come the following week, Simon decides to be bold. You sit at the bar on a slow Tuesday evening, watching the game on the telly, occasionally reaching over the bar to snag a fry (they're Simon's, but he hasn't touched them in a while - they would get cold). Your two tables are talking amongst themselves, waiting for their food. You would glance back into the kitchen window and check the warmer for their orders, but so far, Soap's still working on them. So you relax, having nothing better to do.

You're hoisted out of the barstool when two, large, meaty hands grab you by the waist. You shriek, dropping your fry, grabbing onto Simon's forearms as he lifts you up and deposits you onto your feet.

"Stop eatin' my chips, stop slackin', n' go roll silverware." He grumbles - he gives you two, sharp pats on the small of your back, the tips of his fingers on the curve of your ass.

You can't find it in yourself to turn around and gripe with him. You can't even look at him. You scurry off and run upstairs in search of fresh napkins, face red as a tomato and your stomach fluttering nicely. This is normal, right? This is what waitressing lis like - flirtatious behavior everywhere, both giving and receiving. It doesn't mean anything. Right?

Simon chuckles. He'll take that as a win.

[outalongtheedges]

The way callsigns are actually given

Viper renaming Flex(Chipper) and Sundown after being late

[tumble-tv]

There’s word (very strong and big word) that Donald Trump is going to start mass deportations on Tuesday, January 21, 2025.

He wants any immigrants, no matter how long they have been a citizen of the USA, to be deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. They’re starting in Chicago, Illinois. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has started raiding homes and families in California. Here’s some information.

When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:

Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)

Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)

Both hands in pockets

Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward

Sweatshirts with the hood up

Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)

Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)

Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)

Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)

Overly friendly

Overly inquisitive

“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions

Don’t fit in

Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)

DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE

YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY

COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER

COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU

SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS

For protesting:

N95 masks

Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one

Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.)

Snacks

Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)

Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)

If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?

Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt.

Power bank

Chargers

Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage

Hand sanitizer

Gloves (either to keep your hands warm or simple nitrile exam gloves, both work)

Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything

Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)

Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds

FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)

Good shoes

Spare socks. Trust me.

As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible

Photocopy of your ID

Sunscreen

Make sure your clothes have pockets

Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind.

If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.

If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains.

Scarf if you have one

Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.

Pocket knife.

Pepper spray/mace

Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.

IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME

IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD

MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE

I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian, and male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.

Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.

If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Simply reposting information helps.

[peachesandcreames]

Real Men Cuddle Their Dogs. 💞💕

[totallynotashieldagent]

falling for jason todd happens slowly and then all at once

it starts with lazy pre-patrol Friday evenings. he knows you don't have work in the morning so he stays for a snack before heading out.

it turns into "hey wanna watch a movie?" which turns into "I'm ordering food for us" and then you're lying on the couch at other ends but your feet are in his lap as top gun plays on the TV and he doesn't even realize he's doing it but he's rubbing the tension out of your heels.

it turns into "oh my office has a workshop for first aid happening" and you take it because you figure you should know how to patch him up after the bad nights

that turns into him showing up on a Tuesday night, which NEVER happens but he's on edge and he's anxious and he doesn't know what else to do and he just needs a hug and you do it.

you hold him until he stops shaking and he falls asleep on you like a weighted blanket.

maybe in hindsight, that is where it all started. waking up in a mess of limbs and untangling yourself, pushing him off until he falls on the ground and you laugh before leaving to get ready for work and... he doesn't leave. he's there when you come back in the evening because he just- he doesn't have an answer except, he didn't want to go.

you shrug and say you don't mind and you continue with your evening errands and chores and he orders food and during it all you realize how... domestic this all is.

it's a wednesday evening and he knows gotham is waiting for him but tonight...just tonight, he wasn't something calm, something normal.

the air is thick but neither of you address it. and he leaves eventually with unsaid words and confusion hanging in his mind.

the routine of friday night hangouts continue but every touch is more.. electric and neither of you say anything because you really do think that it's just in YOUR mind and the other doesn't feel that way at all.

it goes on for weeks and weeks until the tension gets so bad that you're snapping at each other for even breathing too loud but still you're in the same space because you can't handle the thought of being a part

it goes on for an embarrassing long time because even though the love is requited, you're both just fucking idiots

it goes on until a bad patrol night and he shows up with a bunch of knives sticking out of his back and instead of going to a safehouse or alfred, he's here. with you. and your hands are shaking because this surgery level shit and you took a BASIC aid workshop. you're crying silently as you do your best to fix him even with the Lazarus healing kicking in and you keep whispering to yourself "not yet not yet not like this not like this not before I can say-"

and everything just ...freezes

"Before what?" He rasps, his breath laboured and hard

"It's nothing-" You whisper and continue to bandage him

so he twists his back and looks at you, asking again.

"Before what?" His eyes are glowing green as his wounds are slowly starting to heal under your fingertips. "Please-" He strains. "Before what?"

"Before I can be brave enough-" You swallow, your shaking hands pressed against the bandage of his back

"Brave enough for...?" He whispers, his eyes darting across your face, memorizing every feature. Your eyes, your Cupid's bow, your parted lips-

"For this-" You finally take a leap and press your lips to his.

Drabble Master List.

[unreleasedwrites]

OMG i hope this'll be the first smut req ever on your blog 😂 can i have a smut of Gun w/ his s/o on wedding night 🩷 just no degradation please bc i'm against it 🥲 thank you so much 💖

- 🧸 anon

Newlyweds

character(s) included: Park Jonggun x fem!reader

cw: implied SMUT, sexual content, has plot, Gun is not mean (imo), praise, baby fever, swearing, completely consensual, couple + kinky nicknames 😭, breeding kink (?), teasing, my first time writing smut so have mercy on me 🤕, also i don’t think there is degradation here, I tried writing this in an endearing way where gun is not a meanie !!

❤︎︎ — written on Tuesday Night, June 4 2024 - until published

❤︎︎ — published on Wednesday Afternoon, June 5 2024 (arnd 3 pm)

༄ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 ༄ contains sexual content and implied smut !!

“Smile!!” Your cousin said with glee while she was taking photos of you holding her adorable baby, who was born just around two months ago.

The baby was giggling nonstop as you were playing with her in order to get her to smile. You held her with your arms while posing for the camera. It was such a cute moment, all you could think about was how dedicated your cousin was to attend your wedding despite having literal twin boys just recently.

The other twin was asleep in the care of his father. While you, along with your cousin, continued to take pictures of you with one of the twins. You were in an elegant wedding dress while the baby was nicely dressed in yellow.

People watched you with the adorable baby, some even suspecting that he was yours and Guns’. Others went into absolute awe whenever the baby would match your energy.

One of those people was your newly wedded husband, Gun.

He was chatting with some of his trusted friends whom he chose to invite, when he heard the commotion and looked over to the front portion of the venue, which was overly traditional, only to see you holding a baby. You looked so genuine and happy over a little thing, that it sort of confused him. You two have already talked about kids and he didn’t seem to care that much, but he’s held Yenna before so he knows how adorable they are.

But seeing you up there being so happy, and seemingly caring so much for a little infant— that made him feel an entirely new way about having a family.

It didn’t help that his close friends were pushing him into the idea, suggesting that the baby could be yours and Guns’ instead in the near future and that you would be doing the same thing. Saying you’d be such a good mother, with them knowing how you are around children since Gun has introduced you some time ago.

Given how traditional Gun and his family can be, they have been bothering him constantly about a baby while Gun just brushes it off. He’s too busy to have a baby after all, right?

Well, that’s what he usually thinks, but its almost like he changed in an instant when he saw you. From the moment he first saw you, up until now— he’s always thought that you’d look so good full of him, full from carrying his child.

“Nnnggh— Gu-Gunn..!!—” You whined helplessly as Gun continued thrusting into you, even after 2 continuous rounds. His stamina truly unmeasurable.

“Shhh.. m’gonna stuff you full with my cum, you’re gonna look even more irresistible,” Gun whispered in your ear without breaking his rhythmic thrusts into your little pussy.

Gun has been taking his sweet time on you, literally. He has been on top of you for what feels like hours now. Your usually tired after only one round, but tonight… who knows how much rounds you’re in for. He’s been acting all lovey dovey after he saw you with that baby, telling you sweet nothings and what not.

“I can’t— m’ too full alread—yy!!” You practically screamed from pure pleasure when Gun started dragging his cock in and out, teasing you of your closely awaited orgasm.

“Awh, my wife shouldn’t have to worry about that— After all, you’re doing soooo good f’me, taking me in so damn well.” He groaned in between words as he felt the teasing pleasure from dragging his cock in and out of your hole too.

You were an absolute mess at this point, Gun was teasing you of your third orgasm while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, knowing you love when he does that. With every phrase he’d whisper, he could feel you getting even wetter, if that was even possible.

“You’re gonna look so beautiful carrying our baby,” he’d whisper as he slowly pushes his cock deeper into you, slowing down his thrusts a whole lot just to get a reaction out of you.

He’s just in love with the way you whine and moan for him, the way you squirm under him only makes him even more determined to fill you.

He thinks you look so pretty like this, when you’re a moaning mess, with tears forming in your eyes from how good his cock feels inside of you.

His thrusts slow down but get even deeper than they already were, which you never would have imagined that could happen. He’s hitting spots you didn’t even know was there to be pleasured.

“Nnnnnghhh— d-daddyy… feels so.. good,” you managed to utter out, throwing your head back involuntarily. Fuck. That immediately brought Gun to a halt. His cock twitched uncontrollably and he finished right there and then, deep inside of you.

“Wh..What was that, that you just called me..?” He groaned while breathing heavily.

“Mmm.. you mean, daddy?” You replied, trying to regain some sort of composure and energy. His cock twitched at the name. You could tell he was only getting harder and even more amused with how this was going.

He only laughed in response and began to thrust in and out of you again, much faster than he was when you two first got in bed.

“NNnnn—! W-waitt!! Needa break—, ple..ase!” Your words only got him harder as he hit all sorts of spots which got you even wetter.

“No can do, seems like you’ve been teasing me on purpose since we woke up this morning,” He said as he leaned in to kiss you.

Your moans were muffled out by the kiss, and his thrusts began to get sloppier, “b-but m’legs hurt so bad..” You complained because you were practically folded with your legs having hung in the air ever since you two started. But unfortunately for you, Gun loves doggy style and missionary, and you do too— just not that much when you’ve been in the same position for so incredibly long…

“How’s my pretty wife doing?” Gun suddenly brings up amidst all the moaning and groans that filled your guys’ hotel room. He always wants to check in on his pretty girl after all.

“I don’t feel as tired anymore.. which is weird since we didn’t take a break or anything like that, but it feels nice....” You reassured him, knowing that he is trying his best to hold back on you, and not go overboard.

Especially since this is your guys’ one and only wedding night. He knows you’re already exhausted from walking around and chatting with all sorts of people and dolling yourself up because you want to look your very best for your guys’ special day. So of course, he wants you to be able to relax but still enjoy the special night. After all, this isn’t just another fuck session you guys are having, it’s different.

“haghhhh—, feels so good, Jonggun..” You said, much more relaxed with the pace of his thrusts.

Gun smiled at your little reaction, not in a mocking way but in the way that he finds you awfully adorable.

“My wife likes it much, much more when we’ve got no protection on, does she now?” He replied as he stroked your cheek with the dried off tears from earlier.

“Mhm,” you nodded as you stroked his messy hair.

You could feel his pace grow quicker and his breath hitched. It was evident that he was close and you were too.

“Gun, m’cumming—!” You suddenly shrieked when his pace kept increasing and he got impossibly closer to you, placing his lips on yours as you both finished.

You felt so immensely tired yet happy. He broke the kiss and brushed his finger over your wet lips while maintaining eye contact with you.

He had what looked to be an involuntary yet very genuine smile, which he kept on before lifting you up princess style towards the bathroom— Where he gently placed you in the bathtub and turned the faucet on. He got into the bathtub with you and pulled you closer so that your back would be leaning on his chest. His grasp on you is surprisingly gentle, relaxing even.

You both were in pure bliss.

notes: help idk 😭 I really hope this isn’t too bad, especially for the anon who requested it 🤕 I tried but yeah i’ve never written smut until now so sjeiehjsksiwjwkkss but I do like to read so I try to get some like tips from those iykwim

anyway i hope it doesn’t seem like degrading since i tried my best to write it in a nicer way but yk ig it also depends on how you read and see it on your own so yeah and yes i have a different layout and style for smut fics 😁😁

ngl i think this might be the quickest i’ve done a request… if not then its definitely the second 😭

- With or without proper credits, please don't try to steal or claim any of my works as your own

I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs

Once again, I hope this isn't too bad for my first smut fic 😭, and I'II be doing more characters in lookism so feel free to request!!

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hii i have a request for megumi x reader where he is unaware of readers attraction to him and he is doesn’t realise the effect of when he does something like scratch his neck and his shirt lifts and it happens one too many times until she admits that he’s pretty which makes him all flustered😭 can be sfw or nsfw

Staring Problem

Five times Megumi caught you staring at him + the one time you caught him staring at you

Notes: I got carried away whoops. Flustered Megs is my fav followed by feral. (I actually had another scenario like this for Christmas except the Reader was doing it on purpose rofl; this one is just a bit ditzy). Thanks for the request. It was fun! Thank you @avidbroswer and another friend for beta reading!

Relationship: Megumi x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fluff, humor, mild sexual context but overall SFW (i.e. no sex), 5000 words

The first time Megumi notices you staring at him is after the baseball game with the Kyoto students.

The game was a big win for your group. Everyone was loudly cheering and celebrating your victory over your sister school – aside from him. It’s not that he wasn’t pleased with the victory. Who wouldn’t be? The cheering and high-fiving wasn’t his scene though. The most celebration he required was simply brushing his hand through divine dog’s fur for a job well done before dismissing the creature.

Megumi walks back to the dugout, steps into the drop-off, and peels his helmet from the top of his head. The sweat accumulated in his helmet causes his hair to cling to him, forcing it down against the back of his neck and his bangs into his line of sight more than usual. He never liked what he considered too much hair on his nape; and for some reason, Gojo hated it even more. Not that he ever understood why Gojo would care about how he styled his hair. He was just weird, he guesses.

Either way, it was annoying.

Gripping his shirt collar, he brings it to his forehead to clean the moisture away, and there’s the added bonus of the breeze cooling off his stomach as his shirt untucks from his uniform pants. He finishes off his grooming with a quick stroke of his fingers up through his bangs before reaching for his water bottle.

It isn’t until he’s finished drinking and wiping away the small bead of water that escapes his mouth to cascade down his pointed jaw with the back of his wrist that he catches the sudden sensation of someone looking at him.

He glances behind him, scanning the crowd of cheerful faces, and he catches your gaze pinning him down. There’s no mistake you’re watching him, but he isn’t sure why you have that clouded, half-lidded stare locked on him like a homing gun.

It makes him antsy even when your neutral lips turn into a gentle smile, and you move to congratulate Itadori on his victory-winning home run.  

The next time he catches you, you’re at the café with the other first years, pouring over schoolbooks together. He doesn’t often study with the others outside of class; but out of everyone in the school, he has the best head on his shoulders academically so he can’t really refuse when the three of you earnestly ask for his help for once.

As he draws one leg over the other, Megumi shifts his weight to sit more comfortably in his chair. He rests his chin against his palm, allowing his lengthy fingers to massage the increasingly growing migraine from his throbbing temple while his elbow braces against the table to support the position. His other hand tightens around the handle of his mug and brings it to his mouth. The drink – coffee, black, always – is the only thing stopping his mind from going numb at reviewing the same information he already knows as Nobara struggles to read the chart on this particular page.

“Toos-day.”

“Tuesday.”

“When-is-day.”

“Wednesday,” Megumi corrects.

Stomping onto her feet, her hands slam on the table causing it to shake. Megumi holds his drink closer to his chest to avoid it spilling over as she growls out. “This is so stupid! Why do we need to know English anyway? Why couldn’t it be something like French? Then, we could at least hit up Paris Fashion Week.” She pulls at her hair in frustration, stopping only when you mention that she’ll cause split ends. Sighing, she releases her tension and falls back in her chair. "I need a break."

On that, you're all in agreement.

Taking the opportunity to ease his head, Megumi blows away the steam swirling from his coffee. He closes his eyes if only for a moment to bask in the roast. The liquid is hot and smooth on his tongue, a welcome sensation after walking through the cool evening to get here. It’s enough to earn a small sigh of approval.  

When he opens his eyes, he sees that you’re nursing your own drink by pinching your straw between your lips. However, your eyes are on him 'or maybe the mug near his mouth?' he thinks. Regardless, you’re doing it attentively with an affectionate glint like you were smiling on the inside. It makes his eye twitch.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

You flinch like you’re snapping out a hypnotic trance. Slowly, a meek smile forms as you innocently tilt your head and place down your drink. “I was?”

“You were," Itadori corroborates. "You do it a lot actually," Itadori adds between bites of his sandwich. The fact is something Megumi has begun to notice recently as well. 

Noticing everyone looking at you, your eyes widen slightly before you force them back down to look at your textbook. You slide your hands from the table and rest them in your lap. “I must’ve zoned out,” you say apologetically.

Megumi scoffs.

“If you’re going to ask me to help you study, you could at least pay attention.” Megumi sighs at the growing remorse on your face. “Forget it,” he dismisses and decides to go back to his coffee, but the peace doesn’t last long as he catches that same gaze from you a minute later.

Your eyebrows push in together as you narrow your eyes briefly in thought, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on in your mind as you cock your head to the side again.

“Ne, Fushiguro,” you begin hesitantly and quietly. He doesn’t think he would’ve noticed you speaking to him with how soft your voice was had he not already been looking at you. “Did anyone ever tell you that your voice is kinda husky in English?”

Suddenly, his face is hot along with his tongue as he inadvertently chokes on his drink while the other two at the table burst out laughing, drowning out your frantic mutterings as you collapse your face into your palms.

It seems to be a cycle now. Megumi would be going about his day when he would occasionally (usually twice a day) get this sensation of being watched. Sure enough, he could find you following him with your eyes. There isn’t any anger when you’re doing it so he’s fairly sure that you’re not cornering him with your sight out of aggression, but he couldn’t think of another reason his presence would be of interest to you.

Megumi tried to ask Gojo the reason why someone might stare at him. When he explained that you were the one doing it, the older man only laughed at his predicament. Megumi didn’t know why he expected him to be any help in the first place anyway.

Maki was even less help (she seemed reluctant even), but at least she didn't look at him like he was an idiot like Nobara. Finally, there was Itadori, who only caused him more difficulty.

(“Are you sure she doesn’t just LIKE you?” Itadori suggested.

Megumi could only roll his eyes then. It always came back to that with him. “Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously—“

”I am!”)

Megumi almost entertained it until he thought ‘what reason would she like me?’ After all, you didn’t know each other that well. There was no explanation available so it had to be something else.

Out of everyone, he decides to take Maki’s advice that it's best to get the answer from the source.

However, whenever he asks what’s the problem, you never seem to give him a direct answer, explaining away your strange…habit. Even stranger was that he was starting to become accustomed to it, slowly losing the annoyance he held for it early on in your relationship – or maybe he was getting better at ignoring it.

Nonetheless, it would still be nice to have an explanation.

When he sees you early at breakfast, and you undoubtedly see him early at breakfast, he finally decides to broach the topic. He sits himself and his plate at your table, and he doesn’t give you the time to make excuses when he knows for certain you were staring at him.

“Alright. Enough already. What's the deal?"

“Hmm?”

“The staring,” he reiterates.

Your mouth opens like you want to say something but throughout the many times he’s confronted you on your manners, not once have you ever given him a straightforward answer.

“Don’t try to give an excuse. You were definitely watching me.”

As the small silence extends in the air so does the embarrassment on your face until it finally fades away along with your resolve. “Okay, this time I was,” you admit very specifically.

“Why?”

“There’s not really a reason," you explain while looking anywhere but directly at him, and it's an easy tell to sense that you're lying.

Megumi narrows his eyes at you. 

“For some reason, I feel like that's not the case."

There has to be some reason your attention is on him so much. He’d at least like to know if it was something he did to you.

“It’s nothing bad really,” you confess, avoiding eye contact with him while your fingers fidget. “Do…you want me to stop?”

Megumi would very much like to say he wants you to stop but somehow he doesn’t think he would be able to force you not to look at him. “I’d prefer it.”

“No problem,” you say and purse your lips tightly. “But…I probably wouldn’t be able to help it every now and then,” you warn him, which piques his curiosity even more.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, that’s because, uhm—to tell you the truth,“ you pause, and he wants to prod more from you but you’re quick to excuse yourself, leaving him with two weeks free from your staring. Or, at least you attempted for that long.

As he accepts that you're not going to stop, it comes to him that he doesn't really care anymore in the following months. It's just how you are, he figures sentimentally. It would feel weird if you stopped at this point. However, it leads to you catching him off guard too often, especially in moments like these.

The two of you were assigned to a mission to dispatch some low-level curses together. It was surprisingly easier than what the mission report suggested, not that he would complain about an easy mission.

Nue is behind him as he requests a ride back to the school over the phone. The bird shikigami is being needier than usual, nudging at the width of Megumi’s back with his head causing Megumi’s voice to be unsteady as the thick plate of Nue’s mask braces between his shoulder blades.

“Cut it out,” he scolds gently, reaching his free hand back to briefly ruffle at random mounds of feathers.

There’s a soft crooning in his ear, begging for attention. He isn’t used to Nue being this affectionate, not like his divine dogs. As he hangs up the call, Nue starts to stroke his head against his side again.

Amused, he huffs softly - as close to a laugh as anyone has ever heard from the taciturn teen – and raises his arm to let the bird cradle better against his side. The gentle cuddling from the shikigami is enough to lighten his mood as auburn feathers tickle against his fingers and coax the smallest smile from him.

“Alright. Alright. That’s enough,” he says affectionately before returning to the serious matters at hand. “We need to regroup with our partner. Can you go scout for her?” Megumi asks; but to his surprise, Nue flutters his wings and twists his head around to stare directly to the side of him…at you, a few feet away.

Megumi didn’t know how long you’d been standing there, watching him. He thinks any time was probably too long in this situation. (He also thinks he might demand you start wearing a bell when you go on missions together.)

With a goofy smile, you walk towards him, and his heart is pounding, anticipating what you could possibly be about to say as you shorten the distance between the two of you, so close that an outreached arm would be enough to close it. The childishly smug look on your face makes his cheeks burn as you gently begin to trace the outline on Nue’s faceplate and press your head against the top of Nue’s.

“Before you say anything, I wasn’t watching you. I was admiring Nue.”

Megumi scoffs. He can’t say he isn’t amused that out of all things to say, you start with that. As if it isn’t obvious by now that he knows that you’re failing hard to hide your bad habit – for whatever reason you have it. And even more amusing was the way your face would highlight in embarrassment as you tried to hide the fact.

“Convenient story.”

“It’s the truth. Isn’t that right, Nue? You’re so handsome that I can’t tear my eyes away,” you praise, cuddling the owl until he ruffles his feathers and chitters, happily letting you drown him in attention.

And for the first time, he finds himself watching you instead with your face buried against his shikigami, and Nue is equally happy for your touch. It’s a sweet scene as Megumi concludes where Nue might have started to learn these overly affectionate tendencies. That is until you turn your head, naturally searching for his presence. When you meet his gaze, you smile warmly at him causing heat to crawl up the back of his neck and his heart to jump in his throat. With your focus on him this way, he is overwhelmed by a new sensation that he isn’t sure why he’s feeling in the first place. It’s not like he was unused to you looking in his direction.

Astonished by the moment, you point out, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile before.”

Confused, Megumi blinks at you. Had he been smiling?

Your expression softens. “It suits you.”

Surprised by your tender observation, he shifts his head away, hiding his rapidly reddening cheeks from you.

“Let’s head to the meeting point,” he manages, thanking whoever above that he was able to keep his voice steady at least.

One day, you decided to stop at the café together again. This time it’s only the two of you since the others are still out on their own duo mission. Even with that being the case, he would still have accepted your invitation regardless of the availability status of your other two friends. He isn’t really sure when he started to be okay being alone with you, and he also isn’t sure when you began to get comfortable with him as well. But he finds he doesn't mind either of those anymore.  

“You’re staring,” he points out flatly, not bothering to look up from his book to confirm his accusation. He knows it’s true. “What is it this time?”

There’s a laugh from you, drawing his attention up. “Nothing.”

Normally, he would let you get away with that answer nowadays; but today, Megumi is determined to finally get to the bottom of whatever is up with you and him. 

“Nothing?” he questions again skeptically. You nod, and he holds his gaze on you, pointedly, securely, determined to not even blink as he watches your face.

You frown. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” he asks, one long blink to reset himself before firmly keeping royal blue eyes locked on you once more.

“That,” you say, motioning to all of him.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Uh-huh."

There’s a small beat of quiet as you return your focus to your book, but you look up every so often (probably to check if he's stopped eye-ing you down, which he doesn't). Holding an arm across your chest to scratch at the other, you squirm. As awful as it is, he feels a bit smug at the way you curve in and start to grow self-conscious.

“This is weird.”

“It is,” he agrees bluntly causing you to pout. He notes how funny it is to finally see the tables turned between the two of you and to have you overly aware of his watch. Even if he doesn’t get his answer, teasing you like this and eliciting that cute reaction is strangely worth it.

“How long are you going to do that?”

Megumi crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, never letting you leave his vision. He shrugs. “Depends. Are you going to tell me?”

You scowl but manage to hold your resolve for the better half of five minutes.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stop,” you say, but he isn’t satisfied with that answer. Choosing to keep his rebellious challenge against you, he leans in closer and keeps up the wall until you finally start to crack under the pressure. “Well…it’s nothing really.”

“Then, tell me.”

“It’s,” you begin then pause.

He hunches in closer as if to keep your secret.

“It’s just that…” he can see you start to fidget in your chair, and for some reason, he feels his own anticipation growing. “You have a really pretty way about you.”

That was not the answer he was expecting.

“Huh? I have…a pretty way about me?” he repeats in disbelief, his face scrunching. “You must be joking.”

“I’m serious,” you tell him. “It’s something in the way you move, it makes it hard to concentrate.”

Megumi could only guess what kind of answer you would have but it wasn’t one that instantly makes his temperature skyrocket and causes his heart to start swelling against his ribcage, spreading the feeling of liquid butterflies through his veins.

“That's the only reason,” you repeat, noticing the way he seemed to completely stop functioning. “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

He uncrosses his arms, trying to sputter out a coherent sentence but his mind wouldn’t supply him with one as he fights to keep his own blushing down. “No. I’m not—it’s not that I’m—I just didn’t know what it was about—I—pretty?” he stammers, completely bewildered to the point he thinks his voice might crack for the first time in years. 

You nod, growing more embarrassed. “I mean in a masculine way! Like your eyes, your hands, your voice, and the way your shirt drapes your shoulders. Ah! Basically…you’re really handsome,” you finish quickly when you realize you are rambling stupidly, and you squeeze onto the edge of your chair to calm yourself.

It’s so quiet between the two of you that you could possibly hear one of the cheap plastic straws from the front counter drop.

“Fushiguro-kun?” you ask bashfully.

He focuses his attention on the passerby's walking by the window as he shifts and squeezes at his uniform collar, attempting desperately to hide a fraction of his burning face behind the dark blue fabric. You…were simply attracted to him for some reason he would probably never understand (why in the world would you think any of that about him is attractive?) all this time.

“Let’s pretend this conversation never happened,” he tells you frantically.

Nodding, you confirm. “Yeah! That’s a good idea.”

For once, you’re not staring at him yet Megumi still feels like he can’t breathe despite the rapid rising and falling of his chest showing that he was very well breathing. As his face continues to burn and his stomach churns with this unfamiliarly pleasant and confusing emotion, he wishes his shadow would open and swallow him whole. Forever, perhaps.

It isn’t until later that night when his mind is heavy with thoughts of you, he admits to himself that he doesn’t exactly hate your reason.

Bonus

Before you enrolled in this school, your clan already outlined your priorities in life. Study, learn, become the best sorcerer you can for the benefit of the clan and your own survival. There isn’t time for things like friendship and even less for love, your family taught you, at least not until you’re older.

You agreed with that sentiment, going through your younger teen years not ever having a crush on someone or a strong preoccupation with romance. However, this school is proving that you still very much feel attraction.

Specifically for your withdrawn classmate.

Something about him was just so pretty. You’re not sure if it was the way his hair falls ever so neatly over his forehead before turning back into spiked peaks, or how deep blue his eyes are especially when shadowed by gorgeous rows of midnight eyelashes, or the way he carried himself like the stoic protagonists in the love comics your friends were obsessed with last year.

Maybe it was the entire package.

At the time you first started to notice him, you didn’t have the answer pieced together yet. Seeing that you also hadn’t learned anything proper about romance and attraction from your clan let alone flirting, the only thing you could do was stare at him as you failed to decipher this newfound infatuation that made your heart stutter and your lower body hot with tingles similar to the sensation of ginger spice on your tongue.

‘Is this that puberty thing they were talking about in health class all those years back,’ you wondered. They did say it could happen late, but this late? You weren’t sure, but you did like looking at him. That much was certain.

So, you continued to do so.

It's not like you were exactly going against what your clan told you.

After all, your clan would always say it’s important to be aware of your surroundings as a sorcerer, remember every little detail, and save it to memory, that could be the difference between death and victory in a battle.

Shouldn’t you take that advice to heart when it comes to your teammates as well? After all, these are the people you will be relying on while working. It’s important to learn their mannerisms.

Another thing your clan told you was that hands are an important thing to watch. Any sorcerers’ hands were a danger from Itadori’s hand-to-hand combat style, Gojo-sensei’s domain expansion, and Fushiguro’s entire technique.

His hands were always coming together to summon shadows, and he talked and explained things frequently with them to the point it became a distraction for you.

You also like the way his dominant hand always seems to climb up and curve around the back of his neck in the mornings as he stretches out the tightness from a cramped sleep. You would watch as he glosses each finger across his nape and shoulder, wondering what it would be like to have them coming across your own and to have fingers that could expertly craft signs tickling at your skin.  Would you shudder or would it tickle or would it feel like nothing?  Fortunately, you always resist the shaking urge to glide your own hand across your collar to find the answer.

It isn’t always the way his palm brushes his neck that entirely gets you but the way his sweatshirt rises, barely revealing a ring of beige skin that was normally hidden away under layers of comfortable cotton. It not only exposes him to the stagnant air of the school building but to your wandering eyes that had a bad problem of not being able to remain where they should be.

Objectively speaking, you were aware from day one that Itadori was strong and well-built under his clothes, but you didn’t realize the same could be said for Megumi until you saw the slip of his lower abdominal and the constellation of pale brown freckles hidden in the groove of his hip.

By the time your attention would return to his hands, you would be locked on the gentle way his knuckle catches the edge of his shirt's neckline. It was unknowing to him during those times that the action was teasing you by causing the fabric to lightly shift and expose the crux of his collarbone. 

Then, you didn’t even want to get started on his face or eyes. The same ones that are gorgeously blue even when stormy with annoyance or softened with confusion every time he would catch you.

From your point of view, you admit that both looks were handsome on his face. However, you’re starting to realize from your last interaction that maybe you were being a tad…invasive.  You refused to say creepy without a pillow to scream into.

So, you convince yourself to stop staring whenever you notice your eyes drifting to him. Only small peeks for his comfort unless you were talking to him or he to you. In hindsight, you think you are better at talking to him without embarrassing yourself all the time at least.

Your new resolve would be tested today as you prepare to head to the training field for another day of close combat drills with your upperclassmen. You dress in layers, wearing a light jacket and thigh socks with your shorts, fully intending to ditch both once it heats up a little more in the afternoon.

When you make it to the practice field, you notice two things: that Megumi is there (which you swear you only took note of for two seconds) and that you’re the last to arrive, meaning that you’re going to be the first put through the wringer with Maki-senpai.

The only positive is that you manage to last an extra round against her more than usual, and you’re left with only an aching butt as you hit the ground. You hiss and rub your wounded rear before dusting the ripped-up blades of grass from your lap. Noticing your socks bunched against your ankles, you click your tongue. Bending your legs, you start to shuffle one back up the length of your calf then your thigh. You unfurl it as high as you can until there’s only a small circumference of skin left between your shorts and the top of your sock. Satisfied, you start to repeat the process with your other leg before Maki taps your hip with her staff.

“Megumi is staring at you,” she grunts in a quiet warning, and you blink at her before trying to glance back over to the first row of bleachers. “Not too obvious.”

You force your gaze back to her, using the opportunity to catch Megumi in your periphery. Sure enough, you could barely make him out looking in your direction while Itadori talked to him. That was weird. You don't think you can recall a time where he was watching you unless you did it first. ‘He was probably watching me train,’ you begin to decide.

Before you can register what's going on completely, Maki calls out dryly, "Hey, Megumi, pictures last longer!” 

Barely from this distance, you can see his head snap back and a scowl glowering on his face as he glares at her direction. “What are you talking about?”

“So, you want to play that way,” she mumbles and singles him out with a point of her staff and a crooked smile. “In that case, I’ll explain while we train!”

Megumi looks more annoyed than you have seen him in the last few days as he declares from the bleachers that he’s training with Panda instead as soon as he’s done with Nobara.

“That guy,” Maki grumbles quietly, slapping her staff back against her shoulder and layering a hand on her hip. “He makes things so difficult for everyone, including himself. I guess I’ll have to have a chat with him later.”

"Huh?" you huff as she twists her waist to look at you.

“Well, I can’t exactly have my darling little relative turning out like the rest of those perverts from the clan, after all,” she explains vaguely but instead of anger, there’s a rare hint of sarcastic amusement in her words. Suddenly, it starts to dawn on you what Maki means as your fingers brush the side of your inner thigh, and your throat starts to tighten with something akin to anxiety, and you want desperately to bury your face in your hands as you realize that he was looking at your legs. That he must like your legs…

The thought makes your heart pound, and something pulses inside you with what feels like anticipation as you catch his attention on you again. You were used to lusting after him but it was a different feeling to experience it in reverse – mutually even.

Is this what it felt like? Have you ever made him feel like this by watching him?

You didn’t know what to do.

“What do I do?”

She gives an incredulous look. “Call him out naturally, especially if it bothers you,” she replies. "But that isn't what you want, right?"

You frown, not entirely sure yourself. It didn’t bother you necessarily. If anything, you like his attention on you. It makes your body otherworldly hot when he gives it to you. Pulling your knees to your chest, you think back to what someone in one of those television dramas would do in this situation. It takes some courage, but you find your answer.

You wink at him.

It elicits an immediate response that involves him shoving his hands in his pockets and scrambling to break eye contact; so much that you can see Itadori twisting towards him with concern.

“Hah, that was a good one." Maki lets out a short and harsh snort. "Wait until I tell Panda.”

Smiling proudly, you can’t resist staring at the flush that he has to stand and stalk off to the other side of the field closer to Inumaki and Panda to hide. Out of all the attractive things about him, you think that might top your list; and truthfully, you wanted to see it again.

[goldenroutledge]

nose dive

pairing: john b. routledge x kook!fem!reader

word count: 3.0k

summary: in which john b is running from trouble and comes knocking at your door, rekindling a forgotten spark between you

warning(s): canon events, blood, being chased, slowburn ?, fluff

john b. routledge masterlist

Figure 8. Also known as uncharted territory for John Booker Routledge, whose reputation only worsened with time. Years ago, Big John’s disappearance– then surprise reappearance– seemed to set off John B’s domino effect of bad luck. Being caught up in the gun incident at the break and consequently being fired by Ward Cameron, being involved in a dispute with Barry, formerly on trial for killing the town’s sheriff in cold blood… not the cleanest track record in the eyes of the people he wanted nothing more than to get away from.

Only a few people might’ve topped that list. The mercenaries were lurking around the island like hungry crocs waiting in water, keeping a close eye on John B’s friend group and their treasure hunting pursuits. The one guy in particular, tall and built with brown hair and a dark look he couldn’t shake, had all the pogues walking on eggshells and looking over their shoulders constantly.

Right now, John B wishes he could spare a second to look over his shoulder, as he sprints down the road as fast as his feet will take him. Dirt turns into gravel before it turns into a paved road with beautiful homes on either side of them. He pants, painfully so, a deep scrape on his abdomen turning an angry red from a fence he just had to climb over. He doesn’t remember accidentally cutting himself on it, but the dampness though his shirt tells a different story.

The scenery around him begins to change the further he goes, letting him know that he’s not on the Cut anymore. Just when he wants to stop, having nowhere else to go, he recognizes the familiar knockout rose bushes near the curb of the driveway ahead. Your driveway.

Maybe it wasn’t the best scenario, but this was his only option at the moment. You two were acquainted, meeting last spring when he did some jobs for your family, preparing the pool for summer and what not. The two of you hit it off surprisingly, but John B stopped coming around as quickly as he started. It was slightly disappointing for you, but as you saw it, he probably wasn’t interested in you anyway. If anything, he flirted with you for the tips.

Though there was never an official hello or goodbye between you two. You could either slam the door in his face or not answer at all, maybe you weren’t even home. It was worth a shot in any case.

John B can’t hear footsteps chasing after him anymore, he’s pretty sure he’s lost the guy. But making the assumption that he’s safe is a luxury he can’t afford. With a fisted hand he knocks on the wooden door and rings the doorbell once for good measure.

You swore you were hearing things until the doorbell sounded, leaving you to sigh and place your bookmark between the pages that you just barely started reading. With no patience to check who was behind the door or bother to yell out “Who is it?”, you swung it open.

“John B? What are you doing here?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as your eyes land on him, leaning up against your home on an extended arm as he pants to catch his breath. To say this was the last person you expected to see on a random Tuesday afternoon would be an understatement.

“Do you mind if I come in? Please?” He answers breathlessly, golden brown eyes meeting yours with a pleading look.

“Sure, come in.” You open the door wider for him to enter, examining his disheveled appearance. Patches of dirt, grass, and even some blood stains covered his loosened button up, making you wonder what on Earth could have led him to your front doorstep. “Are you… okay?”

John B doesn’t waste time, entering your home and plopping down on the leather sofa with a sigh, running a hand over his face and then through his hair. You were close behind, sitting beside him as you held an expression and feeling of concern. “I could be better.” John B quips, monotone as ever. And by the looks of it, you believe him.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? A Bandaid?” You ramble, his eyes shooting down to his injury once you mention the latter.

“Shit.” John B mumbles to himself, blood now visibly seeping through the thin material of his shirt. “I didn’t realize… I can um- would you mind if I used your bathroom to clean up?”

“No, no. Stay here.” You assure him, fingers grazing over his shoulder to keep him from standing up, afraid that if he does, you’ll have a harder time helping him if he passes out. “I’ll help you.”

You scurry to the kitchen to grab him a bottle of water, twisting open the cap and handing it to him quickly. He takes several gulps like he just ran a marathon, not even bothering to put on the usual manners that are standard here on Figure 8.

“Thank you.” John B acknowledges, his voice less hoarse now that he’s rehydrated.

“Sure.” You respond with a soft smile, standing up and holding your hand out for him to take. “Come with me. We need to get that wound taken care of.”

“Alright.” John B agrees, but then again, he probably would’ve agreed to just about anything right now. His head’s spinning and it doesn’t seem to be slowing down even though his body has.

You lead him to the guest bedroom and gesture for him to sit on the rectangular ottoman at the end of the bed. “One second.” You tell him, before going to retrieve some first aid supplies from the en-suite.

John B looks around at the tastefully decorated room, feeling out of place as everything looks like it’s straight off the cover of an interior design magazine. He doesn’t remember your house being so nice, but then again most of his time working here was spent outside.

Except for when you would purposely, unbeknownst to him, fix lunch around the time he was present, offering him to come inside and eat with you. Just because it was convenient of course, you’d hate to let the food go to waste. He could never resist a good meal anyway.

Your house appeared spotless enough to eat off of any given surface, he’s seen JJ eat off dirtier things. And here he was, feeling like he just rolled around in a pigpen, while resting on a plush couch in your gorgeous home.

“Can you unbutton your shirt for me?”

“If you insist.” He chuckles, earning a look from you. Your eyes widen upon seeing his injury close up. This is the first time John B had the time to examine it, too. He cringes at the sight as it’s a lot worse than he expected. Adrenaline will do that to a person.

“My God, what did you do?”

“How much time do we have? You want the short or the long version?” John B prompts.

“I want the truth, John B. What happened to you?” Your eyes soften with sympathy as they scan his appearance.

He sighs. “Do you remember when I first mentioned my little treasure hunting gig with my friends?” You give him a nod. “Well, we’re not the only ones after it, obviously. There’s another guy and he’s really after us. Dodged so many run-ins with him that he started chasing my ass in the street. I hopped a fence, probably lost him around that point and now I’m here.”

You try your best to make sure your expression doesn’t come off as judgemental to avoid being rude, until your heart softens when he speaks up again. “I didn’t know where else to go. But I thought I’d be safe here.”

“You are safe here.” You smile. “Don’t even worry about it.”

He nods, lips pursing together. “Yeah, I’ll try not to until I have to go outside again.”

You begin dabbing at his injury with a damp washcloth, cleaning up the excess area to find the root. “Whatever you do, try not to die.”

“Trying.” John B murmurs, hissing as the cloth meets the cut on his abdomen. “Maybe it’s time to take a vacation though. We’ve risked a lot.”

You giggle at his contemplations, knowing he doesn’t believe a word that’s coming out of his mouth. “Just don’t get caught. First thing you should do with your treasure money is hire a full security detail.”

“Ehh, there’s no fun in that. I’d rather fight ‘em myself.”

“Of course you would, John B.” You smirk, knowing that once you sterilize his open wound, that tough guy act will vanish.

“Holy sh-!” He shouts, clasping a hand to his mouth, as he bellows in pain. “So, you weren’t even gonna warn me? Just rub salt on it, why don’t you?”

“Oh relax, smartass. It’s better not to warn you.” You shrug, continuing your process despite his uncomfortable squirming and shifting. “The pain’s over before you know it so it’s not anything worth warning you about.”

“Uhm, speak for yourself.” He retorts, exaggeration clear in his tone. “Warn me next time, maybe?”

“Why? So you can be dramatic about it in the same amount of time it could’ve been over and done with? Didn’t know you were such a baby, John B. You seemed pretty tough when you were running from your adversary 30 minutes ago.” He remains silent, figuring that you must know best. It would only take the lightest pressure from the cloth to set his cut on fire again. Talking back wasn’t worth it.

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” You mutter in victory, gathering the used products and returning them to their original place, tossing the dirty materials. “Would you like to take a shower? I’m sure we have some spare clothes you could wear while I throw yours in the wash. I’d hate for that blood to stain your shirt permanently, it looks good on you.”

He smiles softly at your subtle compliment. “Thanks. But I don’t want to overstay my welcome, you’ve helped me more than enough.”

“So you’ll just drop this off at the dry cleaners on your way home?” You implore rhetorically, asking a question you both know the answer to. “You might as well take advantage of my kindness, John B. I don’t mind, y’know. It’s actually nice to have some company.”

“Alright, if you insist. I’m glad I could keep you company.” He trails off, puzzled at how cleaning him up was your idea of good company. “You think you can get the blood stain out?”

A chuckle escapes your lips unexpectedly at his question. “I can get blood out of pretty much anything.”

“Oh.” John B realizes, a rosy color taking over his cheeks. “Right. That might come in handy again someday.”

“As long as it’s not a murder cleanup, I’m happy to help. By the way, towels and everything should be in the cabinet.” You inform him from the doorframe of the bathroom, both of you sharing quick smiles and nods before you shut the door and leave with his stained button-up tee.

-

John B took longer than expected in the shower, his body going numb under the feeling of the warm water. It was refreshing to have a good shower in the midst of all the chaos in his life. Protected from all of it within these shiny porcelain tiles and the comfort of your home. When he comes out, he can’t help but smile at the fresh set of clothes laid out on the bed, neatly folded in a pile.

He saunters out of the guest bedroom, retracing his steps and following the scent of food into the kitchen. It was hard to remember his way around this place.

“Did you find everything okay?”

“Yeah, I did. Nice home, by the way. I always remembered it from the few jobs I did here. Not that I’ve been inside many of the houses over here but… you know.”

“Thanks. Have my parents' careers to thank for that.” You jest. “They’re never home to enjoy any of it, though. It’s usually just me around here.”

“You’re lucky I’m not scoping out potential burglary spots.” John B cautions. “You probably shouldn’t announce that. There’s some crazy people out there. Believe me.”

“Like you?” You chide with a sarcastic look, earning an eye roll out from him. You offer him the serving spoon to dish his food after you’ve dished some for yourself. “Thanks dad, but I think I’m fine.”

“Just telling you to be safe, Y/n.” John B defends himself, his hands up in surrender. “Don’t wanna see anything bad happen to you.”

“What happened to the whole kooks vs pogues thing? With the way some of these people have treated you, I’d say you deserve to be the one orchestrating robberies.”

“Got bigger fish to fry these days.” He shrugs, picking up some of his food on his fork. “And thanks for the food. Best meal I’ve had maybe ever.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m just saying, that kind of self control is amazing. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I don’t have as much of it as you might think.” He argues. “Standing next to JJ, maybe. Standing next to Pope? Not so much.”

“And you’re humble too? No wonder the kooks hate your guts.”

“You know, you’re not so bad either. I can’t imagine what they’d do to you if they knew how generous you’ve been to me.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.” You shrug. “The less I can be like them, the better.”

–

You both finish eating in a comfortable silence, the sun setting before you have the chance to double check the time.

“So, I’m assuming you’re spending the night…?”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m positive, John B. If I minded, I would’ve kicked you out hours ago.”

He stands beside you at the kitchen sink, helping you wash the dishes. It had been ages since he’d even touched a glass dish, let alone eaten off of one.

“If you insist, Y/n. How can I pass that up?”

You suppress a laugh as he nudges your side. “You can’t. You’re gonna get a good night’s sleep if I have anything to do with it. After the day you’ve had, I’m assuming you could use some sleep. You look tired.”

He cocks an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest to feign offense. “Do I, now?”

“Mhm.” You hum sleepily in response to his query.

“You look a little tired yourself, Y/n.” He observes jokingly. “But I guess that might have something to do with me. Sorry about dropping by so unexpectedly.”

“Don’t be. I like having someone around, even if you are being chased down by a treasure hunting psycho. You’re actually not that bad.”

“Uh, oh. Hallucinating already? Sounds like it’s time for bed.”

All of a sudden, he sweeps you off of your feet and carries you bridal style into the guest bedroom. You let out a shriek as soon as your heels leave the floor, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you hold on for dear life.

He gently places you on the neat duvet, gaining a sigh of relief from you. Your hand takes its sweet time to trail down his arm, your fingers grazing over his muscles. A lovesick smile pulls at your lips as you stare into John B’s eyes, receiving the same expression back while he looks into yours.

“I missed seeing you for so long, Y/n.” He admits, just barely above a whisper. “I wish I had stayed around longer. I always tried to get more jobs here so I could see you.”

“Really?”

“Of course I did. Do you think pool water chemistry needs to be checked twice a week?” He compliments with a smile that makes you feel weak, sitting down beside you. The tips of your ears warm at his words.

“Good to know.” You ponder aloud. “I totally didn’t bother my dad to keep hiring you because I liked you, either. So I hope you don’t think that.”

He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips turn up. “Ah, okay. Then I totally didn’t white lie to your parents about the pool checks because I liked you, either.”

You avoid his eyes, instead paying attention to the polish on your fingernails as you change the topic off of whatever’s going on between the two of you. “Is there anything else I can do for you, John B?”

“Kiss me and maybe I’ll feel better? I’m sure Ibuprofen works fine too, though.”

You really had to be delirious or something, as you obliged his request and kissed him. It was clear he didn’t expect it, but didn’t waste time relaxing into your touch. He places a hand to your cheek and deepens the kiss.

You both have matching drowsy smiles when you pull away. “Feel better?”

He sighs contentedly, head falling back on the pillow next to you. “I’m on my way.”

A yawn threatens to escape from you, so you take your last moments of consciousness to not let the moment pass. “If you ever need a hideout again someday, I’m your girl.”

He turns toward you, heart fluttering at your pretty face under the warm lights from the glow of the lamps on the nightstand. He couldn’t help but admire you.

“My girl.” He repeats to you in a mutter, thumb caressing your cheek. “I think I like the sound of that.”

Leaning forward just as the words left his mouth, you press your lips to his once again and kiss him with all that you could muster at the semi-late hour. Exhaustion makes for bravery you wouldn’t have otherwise. This time, John B smiles into the kiss.

“Good.” You murmur, thumb brushing over his lips once you pull away. “‘Cause I do, too.”

💌: this is meant to be a one shot so there’s no plans for another part, but i hope someone out there enjoyed. reblogs are very much appreciated :) thanks for reading!