#yeah this was completely unplanned

[princekoo]

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x reader

Genre: smut

Trope: city girl x farm boy

Warnings: bondage, name calling, bad writing

Word count: ~4.4k

A/N: yeah I have no words this came to me randomly while I was listening to country (something I never do) so here’s my first smut piece lol I haven’t written anything in MONTHS, so here is my baby I wrote in like 2 hours (also something I’ve never done before)💀 this is badly written bc it’s 2:30am and I cannot be bothered to proofread sorry

What does a woman running late for her job with less than a quarter gallon of gas and a horse have in common? Well, eventually they both run out of gas. Or was that just you? Probably. Here you were on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere trying to contact your job, your friends, anyone really. So much for a support system since your cries for help went unanswered before you completely lost battery. Yeah, you forgot to charge your phone after a night out with your friends, go figure.

You let out a resigned sigh as you sit in your car with the door open as the beautifully unpleasant waft of cow dung and freshly cut grass assaulted your senses. Fully giving up, you reach for the coffee you made 2 hours ago, grimacing at the relevation that it was now more like a nice cold coffee. Looking at the scenery, you tried to make yourself feel better. Hey, at least the cows are cute right? They’re staring at you with their beady little eyes, nothing behind them as they chewed away at some of the grass you strongly smelled. Just then, a cow came up close and you almost considered touching it like you would your cat Oreo, the sweet little thing. You refrained, of course, as you hadn’t hit a complete mental rock bottom at that point yet.

Just then, the cow took a huge dump right then to you, the smell from before intensifying due to obvious reasons.

You cursed the damned cow and fled the scene locking your car. That was definitely the motivation you needed to look for help nearby. Cows meant farms, right? And farms meant people. People that could help you get home. To Oreo. Or your dead end job. As you walked along the worn down fence separating you from the not-so-cute cows, you really took in your scenery. This was always a busy road as cars would often zoom by due to the scarcity of police officers in such a rural area as well as the naturally high speed limit of 60.

Nobody wants to get stuck here.

Literally no one.

It may be in the middle of nowhere, but it was quite nice. There was this thing called nature all around you if you ignored the 6 lanes that were present to your left, the 6 lanes you were speeding through only minutes before. The most of nature you usually get is the trees planted between pavement in front of your apartment building and your little cacti named Kiwi. This was kind of a nice change of pace, even if you hated to admit it.

Walking through dirt in heels is not ideal, but it had to do as you couldn’t stand the thought of dirt clinging to your feet, unknowing when you’d next take a shower. Even though you walked for an eternity, you could see no sign of life other than the few animals scattered throughout, which definitely didn’t calm your nerves.

You stopped for a second and leaned against the fence post, ignoring the possible germs it could bring with it, and blew raspberries as entertainment. You were really teaching your whits end. You may ask yourself, why don’t you flag down a car? Well, no. That’s why. We don’t do that around here.

Moving on, you continued your trek and went on for a bit more, thanking your decision to get comfortable heels. In the faint distance, you could see some sort of house structure. You squinted to better make it out and you realized it was a farm! It was quite a stellar incentive to increase the pace of your steps and you got to the entrance in only a few minutes.

You groaned in discomfort at the unusual amount of physical exercise you had to do this early in the morning and fixed up your appearance. Bun, redone. Skirt, straightened out. Shirt, saved from wrinkling. Sweat, gone. You marched up to the front door and knocked on the door only to be met with silence. You waited a few minutes until you knocked again. Met with the same reaction, you walked away and noticed an open gate. You walked towards it and sank into mud. Internally crying you marched on and looked out to see different farm animals. Horses, cows, sheep, pigs, anything you can think of was there. Whoever was running this shit meant business, you thought.

You struggled through the viscous mud and rounded a corner only to your greatest joy to find a person! Finally! With renewed vigor, you splashed until you could get in earshot of him.

“Hey! Hi! Uhm I broke down down the road and I was…” you trailed off as he turned around and you caught a glimpse of your possible savior. You were so consumed in your will to go home you never even surveyed who you were approaching. He had long, fluffy black hair that spilled over his forehead in curtain bangs and gorgeous silver dangling from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyebrow. A beautifully strong neck with a gorgeously buff body peeking out from the loosely hanging overalls he had on. His Timberlands were covered in mud and possibly fences but that didn’t deter you from appreciating the beauty of this specimen you found while you should’ve been at work. You almost were glad you broke down, if the consequences weren’t as bad as they are with your job. Almost. A goth cowboy farmer boy? You were signed up since the moment he turned around. His beautiful doe almond eyes shone as they looked at you in seemingly both surprise and concern.

“…iss? Miss? Are you okay?” You blinked a few times and willed yourself to snap out of it. You weren’t a teenager for goodness’ sake! You smiled bashfully and apologized, then explained your situation to the best of your ability. He nodded along and gasped at the right parts and you didn’t forget to include how your coffee had gone cold untouched. Offering his deepest condolences, he offered to make you coffee while you were tracking a bead of sweat running down his hairline onto his chest bones.

“Miss? Is everything alright? I think you’d better come inside, the heat could be getting to you.” You considered declining for a good few seconds before deciding, fuck it. You might as well. You took him up on his offer and he took you into his home. It was nicely decorated in almost a modern barn house way, but instead of white, the most common color was black. From the front door a loveseat was poised in front of a old-looking TV with an equally antique radio which emitted something you remembered from your ballet dance recitals you used to do. You nearly cringed, but kept scanning your eyes around. Next to you, on the opposite side of the living room area, was the dining room. Dark oak wooden chairs paired with a beautifully crafted table. What caught your attention was the fact that each table leg and every chair had intricately carved details, stories you remember you’d read as a child. You lightly grazed the nearest chair, admiring the craftsmanship before the man turned around after taking off his shoes and saw you halfway through his home.

“You like ‘em, miss?” You turned around a blushes slightly, caught in your act. You nodded, “yes, it’s gorgeous. Ive never seen something like this. Who made it?” You looked at him expecting a designer’s name or something like a neighbor gifted it to him but instead was met with, “oh I did, miss. My pride and joy. Spent a few months and then some on each piece.” Your eyes grew in size as your shock increased. You weren’t expecting it, but it also wasn’t too surprising. There’s not a single soul for miles around, after all. He chucked at your reaction.

“These are absolutely beautiful, uhm…” you looked at him in question. He lit up remembering he never told you his name, a shining smile crossing his face.

“Ah, name’s Jungkook, miss! Jeon Jeongguk. Sorry for not introducing myself sooner. And you are…?” You told him your name and smiled back, albeit a little more reserved than he was. He offered to make you some food and some coffee to replace the one you couldn’t drink, something which you pretended to ponder accepting before you gave him a resound yes. You’d take anything he gave you. Poison, food, a place to stay, his bed, his cock. Woah. Okay. Take a step back partner. You rounded the wall which separated the living room from the kitchen and surveyed the area once more. To your left there was a fairly new-looking kitchen with a table and two chairs. It definitely seemed like it had more worn and tear compared to the beautiful craftsmanship you’d had the opportunity to touch. The dark theme continued even with the fridge being a darker steel, the other appliances following. It all seemed pretty high tech, so it got you curious.

“Hey, do you have good electricity here?” He looked over at you from where he was whisking up something for you to eat and smiled, looking back down.

“Well, kinda…? Nothin’ like what ya get at the city I’ll tell you that, missy. Still works well enough, anyway.” You wondered how he got so much metal on him if he seems to speak like he’s never gone to the city, so it prompts you to ask, “how’d you get so many piercings this far out? If you don’t mind me asking of course.” He lets out a chuckle and turns his attention fully to you.

“Well, I have city friends. They come every once in a while. I been a country boy since I was kickin’, if ya wanted to know.” He humorously smiled and went back to his task. You sat down at the table, feeling everything shift slightly under your weight. You took out your phone and tried to see if by some miracle it started working, but to no avail. Looking up and seeing you, he remembered something he was going to tell you, eyebrows rising.

“Ah, missy! I forgot to tell ya! I got a land phone with connection you can use! It slipped my mind. And yeah, no, I don’t got any chargers. Sorry.” He answered quickly before you could even think to ask, but you were grateful for at least having a method of communication. You took him up on his offer and searched your brain for a possible phone number you could call. He took you to the antique method of communication and you dislodged it from its rightful place. The phone beeped as you punched in the numbers into the number pad. At least it isn’t a rotary phone. It rang for a few seconds before the other person picked up.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Hey mom, it’s me,” you informed.

“Oh my goodness, my darling! Ive been trying to reach you!”she exclaimed, worry evident in her voice.

“I know, I ran out of battery. A nice guy lent me his phone and I was able to call.”

“A nice guy, you say?” Her voice took a suggestive turn, a stark contrast to her earlier one.

“Mom, please. Im stranded like forty minutes away from the city.” You begged, hoping you could reason with her. Yeah, you were 25, but you didn’t need to settle down at that age! If only your mom didn’t think otherwise.

“Right. Well, I can go get you if you tell me where it is possibly uhhh…tomorrow? Tomorrow mornin—no! Afternoon! Sorry, work. Yeah.” You could hear her nervously scrambling to correct herself, knowing this was just some ploy to get you to know the guy.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Now hang tight and make a friend! Loveyoubye!” “Mo—!”before you could get another word in, she hung up. The line went dead and you hung it back up, leaning against the wall. You grimaced for the second time that day. She was really doing this to you. Well, the more you thought about it, the less bad it seemed. You were stranded in a farm with a hot goth boy who carved as a hobby and seemed to know how to cook. What’s better? Good in bed? God, how you wanted to find out.

Walking back towards the kitchen, you caught a glimpse of what you could only guess was his bedroom. His bed was dressed in black silk sheets which reflected the afternoon light and the rest of the room followed the dark theme. Before you took too long, you willed yourself towards the kitchen and sat down with a huff.

“What’d they say?”

“My mom said she can’t pick me up until tomorrow afternoon,” you groaned. He awwed at the statement and finished the preparations to his “simple meal”. He brought 2 plates and a cup in front of you, which you thanked him for before you surveyed the plates. The first bigger plate contained some what looked like chicken and a salad while the smaller plate contained a prettily plated apple pie. The cup, beautifully enough, contained some steaming coffee. Your eyes almost watered as you thanked him and began eating.

“Sorry I cant offer you anything better, miss. If i had know a pretty little thing like you would break down and need my help I would’ve been better prepared.” You blushed at his statement and commented on how good the meat and veggies were.

“Raised the meat and got the veggies from my garden myself! All pretty fresh, since I only killed the poor thing a day ago.” He exclaimed proudly, a sad quality to his voice after the second part. He cheered up pretty fast and said,” and I baked the apple pie a few hours ago actually! I hope you like it, too.” He finished. He was almost bashful. You complimented his food and he informed you he still had some stuff to do out in the farm.

“Ah! If you need any fresh clothes you can look through my stuff and find something,” he finished with a smile. You thanked him and continued eating as he walked out the house and went on with his day. The house was now silent save for the occasional animal noise and the movement of grass with breeze. Finishing your last bite of apple pie, you got up with the coffee and headed towards the assumed bedroom. He didn’t mention where it was, but you doubted he cared whether you looked through his stuff or not. Not like he was here anyway. You set the cup down on one of his dressers and rummaged for something to wear. The uniform was getting pretty stuffy in the heat of the house, so a nice shirt and some pants would do the trick. You took off all your clothes and considered taking off your underwear too. What if something ends up happening? You want to sleep with him so bad. Ultimately, you took everything off. Naked, you took his most see-through-looking white shirt and a pair of his boxers, the only bottom part that fit after tying it a bit. You ran your hands between your thighs to quell your excitement at not having any undergarments and lowly squealed. You hoped your pressing didn’t show how wet you were. You went out to find him with his shoes on, even if they didn’t fit. Hey, they felt like you were wearing your dad’s shoes, but it got the job done. You found him feeding the horses at the stable before what seemed like bath time, soap and a hose ready to go.

“Hey!” You exclaimed. He looked your way and immediately almost choked in surprise, his face turning red.

“I see you… uhm… got comfortable, miss.” He choked out. You internally grinned and nodded,” yeah these fit best and they’re quite nice. Is it okay?”you feigned innocence, pretending like you didn’t elaborately search for both of these pieces with a goal in mind. He shook his head and informed you he was doing exactly what you thought, bathing the horses. It seemed like he was doing that before you got here as he was on the last horse. You asked if you could help and he accepted, smiling humorously. At what, you don’t know. He let the hose run over the horse for a bit before he shut it off, something that gave you an idea. You were going to make it as messy as you could and try to get yourself completely wet, making the already almost see through shirt stick to your body. The perfect plan, if anyone asked you. It would make him want you, you were sure. At the very least start wanting you. What you didn’t know, is that he was restraining himself to the highest degree from pouncing on you right now. You were beautiful from the moment he saw you and he could tell you found him attractive. This act of dressing up in these kinds of clothes just further confirmed it. You lathered the horse in its special soap and made sure to stick to it accidentally, dampening your shirt. Your nipples poked from the cold and wetness and you could even see the pink of them. Jeongguk turned on the hose and you “accidentally” didn’t move out the way. You exclaimed in pretend shock and he immediately shut off the water and ran over to you. You were completely soaked and you feigned sadness over being all wet. He knew what you were getting at. He knew it wasn’t a mistake. He was onto you.

“Oh no miss! You didn’t move out the way! Sorry.” He feigned as well. You sulked a little and went to go back to giving the horse a second coat of soap when he caught you by your waist. He pushed your body against his and got close to your face, so much so you could count the freckles on his cheeks. You only squealed lightly from shock.

“I know what you’re trying to do, miss. You know, trying to be innocent doesn’t work on me,” he breathed out, voice husky. You blushed, not thinking you’d be found out so quickly.

“Let’s say we skip this part and get straight to business. What do you say?” He inquires, a raises brow making his piercing shine in the light. You nod and he presses harder.

“Yes. Or. No,” he presses. You breathe out a “yes” and he immediately smacks your mouth against his. His tongue makes his way into your mouth and both of your tongues dance together. He pats the horse and it starts to trot away, almost as if understanding it was a moment not for its eyes. He walks you back, still making out, until you reach what you think might be hay and he breaks the kiss only to press you down against it. Breathing heavily, he goes back for another kiss and begins moving his hands over your body. He touches your tits and squeezes them both, arousing a surprised moan from you. He breaks the kiss and begins flicking your hard nipples through the fabric.

“This is what you wanted, right? Right, little miss?” You moan in response and he spanks your tits.

“Give me and answer, missy.” You flush answer, “yes, this is exactly what I wanted please don’t stop.” He lowers his head onto your nipples and begins sucking them and moving them around, playing with them like they’re joysticks. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on. You can physically feel your juices dripping down your thighs. You moan feverishly, almost like you’ve never been touched by a man. He then, bites your nipple and stretches out before letting it go. Without warning, he presses against your center and you let out a choked moan.

“Look at you. I can feel how wet you are, baby. You haven’t had anyone as good as me, now have you?” He asks and you answer with a resound no. No man has ever been able to make you into a pool of goo and have you waterfall from your pussy like he has. He returns his assault on your clothed boobs while keeping pressure on your cunt and you cant take it anymore. You begin rubbing against his leg and he stops his manouvers completely. He stares at you as you rub against his leg like a bitch in heat, leaving a noticeable dark spot on his denim overall pants. He chuckles darkly and removes his thigh causing you to whine. He urges you to open your eyes, something you didn’t even know you had done, and held your face firmly to look straight at him.

“Did i say you could use me to get off? Hmm? You were rubbing against me like a fucking whore. Are you that desperate, huh? You wanna get fucked that badly?” He spoke so disrespectfully to you, but god. You fucking loved it. It was only a few seconds before you started to beg. “Yes, I’m your whore. I want your cock so badly, please.” He hummed at your answer and left you altogether. You protested only to be told to shut up. You did so, and was incredibly turned on in the process. He came back with what looked like restraints.

“I usually use these with the horses, but who would’ve thought I’d have to use them on some pretty little slut who stumbled across me today,” he smirked. You whined and playfully fought against his restraints, only to have his seat at your ass. The spank caused you to let out a long, lustful moan and it only made his Cheshire grin bigger.

“Oh? My sweet little bitch likes to be spanked too? Fucking look at you.” He finished restraining you, leaving your arms and legs unable to move.

“This is what you get for using me to get off without permission, missy. You left me no choice.” You whined and moves your pelvis up and down, trying to show him where you wanted him. He smirked and walked away again. You groaned in frustration again and he answered back,

“I’m gonna wash my hands, pretty. Im sure you don’t want any infections.” You simmered down and waited for his return, one that was swift. He smiled and looked at you only for a frown to overcome his face. You inquired him what was wrong and he said, “you’re wearing too many clothes.” Immediately after, he ripped his shirt apart and the boxers, both ruined garments falling limply besides you. He licked his lips looking at your body and surveyed your pussy, finding it dripping. He chucked and spanked your clit, something that made you jolt and moan.

“You’re dripping, baby. I’ve barely even done anything, too… hmm, well you’ve taken your consequences quite well, so why doesn’t little missy get a reward, eh?” You nodded enthusiastically and he smiled, ruffling your hair. Immediately he plugged up your begging hole with two thick fingers, causing you to howl in pain. Its been a while since you had anything in there. Soon enough, though, the whimpers of pain turned into moans of pleasure as he fingered you at a fast and hard pace while rubbing your clit. He was repeatedly hitting your g spot and you felt like you had to pee. Afraid to pee on him, you urged him to stop.

“H…hey J—Jeongg…ungh… Jeongguk…. I think I’m gonna… gonna… pee!” By the end of your sentence you were screaming as you watched clear juices spill out of you. That was new. “What we’re you saying?” He inquired with a smirk. As you panted, he lowered himself and began licking at your pussy. He ate you out with vigor you never knew in your life from past partners until he made you cum with just his tongue, without needing the aid of anything else. As you came down from your orgasm, he came up and kissed you as your juices ran down his chin. He looked you in the eyes and asked almost shyly, a stark change in demeanor, “you think I can fuck you?” You breathlessly chuckled and answered, “fuck yeah.”

He took off his overalls as soon as you said that, grinning madly. The lowering of the overalls showed his beautifully sculpted abs and pecs clearly and the lower he went the more you realized he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His dick sprung to life leaking precum from its pink tip. He took his hand and jerked himself a little before he lined up at your entrance and looked at you questioningly. You nodded and he went in slowly. Your juices made the ability for friction disappear and soon he started pounding into your weeping pussy. He reached down and choked you lightly as he began stimulating your clit again and you screamed in overstimulation. He didn’t give up and eventually you began feeling pleasure and his cock rammed into you relentlessly. He panted as he fucked into your cunt and your pussy squeezed his dick. You moaned in pleasure, despite your restricted air flow and he groaned from the feel of his dick fucking your pussy. Soon enough, you came to your end squeezing his dick like a python and he pulled it out. He jerked off and came over your stomach and tits covering them entirely.

“Fuck, if I had a phone I would’ve definitely taken a picture of this. You look beautiful like this, miss.” He panted and you chuckled breathlessly. You both stared at each other attempting to catch your breaths in silence. He was the first who broke it.

“So… wanna take a shower?”

[withered--s0uls]

Happy April Fools or whatever except I fear this isn't a joke anymore.

Please read the tags or something idk

[bikerboyfriend]

screenshot dump

[lowstakesvampires]

sometimes u just gotta draw ur newest ocs (at the time) interacting somehow

(from my old pink flowery sketchbook, 2017)

[daily-xb]

day 99: get slowed fish mans

@daily-ethoslab

[woundedheartwithin]

I think people look at me wearing all black with band tees and sneakers and 14mm tunnels in my ears and think I don’t know shit about horses. And like… I’ve had my gelding for a decade. I’ve ridden him basically everywhere in every situation you can imagine. Yeah, I’m a core kid, but I’m also a certified horse girl, and I have the back problems to prove it lmao

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

AU where Jason comes back to Gotham and begins his plan to confront Batman and all that. Except after only like a week the Joker gets hit by a bus and then shot by a little old lady with a shotgun and dies.

Jason’s plan is now in shambles because the dramatic climax of his plan is no longer possible. But that’s fine. He’ll think of some other suitable alternative. Granted, it’s not quite the same if he uses some other villain. Making Batman choose doesn’t mean nearly as much when it’s not about the person who killed him.

And really, is he going to try and get Batman to kill Black Mask or something? Scarecrow? Red Hood is competent; he could do it himself so why bother.

So Jason lays low continues to build his criminal empire with astounding speed and efficiency. If only he could think of a good way to announce his return. Nothing he can think of is dramatic enough.

Meanwhile, the Bats are freaking out because who is this guy that’s taken over half of the Gotham underworld in like a month? He’s obviously trained, but they just can’t seem to get any information on who he is or where he came from. It is beyond frustrating.

After a few months Jason is frustrated that he just can’t seem to find any dramatic good way of making Batman prove himself. It has to be something big! Something magnificent!

During his weekly chat with Talia he complains about his problems and she suggests he come back for a visit. He argues that he can’t just leave, but she says if he has competent enough lieutenants it’d be fine. He spends the next three weeks making sure that everything will be fine if he leaves for a week. He will not have all of his hard work falling apart and going to waste due to incompetence. Absolutely not.

So then once his lieutenants are sufficiently prepared (and the rest of Gotham’s criminal element sufficiently cowed), he heads to Nanda Parbat, only to find Ra’s on the phone with Bruce, who is demanding to know if the Red Hood has any affiliation with the league.

Oh. Oh. He can give them affiliation.

A new plan begins to form.

He’s going to be the most affiliated he can be. Jason immediately goes to Talia with his newest plan: Overthrow Ra’s and takeover the league. Talia whips out her forty step outline for overthrowing Ra’s and tells Jason she’s so proud of him.

Jason has a new goal now, so he gets to work. He checks on things in Gotham, but everything seems to be fine and there haven’t been any unplanned explosions so it should be fine if he stays here for a bit.

Taking over Gotham really was good practice, as it turns out. Thanks to Talia’s plans and previous foundational efforts the takeover happens in no time.

Meanwhile the bats are still freaking out. Red Hood hasn’t been seen in three weeks, he may or may not have league of assassins connections, and even in his absence his goons seem to be managing things competently.

Back in Nanda Parbat, Jason and Talia finish their takeover. And now, finally, he’s ready to confront Batman.

He arrives in Gotham as the new head of the league. His arrival is loud, elaborate, and dramatic enough to fulfill his inner theater kid’s dreams.

Batman is speechless. And not his usual grunts instead of words, but actual surprised speechless. Jason is alive?!?!?!?

Jason was not expecting all the tears. And hugs. And mother henning. Goodness gracious, this was not part of the plan.

Bruce is obviously struggling with Jason’s revelation that he took over the league, but the newest little birdie seems almost relieved at that(?) and Dick and Alfred both seem strangely proud. Whatever. Even Bruce seems to be at least mostly ignoring that for now.

Then someone asks him if he knows Red Hood. Jason blinks. Says that yeah, he knows Red Hood. Everyone seems to ease at that. One mystery solved. Jason quickly realizes that most of them have no idea he is Red Hood. Cass seems to be the only exception but also appears amused and willing enough to not mention it.

Dramatic appearance complete, Jason now has a new goal: see how long he can keep the bats (minus Cass and potentially Alfred) in the dark about his crime boss identity.

He will bribe Cass as much as it takes to keep her on board with the causing chaos plan, but she seems eager enough. Favorite sibling status definitely unlocked. (The whole killing thing is fought over at great length and a truce of sorts is eventually made)

David Cain is never heard from again.

Damian shows up at some point.

At least one league member has suddenly found themselves as an HR rep for Gotham criminals? They’re still not quite sure how that happened.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Vice.

Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.

Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1.6k

Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Italian food."

The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.

"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."

"Look, you asked the question, I answered."

He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.

"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"

She chuckles to herself before confessing.

"Super steamy period romances."

Everyone bursts into more laughter.

"Wait, what?"

"What kind?"

She's clutching at her sides as she answers.

"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."

Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.

"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"

"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."

He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.

"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.

"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."

"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"

"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.

"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"

You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.

"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."

He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.

"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."

You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.

"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.

"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."

He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.

"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."

He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.

"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"

He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.

"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."

His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.

"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."

"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.

"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.

"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."

You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.

"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"

The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.

"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."

You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.

"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.

"Yours is closer."

"Mine it is."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"

JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.

"What you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."

You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.

"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.

"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."

Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.

"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."

The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.

"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.

Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Relief.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"

You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.

"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"

His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.

His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.

You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."

"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"

The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.

Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.

"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."

Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.

"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.

You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"

You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.

"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.

You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.

"I'm your vice, aren't I?"

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.

"In your dreams, Alvez."

He nips at your neck before continuing.

"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."

You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.

"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."

Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.

Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.

[miley1442111]

shocker- a.hotchner

---------------------

---------------------

summary: you have some news for your husband.

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mild angst, happy ending :)

---------------------

Aaron had a day off. A day off from work, from paperwork, from travel. And he had you all to himself. 

---------------------

He woke up much earlier than you ever would, but instead of getting in his morning thirty-minute run, he stayed in bed with you, allowing himself a few extra minutes of sleep. God, you were gorgeous like this. Unconscious and unbothered, a soft smile on your face as you lay beside him in your shared bed. Most of the time he couldn’t even believe he knew someone like you, let alone married you. 

“You’re getting handsy Mr. Hotchner,” you chuckled, swatting his hand that had in fact, landed on your ass. 

He chuckled back. “I can’t appreciate my wife?”

You finally opened your eyes, only to roll them at him. He laughed and pressed a kiss against your cheek as you yawned, too tired from the long week to get up yet. 

“We should do something today,” he pressed soft kisses to your collarbone as you nodded to what he was saying. “Movie?”

“Nothing new is out,” you reminded him. 

“Park?”

“Jess isn’t a fan of the park anymore,” you yawned. 

“Shopping?”

You stared at him in bewilderment for a moment. “Are you insane?”

“Yeah, I guess that one was a long shot.”

“We could stay in bed all day,” you offered.

“As much as I would love that,” a harsh smack landed on your ass and you yelped. “We do have two children to look after.”

“Send them to Jessica’s,” you groaned. “We haven’t had any time together in months, Aaron. I adore our kids, but I also adore my husband, and I want to see him.”

Aaron’s heart swelled, and he needed no more convincing. “I’ll call her now.”

You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

---------------------

God, this day was more than needed. 

Sending Jack and Jessie off to their cousin's house meant you and Aaron had a whole morning to watch an entire film, without someone interrupting, then you got up and went to the farmer’s market together, and had a great time. 

“I love you,” you smiled, leaning over the centre console of the car as Aaron reversed out of your parking spot. He chuckled, then took your hand. 

“I love you too.”

“Aaron,” you smiled. 

“Y/n,” he responded, smiling cheekily. 

“Are you happy?” 

“More than anything,” he smiled. “I love our life, so much.”

“Do you want more kids?” you asked nervously. Truthfully, this is what today had been about. Four weeks ago, you found out you were pregnant. It was an accident, yes, but hopefully not a mistake. How ould he take it? Jess was planned completely and Jack had been planned too (granted, not with you but, you knew the Aaron Hotchener way). This was totally unplanned. You two were both busy people with busy jobs you loved a lot.

“Maybe in a few years-”

“I’m pregnant.” 

His mouth opened in shock, then close to a straight line. 

“You’re not happy,” you responded for him.

“I’m very happy,” he nodded. “Just… shocked and a little bit confused as to why you told me while I’m driving.”

You chuckled, but the rest of the car ride was silent and your anxiety grew. What if he wasn’t happy? What would happen? Had you ruined the day?

---------------------

You rushed inside the house and away from him, locking yourself in your bedroom under the guise of a nap. You had gotten a full 12 hours of sleep, and now, there you were with a head full of anxious thoughts and awful ideas. 

“Can I come in?” he knocked on the door, and you just mumbled a response. You heard him sigh and unlock the door from the outside, and everything came crashing down. Your eyes watered, and immediately wrapped you up in his arms with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you whispered, tears falling down your face. “It’s ok Aaron.”

“I’m happy about this,” he nodded, reassuring you. His hands cupped your cheeks, turning your attention towards him. “I’m just… surprised. Jess is only 2, and Jack is getting older everyday. I was just scared about the thought of having a newborn. I’m not unhappy, I’m just scared.”

“I’m really scared about this,” you admitted. “Our last pregnancy was less than… easy.”

“This time, I’ll be here the whole time,” he promised. 

“Aaron, you’ll be at work and so will I-”

“I’m leaving the BAU. I want to be here more,” he pulled you closer. “I want to be here for you and the kids.”

You stared up at him in shock. “Really?”

“Yes,” he smiled. 

"So you'll stay home with the kids?" You asked.

"I want nothing more," he smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

[omgeto]

☆ POSITIVE — baby daddy! GOJO SATORU

synopsis: after an unplanned one-night stand with a guy you didn't particularly care for, your lives takes an unexpected turn as you face the consequences of your actions. // angst to fluff, gojo being the best guy ever.

"are you gonna keep it?" he asks, his voice wavering. he rubs his hands against his face as though hoping the gesture might erase the weight of the words he’s just uttered.

when you had sex with gojo satoru, a single night filled with desperation and loneliness, you never thought you’d end up here — perched on the edge of his bathtub with a positive pregnancy test in hand. 

“i don’t know,” you mumble, focused on the word ‘positive,’ staring back at you, “this wasn’t what i thought i’d be doing on a monday night.”

his question hangs between you like a loaded gun, ready to fire off an argument you both know is inevitable. you look up at him, your gaze clashing with his, and the air seems to vibrate with unspoken tension. he stands there, framed by the doorway, his presence a stark reminder of the role he played in this mess.

"i never thought..." you continue, trailing off as the memories of that night replay at the edges of your consciousness. it's as if you're reliving every moment, every decision that has led to this point. you want to scream — to shake him and demand an explanation for how you ended up here.

gojo’s fingers drop from his face, revealing the vulnerability that lingers in his eyes. he steps closer, and his proximity feels suffocating. "we're in this together," he says, his words a contradiction to the distance that has always defined your relationship. "but it doesn't mean we have to agree."

the pregnancy test slips from your grasp, clattering to the floor. the sound echoing, filling the silence of the bathroom. your frustration boils over, and before you can think, the words spill from your lips. "this is your fault, you know. you're the reason we're stuck in this mess."

gojo’s gaze hardens, his brows furrowing in a mix of defence and offence. "my fault?" he scoffs incredulously. "last time I checked, it takes two to fuck. don't act like you didn't have a role in this."

anger courses through your veins, each word exchanged like a blow in an escalating fight. "oh, please. spare me your righteousness. you waltzed into my life, seduced me with your pathetic charm, and now I'm left dealing with the aftermath."

"you think this is what I wanted? you think I planned any of this? don't flatter yourself." his lips curl into a bitter smile, his pride taking a hit. “you were desperate. i was bored. and now we have a baby on the way.”

the tension in the room is a palpable force, the air thick with accusation and resentment. In this moment, you're not just arguing about the pregnancy — you're clashing over all the unspoken emotions that have festered between you since that night.

you both sigh, knowing that arguing wouldn’t detract from the fact that was laying on the bathroom floor. gojo joins you on the edge of the bathtub, hesitating before lightly brushing your arm with his. your eyes meet his and he pauses before saying, “look it’s gonna get us nowhere arguing like this. but despite what’s going on between us, i'm down with whatever you decide.”

“I think… i think i wanna keep it,” you whisper, surprising both yourself and gojo. but a smile etches onto his face, he was never going to force you into a decision but if he could pick – this is the one he wanted.

"you know," he begins, his voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of the hushed bathroom, "i never expected any of this. but... i won't deny that a part of me is... excited."

your eyebrows lift in surprise, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. his admission is unexpected, and it sends a surge of warmth through your chest. "excited? seriously?"

gojo's lips quirk into a playful grin, the tension from earlier completely evaporating. "yeah, seriously. I mean, think about it. this might not have been planned, but it's a chance for something new, something unexpected. i think we’ll make good parents.”

he could sense that you were still unsure, but now that you’ve revealed that some part of you wants this, he was determined to make you keep those thoughts. “like i said earlier, we’re in this together,” he says, his voice soft and resolute, “no matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”

“thank you.” a genuine smile graces your lips. maybe the circumstances are far from ideal, but there's something undeniably comforting in the way he's willing to stand by your side. 

gojo squeezes your hand gently, his excitement still evident in his eyes. "no need to thank me. just promise me that, whatever happens, you'll let me be a part of it." his earnestness touches you in a way you hadn't anticipated. the future is still uncertain, but in this moment, you know that he wants this.

"i promise," you reply, your voice steady and filled with a newfound determination.

"can i?" gojo asks, his eyes flickering with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. his gaze shifts from your eyes to your stomach, his hands poised as if awaiting permission.

you chuckle softly at his eagerness, a small smile playing on your lips. "although i'm pregnant, i think at this point what's inside of me is just a blob," you point out, trying to temper his enthusiasm with a dose of reality.

gojo's lips curl into a playful grin, undeterred by your practicality. "yeah, i know, but still…" he trails off, his hands inching closer to your abdomen.

you give him a nod of assent. his touch is surprisingly gentle as his hands settle on your stomach, warm against your skin. it's a simple gesture, but the weight of it is profound — an unspoken acknowledgment of the life growing within you.

for a moment, time seems to stand still as you both share the quiet intimacy of the moment. his eyes remain fixed on your stomach, a mixture of awe and wonder dancing in his eyes. it's as if he's trying to connect with the tiny being that's taking shape inside you.

"can you believe this?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and disbelief. "life, right here."

you look down at your stomach, marvelling at the life that's indeed taking root within you. it's a surreal feeling — one that's difficult to put into words. "yeah, it's pretty incredible."

his touch remains on your stomach, a constant grounding force amidst the rush of emotions that envelops you both."it might be a blob now," he says, his voice soft yet earnest, "but it's our blob."

a laugh bubbles up from within you, a mixture of amusement and affection. "our blob, huh?"

he nods, his expression earnest as he meets your gaze. "yeah, our blob. and who knows? maybe someday, we'll look back on this moment and remember how it all started."the tenderness in his words is palpable, and a warmth blossoms in your chest. despite the uncertainties that lie ahead, there's a shared optimism between you.

as gojo's hands remain on your stomach, you lean in slightly, your head finding the crook of his shoulder. his embrace is reassuring, his touch a steady reminder that, no matter what comes next, you won't be facing it alone.

AN: SO GUYS WHAT DO YOU THINK? LMK UR THOUGHTS. im thinking of making this like a little au, where I just do a series drabbles/one shots of life with your bd!gojo. so if you have any thoughts, ideas, requests send me them. ALSO DONT USE MY DIVIDERS PLS AND THANKS &lt;3 also thanks @kazushawty for the beta read love ya.

[amidnightjen]

The man who opens the door is not her brother. He’s just as tall as she remembered Evan being but he’s dark haired and brown eyed and a complete stranger.

He’s also holding a baby in one arm. It’s the baby who holds her gaze. Soft blonde curls, startling blue eyes and a tiny little birthmark.

“Can I help you?” The man asks, growing at her and then shifting his baby slightly further out of her reach as though he’s worried she’s going to snatch the little girl and run.

“I’m looking for Evan,” she tells the man.

“He’s not here.”

“Oh. Sorry, I, uh - he lives here, though? Evan Buckley?”

“Yeah,” the man confirms slowly. “Who are you?” He still sounds wary and she feels so wrong footed. She hadn’t really thought much beyond running, beyond finding her baby brother.

“I’m Maddie,” she says, and even as she does, she wonders if it will even mean anything to this man. This man who is holding a tiny little baby version of Evan.

But the man’s eyebrows shoot up and he takes a step back, not to protect himself further, she realises, but to give her room to come inside. “Oh, wow, uh, you should come in.”

“I can wait out here,” she offers, still remembering his earlier caution.

The man snorts. “And let him come home and find you waiting outside? Nah, he’d kill me.”

“He might not want to see me,” she cautions because she has to prepare herself for the the possibility that he won’t want to see her.

The man snorts. “I’m Eddie by the way,” he introduces, shutting the door behind her. He bounces the baby in his arms gently, adding, “This is Maddie.”

The sob that tears out of her is unplanned and raw.

Maddie.

Evan named his daughter Maddie.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 6) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Visit to an Obstetrician; Medical Inaccuracies Just in Case; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake go to your appointment together. And then you sit down to tell Maverick the news.

Series Master List

Master List

Jake had never quite felt so far out of his depth than when he was sitting alone in a gynecological office. 

You had gone back with the medical assistant, who told him that he was supposed to wait in the waiting room until someone came and got him. And so, Jake was just sitting there, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. He had awkwardly made eye contact with a girl who was in college, who stared at him like he was an invader, and Jake hadn't dared to pick his head up since.

A little squeal tore his eyes from his phone and over to where the only other man in the room was sitting. The man was probably around Jake's age, mid-thirties, but unlike Jake, he looked completely at ease in his seat.

Maybe that had something to do with the little girl in his arms.  

“Where’s Mommy?” the girl asked her dad. 

“She’s talking with the doctor about your little brother. You’ll see her in a little bit.”

“Okay,” the girl returned, pressing her hand against her dad’s face, causing him to chuckle and grab her hand, pressing a kiss to it before dropping it again. “Can we get blueberries?”

“You want blueberries?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t have any on me, sweetie, but you can have some when we get home, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, sending her dad a cheek-scrunching smile. 

“Jake?” a voice called, making Jake realize that he had been staring. 

Turning to see the medical assistant from earlier standing at the door, he quickly stood up. Jake followed her back through the halls to the room where you were seated on an exam table. You smiled at Jake as he walked over to your side. 

“Hey,” you greeted him as he sat down. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Jake assured you, nodding slowly. "My first time at a gynecologist. Just a little nervous, that's all."

"I promise to not poke and prod you," your doctor joke, turning to Jake. "I'm Dr. Jennings. It's nice to meet you."

"You as well," Jake returned politely.

"Alright, now let's get to what you two came here for," Dr. Jennings replied, standing up with a kind smile.

You shifted the patient gown and Dr. Jennings covered your small bump in a clear gel. You shifted a bit and glanced over at Jake, who seemed to still look like a fish out of water. Which, for a large man who usually radiated confidence, was a rare sight to see.

"Let's take a look now," Dr. Jennings stated, causing you and Jake to turn to the monitor.

There were a lot of random shapes and movement on the screen and Jake half-wondered if he was in some kind of delusion that he was going to wake up from. But then the image on the screen shifted and Jake didn't need your hand suddenly reaching out for him to tell him what he was seeing on the screen. Jake took your hand in his own, subconsciously holding his breath for a moment.

“And here’s your baby.”

Jake wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to see when he walked in there. He wasn’t exactly a scholar on pregnancy. It was supposed to just look like a little ball, right? He thought so. But that image in front of him, there was a clearly defined head. The rest of it wasn’t too clear, but that was definitely a baby. A baby human. Your baby human. His baby human. Your shared baby human.

"Everything looks normal," Dr. Jennings reported, moving the wand around a bit.

You turned to Jake with a relieved smile, and he shot you one back, trying to not let his nerves show. You turned back to the monitor as Dr. Jennings pressed a few buttons.

“And here’s the heartbeat.” 

She flipped a switch and suddenly the distinct sound of a heartbeat, though one that was much faster than Jake was expecting, echoed around the room. Jake looked up, a shocked expression on his face because it was one thing to just see the baby, but to hear them just made it all the more real.

"Is it supposed to be that fast?" Jake asked, turning to Dr. Jennings, who smiled in return.

"Yes, your baby's heartbeat is perfectly normal. And very strong. You might have a little fighter on your hands."

"Wouldn't surprise me," you mused, staring at the screen while you listened to your child's heartbeat.

Jake turned away from Dr. Jennings and took a moment to stare at you as you took in the moment. You had been nervous when he met you in the parking lot with your Notes app pulled up to your list of questions for your doctor. But whatever happened before Jake showed up must have settled you and now, with your baby moving right in front of you and their heartbeat echoing in their ears.

And you, well, you looked like you were glowing.

And even though he heard that the term “glowing” wasn’t accurate to describe a pregnant woman, he couldn’t come up with a better one. You were absolutely, positively glowing.

“So, I would put you at about fourteen weeks,” the obstetrician explained to you, causing you to turn away from the monitor. “I’m just going to take some measurements, but please feel free to ask any questions that you have.” 

“So, everything looks healthy and happy?” you immediately asked, sitting up a bit. 

“We’re still waiting on your blood results, but everything else appears to be normal. The heart rate is good. Very strong. They seem to be measuring well. I don’t have a clear look at any signs of gender yet—they seem to not want to cooperate—but how did you want me to mark the file? Did you want to wait, or did you want to know as soon as possible?” 

Jake turned to you immediately as you slowly moved your head to meet his gaze. The two of you had a silent staring contest. You didn't even think that it was going to be an option to find out the gender at this appointment. You had mentioned it in passing, but Jake never commented on it.

“It’s your call,” Jake stated, nodding slowly. “I’m fine either way.” 

You nodded slowly before turning back to the obstetrician, who was typing away at your chart. After a moment of thought and another glance over at Jake, you made your decision.

“We’ll wait, please. Maybe for the birth or maybe at a later date,” you replied softly.

“Well, feel free to tell me at every appointment either way. Or you can call the office too, if you change your mind,” the obstetrician assured you with a supportive smile. “And did you want any photos of the ultrasound from today?”

“Please,” you answered immediately.

“How many copies?”

“Two, please,” you replied, glancing over at Jake. 

Dr. Jennings talked with you about your diet and exercise and your future appointments before she excused herself. Sitting up, you grabbed some paper towels from the patient cart and cleaned yourself up while Jake sat there a bit awkwardly. You got redressed, with Jake averting his eyes respectfully, before the two of you headed out of the examination room together.

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked softly, causing you to look at him.

“Well, it’s nice to know a little bit now,” you returned as Jake held the door open for you. “Not just a guessing game about if everything looks okay or not.” 

You made your way over to the patient window to make your next appointment and sign a few things. Jake lingered by the door, waiting patiently for you, when the father and daughter that he saw earlier in the waiting room walked past with a very pregnant woman. The three of them were all beaming with happiness that Jake couldn’t help but stare after them, wondering if you and him and your little baby would look like that one day--happy.

“Jake,” you called, causing him to snap his head around again. 

You smiled softly and held out a small square photo, which he took very carefully into his own grip. Holding the small photo in his hand, Jake just stood there and stared up at the little, tiny human that was half him and half you that was so impossibly small that he was afraid of even looking at the image for too long for fear of risking the baby's safety. 

“You okay?” you asked, finally bringing Jake out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured you, picking his head up. “And you?”

“Better than I was a week ago,” you returned, giving him that smile that he could only describe as ‘glowing’ once again. “Are you sure that you’re good? You’ve been really spacey lately.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake promised you as the two of you walked out of the office. "I'm fine."

The two of you stepped out into the warm San Diego air as Jake carefully held the ultrasound photo in his hand. But staring down at the photo one more time, Jake turned to you with a more serious expression. 

“Are you still planning on telling Maverick soon?”

“I told him to come over to my place on Friday,” you explained, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m already into my second trimester. It’ll only get harder to hide and I would rather be able to tell everyone on my terms. Our terms.” 

“It’s your call,” Jake repeated, glancing around the parking lot as you came to a stop beside your car. “Your family, your rules.” 

“Thank you,” you returned, fiddling with your fingers. “Why don’t you come over around five? I told Maverick six, so that should give us some time to prepare and plan and take some breaths. He usually shows up late, anyways.” 

“I’ll see you Friday, then,” Jake replied, causing you to nod slowly. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you returned, offering him another glowing smile. “Bye, Jake.” 

Jake watched you climb into your car before turning for his truck. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, you pulled out of the parking lot, heading back to your apartment. He watched you go before looking down at the ultrasound photo once again.

 Letting out a breath, he pressed his head back against the headrest before carefully placing the photo on the passenger’s seat. Starting his truck, Jake pulled out into the afternoon sun, trying to not get lost in his thoughts. For the thousandth time since he found out that he was going to be a father. 

~~~~~

You rushed around your apartment, cleaning and finishing up with the cooking. Jake came over to help you set up about an hour ago, but after you rearranged everything that he already did, Jake just decided to stay out of your way. You were very clearly on the edge of a mental breakdown, and he didn’t want to risk pushing you over the edge before Maverick even got there. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to sit down for a bit?” Jake asked as you checked on the food cooking in the oven. “You’re going to put yourself out.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, pulling the tray out of the oven. “Just a little nervous, that's all.”

Wiping your hands on a towel, you looked up when there was a knock at the door. Turning to Jake, you motioned for him to go and hide in your bedroom for a little bit. Adjusting your dress, which you bought purely because the pattern hid your figure very weel, you walked over to your front door. You took a final deep breath to calm yourself down before pulling the door open, revealing Maverick and Penny.

“Hey, Mav, Penny. Thanks for coming.”

“I’m not going to say ‘no’ to a home cooked meal,” Maverick replied, pulling you in for a hug in greeting. You hugged him back tighter than usual, which caused Maverick to pause. Returning the squeeze, he asked, “You alright, honey?”

 “Yeah, of course,” you returned softly, peeling yourself away from him. “Come on in. Dinner’s all done.”

Maverick shared a look with Penny, who shrugged in response, before walking into your apartment. He moved towards the dining area and paused when he spotted four plates set out on the table. Penny moved to take her seat, but Maverick stayed standing, staring down the extra plate suspiciously. 

“Are Rooster or Emma joining us?”

“Uh, no,” you replied, carrying over some food to the table. “I actually have some news, Mav.”

“A boyfriend?” Maverick assumed, causing you to pause before nodding slowly. 

You and Jake hadn’t really put a label on your relationship. Not even after you found out about the baby. But even though you weren’t together romantically right now, he was definitely something. And honestly, he was already more committed than any of your previous boyfriends or flings.

“Well, where is he then?”

A set of slow footsteps caused Maverick to turn his head in time to see Jake walking towards him. Jake lacked his usual confidence, but he wasn’t exactly cowering to Maverick's gaze, even if he was sweating through his shirt a bit. A splash of surprise flashed across Maverick's expression before he steeled it once again.

“Sir,” Jake decided on, causing Maverick to raise an eyebrow. 

“Hangman,” Maverick returned evenly. He glanced between the two of you before finally turning to you. “So, how long has this been going on for?”

“A few months.”

“Alright,” Maverick responded calmly, moving to take his seat. He sat down beside Penny, shared a look with her, before turning to you again. “You still have beer here?”

Penny lightly smacked the back of her hand against Maverick’s chest, but Jake moved to collect a beer for Maverick. If only to have an excuse to leave the awkwardness for a moment. The four of you slowly sat down for dinner and Jake chose to forgo an alcoholic drink for himself to make your decision to not drink less obvious. Dinner was passed around as an awkward silence settled in the room.

“So, Hangman,” Maverick started off with, “what are your intentions with my goddaughter?”

“Mav. This isn't 1986."

"It's a fair question," Maverick defended himself.

“Well, I do see a future with her if that’s what you’re asking,” Jake ventured, being very careful with his words. 

“You’re serious about this relationship?”

“Very much so.”

You glanced nervously between Jake and Maverick as Maverick seemed to stare Jake down for a moment. Mav reached for his beer, took a sip, and then turned back to his plate, as if it was a casual conversation. 

“Well, I will not sugarcoat my opinion that I think dating one of your brother’s teammates is not a good idea,” Maverick told you, causing you to wince. “It can get complicated quickly and even more messy.”

“We know, Mav,” you replied quietly. 

“And quite honestly Hangman, you were not my first choice.”

“I figured,” Hangman stated, nodding slowly. 

“You weren’t even on the list.”

“Mav,” you interjected to Jake’s defense. "You don't have to be rude to him about it."

“That being said,” Maverick replied, getting the conversation back on track, “if you’re happy, that’s all that I care about.”

“Yeah, of course I am,” you responded defensively.

Maverick looked up from his plate, staring you down with a concerned expression. Looking away from him, you smoothed your hands down your thighs, trying to not let your nerves show. Apparently, your words weren't convincing enough for Maverick.  

“Are you?” he repeated softly. 

“I have something else to tell you, Mav,” you admitted after a moment, voice barely above a whisper. 

Maverick glanced suspiciously and with an underlying threatening glare over at Jake before turning back to you for your explanation. You summoned your courage and pushed down your anxiety before finally letting out your secret. 

 “I’m pregnant.”

Maverick immediately dropped his fork onto his plate, causing a loud clattering noise to echo around your apartment. You winced at the noise and sunk a bit farther in your seat. Jake reached over and grabbed your hand under the table, offering you a reassuring squeeze, but you were frozen, staring at Maverick as you waited for the bomb to drop right on top of your dinner table. 

Penny turned to Maverick, resting her hand on his arm to try and ground him. He himself looked like he was having a momentary stroke at the news that you were pregnant. With Hangman's baby because you just had to give him a heart attack while he was already having a stroke.

Maverick’s first emotion was fear. 

Fear that it wasn’t what you wanted or that it would somehow lead to a situation that you would regret later on. One that he could have helped prevent in the first place, if he had been paying attention. Fear that something could go wrong or would go wrong and there wouldn’t be anything that he could do to help you. Carole had relatively easy pregnancies, but that didn't mean you would. Fear that you weren’t prepared for this because this baby was clearly unexpected and fear that you wouldn't be prepared when it finally came time for the baby to be born.

 And Maverick’s second emotion was anger. 

How could you be so reckless? He had Penny and Sarah give you the talk. He took you to the doctor to get you on birth control when you were seventeen at your request. Did you just forget to take the pill? Did condoms suddenly go off the shelves? It wasn’t like you were a dumb teenager anymore. And of all the guys to knock you up, it had to be Hangman? Really? Hangman?

Maverick was also ready to launch over the table at the dumb, reckless pilot who just potentially ruined your life and certainly changed it forever. Because Hangman wasn’t a dumb teenager either. He knew what a condom was, and he should have used one. He should have carried his weight with that. And if Hangman even thought about running out on you and the baby, Maverick would set him straight. Personally. 

But when Maverick finally locked eyes with you again, his anger broke in an instant. 

He saw your fear. He saw your concern. There was nothing that he could say in that moment that you hadn’t already anticipated and stressed yourself out about. And him yelling at you and threatening Jake wasn’t going to solve the problem. It wasn’t going to solve anything. It was just going to make it worse.

Letting out a breath to release what was left of his anger, Maverick turned back to you with a calmer expression. Penny gave his arm a squeeze, feeling him calm down with time. 

“You’re healthy? Both you and the baby?” he stared off with.

“Yeah, we’re healthy,” you assured Mav, nodding slowly to confirm. 

“And you made this decision on your own? No one forced you to make this decision, right?” Maverick asked you seriously.

“Well, we didn’t plan this,” you replied, sharing a look with Jake, “but yes, I made this decision and Jake’s supportive of my decision, so we’re in this together now.”

“And you’re happy?” Maverick questioned you. 

“Once it’s all out in the open, I will be,” you replied honestly. "It's just a lot of anticipatory stress right now."

“Bradley doesn’t know?”

“No,” you stated softly. 

“Are you planning on telling him soon?”

“I was thinking hopefully this weekend or next weekend. I’m already farther along than I was expecting. I won’t be able to hide this news for too much longer.”

“How far along are you?”

“Fourteen weeks.”

“So, you’ve been to the doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have an ultrasound photo?”

Nodding slowly, you stood up from the table and tried to not let out a sob in relief. You moved to grab the ultrasound photo that you hid in your room, leaving Hangman alone with Maverick and Penny for the first time since you broke the news. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Maverick raised a hand to stop him. 

“We will have a separate conversation later, Lieutenant," Maverick stated, quiet enough that you didn't hear him.

“Pete,” Penny sighed, turning to him. “He’s here and involved. It’s not like he’s a deadbeat.”

“Later,” Maverick repeated as you returned from your bedroom. 

You walked around the table and handed the ultrasound photo to Maverick, who took it carefully. You stood beside him, nervously fiddling with your fingers. There was still a chance that Maverick would show how upset he was, so you were still a little on edge. Maverick stared down at the photo, the reality of the situation hitting him all over again, before turning back to you. 

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“We don’t know yet. We wanted to wait.”

“Well, either way they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, they are,” you replied, your shoulders shaking as tears slowly slipped out of your eyes. 

“Hey,” Maverick called softly, handing the photo to Penny before standing up and pulling you into a supportive hug. Tucking your head under his chin like he did when you were a little girl, Maverick assured you, “Hey, everything will be okay.”

“I was just so worried you’d be so pissed and disappointed in me,” you choked out, burying your face into Maverick’s shoulder. “That you’d tell me I was making the worst mistake of my life.”

“You know that there's nothing that would stop me from being there for you, right? You know that, right?”

“I know, Mav. I was just scared.”

“You shouldn’t stress yourself out over me. I’m always going to be here to support you.”

“Thanks, Mav.”

After you and Penny shared a tight hug as well, you made your way back to Jake’s side of the table and sat down. You wiped the lingering tears from your cheeks and shot Jake a small smile before turning back to Maverick and Penny.  

“So, have you discussed anything yet about the future? With each other?” Maverick asked, folding his hands in front of him.

“Like what?”

“Like what is your living situation going to look like?” Maverick started off with. “Are you both moving into Jake’s apartment? Are you getting a new place together?”

“Why didn’t you mention my apartment?” you asked, confused.

“Well, it’s not exactly a nice building for kids. And you don’t have a tub for the baby. And you know how I feel about your landlord."

“And your sink still leaks,” Jake added, causing you to shoot him a look. "And the elevator's broken half the time."

“And did the landlord ever fix that faulty wiring?” Maverick asked, causing you to narrow your eyes.

"So, you'll agree with him when it's convenient for you?" you questioned Maverick.

“My house is always open,” Maverick suggested, avoiding the question. You sighed and stared at him with an exasperated expression. “Bradley and Emma are moving out in two weeks and the spare bedroom can be all yours. And there’s room for Jake on the pullout couch in the living room.”

“I think what Pete is trying to say,” Penny cut in, shooting Maverick a look, “is that babies take up a lot of space and you don’t want to be worrying about home improvement projects while you have a newborn at home.”

“What about finances? Are you creating a joint account? Are you splitting it up piece by piece?" Maverick suggested, moving on down his list. "Are you getting married?”

“Mav,” you hissed, feeling some heat crawl up your neck at his question. "No, we're not getting married."

Maverick paused, tapping his fingers on the top of the table for a moment. He had an unreadable expression on his face, and it only made you concerned. Looking between the two of you, he turned first to Hangman. 

“What is she allergic to?” Maverick asked him. 

“Uh . . .” Jake stumbled a bit, “. . . shellfish?”

“Pollen,” Maverick corrected Jake before turning to you. “When’s his birthday?”

“October 27th?”

“21st,” Jake mumbled under his breath, causing you to wince. 

“What’s her blood type?” Jake didn’t answer immediately and looked a bit like a fish out of water, so Maverick turned straight back to you, “What’s his hometown?”

“Austin, Texas," you answered confidently.

“I was born in Austin but technically I grew up outside of it,” Jake replied, causing you to sigh. 

“Are you two even dating?” Maverick asked, looking between the two of you. "Do you even like each other?"

“Yes,” you both replied, causing Maverick to sigh and hold his head in his hands for a moment. 

“You two need to take some time and get to actually know one another. Forget about everyone else in this equation. If the two of you aren't strong, the whole thing falls apart.”

Picking his head up again, Maverick turned to Jake first.

“You need to know her medical information like the back of your hand. If something happens and she can’t advocate for herself, you need to be ready to give that information.”

Maverick turned to you next while Jake squirmed beside you.

“And you need to have full trust in him if you’re going to raise a kid together. If he's going to be in the delivery room with you. And how are you supposed to trust him if you don’t even know him?” Maverick leaned back in his seat and looked between the two of you, who both appeared like scolded children, before letting out a breath. Thinking over his words carefully, Maverick leaned forward a bit. 

“All that said, I will help you out however I can. But you two need to put in the work yourselves. This isn’t about you anymore. This is about your child. And the two of you need to start working together and having difficult conversations."

You and Jake slowly picked up your heads and shared a look before turning back to Maverick and nodding slowly. 

"And you need to tell your brother," Maverick told you, "becauase it's going to be worse if he finds out from anyone else."

"I know, Mav. I know."

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[vallification]

"womanly advice" // JJK AU PT. 2!

incl: satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, choso kamo (all separate)

content: fluff, flirting, kissing, confessions, drinking

wc: 5.5k

please like, reblog, and tell me your thoughts!!!

satoru gojo

the plan was to meet gojo at the park saturday evening, which gave you wednesday night, all of thursday, all of friday, and the majority of saturday to gather your thoughts (AKA have a silent, 64 hour anxiety attack) before talking to him. both of you figured that it was a good idea to wait until the meeting to say anything else, completely cutting communication between the two of you until saturday. in theory, it was a good idea, but in practice, it completely sucked.

from thursday morning when you last spoke to him to now, friday night, you’ve felt stuck in place. for the past eight hours, you've been sitting on your couch, wrapped up in a blanket, mindlessly entranced in the worst c-list movie marathon you’ve ever seen as you anxiously await saturday evening, just as you have been since thursday. although the exchange of apologies between you and gojo alleviated some of your anxiety regarding your friendship, it didn’t do anything to clarify what actually happened. the actual conflict.

what if he says that he was just messing with you? what if he says he was just teasing you because you’ve been so dodgy and moody? what if he starts telling you about the actual person he’s been referencing to in regards to your advice? what if you acted this way for nothing because he can’t even pick one out of the hordes of women wrapped around each of his long, calloused fingers? what if what if what if what if what if—?

three soft knocks on the front door of your apartment interrupt your mind’s endless cycle of what ifs. it’s half past midnight, and you’re not expecting anyone, but you assume that it’s shoko. on occasion, she’d show up to your apartment to stay over when she couldn’t get to sleep at her own, but surely she’s not calling it a night already, right? who knows, you think to yourself as you make your way to let her in, unassuming and oblivious to who’s actually standing just outside your door.

“hey,” gojo greets, his voice as lively as usual. hanging from one of his strong arms is a few plastic convenience store bags, which you’re sure are filled to the brim with various sweets, and there’s something so distinctly him about that fact that you almost smile. a black hoodie, gray sweats, and sneakers have replaced his usual day clothes, the latter being the only thing distinguishing his outfit from pajamas. if you weren’t so shocked by his random, unplanned visit, you’d wonder if they are his pajamas.

one of his large hands rubs at the back of his neck where his undercut meets smooth, pale skin as he awaits your reply, but you can’t manage anything more than a near silent, “hey.”

“i know we planned to meet tomorrow, but i couldn’t sleep, so…” he trails off, nervously switching his weight from foot to foot on your welcome mat. to prevent any further embarrassment from your mumbling idiocy, you clear your throat and try to form a sentence.

“that’s— no, it’s fine, satoru. is everything okay? did something happen?” idiot. obviously he would have called if something actually happened. you hope he doesn’t see the way you cringe at yourself, but he does. “do you want to come in?”

“everything’s fine,” gojo reassures, now shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie to pick at the rough, peeling skin near his nails. “can i? i mean, i could have picked a better time to show up. would’ve been super awkward if you had someone over,” he huffs with a humorless (okay, slightly humored) laugh.

“oh yeah, like who? my mom?” you play along, attempting to ease both gojo’s nerves and your own. moving to open the door further, you step aside and gesture for him to enter, and you realize you’re in your own ragtag set of “pajamas,” consisting of an old stained t-shirt and boxer-style shorts. embarrassing. gojo grins down at you as he steps in, and to evade his eyes you make a show of locking the door once you close it.

“mmm, definitely wouldn’t be your mom. she’s at my place,” gojo replies coolly, still wearing that stupid grin, pushing his black blindfold up to his hairline like a headband. “she’s had a looooong day.”

squinting your eyes as you inspect him, looking up and down his figure once, twice, three times, you shake your head and wince. “surely not that long,” you sing-song.

as gojo kicks off his shoes by the door, you make the most of his occupied time and head back to your spot on the living room couch, wrapping yourself back up in your blanket. being able to banter back and forth has calmed you down enough to not feel like you’re submerged in liquid nitrogen, but you’re 85% sure your socks have holes in them, so you cover up anyway.

“you’d be surprised,” gojo sing-songs back, his eyes shallowly scanning what he can see of your apartment as he slowly makes his way to join you on the couch. it’s clean, he notes, nice and neat, but still warm and lived-in. it smells good, too, courtesy of your candle addiction. from where you sit, he looks like a giant, towering over your couch before plopping down to sit, dropping the plastic bags between the two of you.

“i doubt it,” you reply, outwardly smug but inwardly screaming. nervous, your fingers find and pick at a loose thread at the corner of your blanket, trying to find something to pour their antsy energy into. time to change the subject. “anyway, you’re like, the king of sleeping. why can’t you fall asleep?”

“well,” he starts, pausing for the sound of crinkling plastic as he opens a pack of blue gummy sharks, placing one on your covered knee, and tossing two into his mouth. “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

the way gojo says it makes it sound so simple, so matter-of-fact, as if it wasn’t a confession of some sort. part of you wonders if he’s still teasing you, because you know that he knows how to make even the slyest people seem the most gullible, and everyone knows that vulnerability is not something he’s partial to. you don’t say anything back, but you gingerly pick up the gummy shark and bite off its tail.

“i’m also confused,” gojo says once he swallows his mouthful of blue gummy sharks, proceeding to throw two more into his mouth and place one on your knee. he’s carefully inspecting another gummy, tracing its elementary-level anatomy with his eyes to keep them busy and away from you as he talks. “why did it make you so upset when i said it was you?”

and there it is, laid bare and plain in the space between you. it’s your turn to speak because you know that question isn’t rhetorical, but you don’t let the pressure con you into a rushed answer. as you think, you bite at the poor inside of your bottom lip, a bad habit which will definitely leave it raw and sore tomorrow.

“because it felt like you said it as a joke,” you answer before biting the tail off of the second shark. “like you think the possibility of that is so low that it’s funny.”

more silence ensues. it’s tense, but not tense in the same way last friday night was tense. it’s not aggressive, awkward, or commanding, but rather nothing more than a side effect of the earnesty of the situation. another blue gummy shark is placed on your knee.

“why would it be a joke?”

“why would it not be? you know that you’ve got some of the most beautiful, smart, talented women in the world wrapped around your fingers,” you reply plainly, neither snarky nor sappy. when you look up from your fidgeting hands, gojo is inspecting another gummy. “and you know that i have feelings for you. it could be framed as a joke.”

“i didn’t know that you had feelings for me,” crinkling plastic noises, “these things are good as fuck.”

that makes you both laugh, cutting through the solemnity in the room. in a weird way, your own confession feels like nothing at all— not shameful, or embarrassing, or compromising—just matter-of-fact as its weight rolls off of your shoulders. you rest your head against the cushions of the back of the couch as you stare at gojo, appreciating the way his makeshift headband keeps his soft white hair away from his face.

“is that why you were upset before?” gojo asks, setting the last blue gummy shark in the pack on your knee next to the others. “you thought i was talking about someone else?”

“when you say it like that it sounds dumb.”

“were you jealous?”

“no,” deny, deny, deny. obviously you were jealous, and he knows that now, telling by the same shit eating grin from earlier. if you look close enough, the very tips of his ears dust a light pink, while your entire face flushes beet red. “i don’t get jealous.”

“i think you do.”

suguru geto

beside you on the couch, geto looks effortlessly flawless. the top half of his silky black hair is tied back as usual, but he’s got on a plain white t-shirt and black joggers, the former just tight enough to cling to his biceps and stretch over his shoulders. now that you’re sober, it’s harder to look at him than it is to look away from him, so you sit with your whole body turned to him, your legs tucked up to your chest.

“you know, i never took you as somebody so clueless,” geto starts, leaning back into the couch with one hand behind his head, his bent arm showing off how his bicep is just that much bigger than his shirt sleeves. it’s hard not to be distracted, but his comment pulls your eyes from his muscular arm to his face.

“what?” confusion crowds your features, scrunching up your nose and stitching your eyebrows together.

“i mean, really. everything has just,” his free hand swipes over his head with a quick, light whistle, “right over your head. you know that?”

“i don’t get it,” you reply, your confusion continuing to build when geto offers everything but context. the cogs in your brain are working overtime in an attempt to prove him wrong, but… well, he’s right. in regards to romance, you are clueless. all he does is laugh this time, that same low, sultry laugh that had you glued to your barstool. “okay, i think you’re just bullying me now. did you come here to be mean to me or to let me apologize for making things weird?”

“weird?” geto muses, an almost invisible smirk tugging at his lips, now looking up to the ceiling. for a few seconds, you study his sharp side profile, and the way his adam's apple bobs in his throat when he swallows, but you tear your eyes away quickly when he tilts his head to look at you again. “i think that’s where we’re miscommunicating.”

“you know what? you are really, really bad at having open and honest conversations,” you say, your tone comparable to jabbing a finger at his chest. “i’m the clueless one but you’re the one making this difficult.”

“i’m trying to let you figure it out on your own,” he laughs, readjusting himself to face you and pulling one leg up to lay flat on the couch, bent at the knee so he’s sitting half-crisscrossed. “should i just be honest? or is your mom going to call again?”

huff. your cheeks blossom pink, and you look down at your hands in embarrassment at being called out. “she might call. it depends on what you say,” you murmur.

“are you going to avoid looking at me the whole time i’m here?”

“start talking or i’m dragging you out of my apartment, suguru.”

“i knew what i was doing that night, you know. i’m not oblivious to the effect i had on you,” he says, dipping his head down in an attempt to catch your eyes. geto’s expression seems sincere but no less smug than it has been, reflective of the way he looked at you the night this situation began. “there was no other girl, either. i just wanted to know what you liked, so i figured asking for your ‘advice’,” finger quotes,”would be the best way to find out.”

from your side of things, geto’s words drop in front of you like a bag of bricks. cinderblocks, really, a loud, metaphorical “thud” reverberating through your brain the moment his words sink in. his honesty, while refreshing, overloads your brain, and as you sit there, blank-faced and speechless, geto begins to elaborate.

“i admit that i came off pretty strong, but i figured i’d have to since you’d been avoiding me that whole week,” he laughs. “i think i did a pretty good job, though.”

“i…” you trail off, flicking through your memory of an entire language for a set of words to accurately describe how you’re feeling, or what you’re thinking, but eventually you settle for anything that manages to come out. “i am clueless. was clueless. i think my mom is going to call me again.”

“is she? does she have to?” without taking his eyes off of yours, geto leans forward, subtracting from some of the space left between the two of you. this close, you can almost smell his entire shower routine— his warm, boozy body wash, his bright, clean shampoo, his warm, musky cologne, the bite of aftershave, something creamy—

your thoughts are falling out of order with his face so close to yours. geto’s eyes fall to your lips, and yours fall to his, but you turn away before he can even think about closing the gap between them. your face feels like it’s on fire, your cheeks burning impossibly red, no doubt totally visible to the man before you. he doesn’t look away, though, instead bringing his gentle fingertips to your chin to bring your attention back to him. geto’s voice drops to a whisper, so soft, his words only for your ears.

“you don’t feel the same way?”

“i-i never— that’s— i never said, um— i do feel the, uh, the same way, so—“

“can i kiss you?” jesus christ, this sentence brings you to your metaphorical knees, breaking any and all of your resolve to not melt like ice cream in his hands. you nod, just once, and geto nods back in confirmation.

when his lips meet yours, it’s nothing like what you expected. what you expected was excitement, eagerness, too much too fast; when his lips meet yours, his kiss is so soft, so sure, so slow that you’re unsure if you’ll still be on earth after it ends. the moment geto pulls away, you’re scared that you’re going to sob, but you don’t. you don’t make a sound at all.

“okay,” geto whispers, his minty breath breezing over your lips. “see you monday.”

your eyes pop open, searching his face in confusion.

“what? why? where are you going?” you watch geto stand and stretch, trying to pay little mind to the sliver of exposed skin when his shirt rides up, before he starts making his way to the door.

“we talked this out, yeah? i know what i need to know, you know what you need to know. it’s late,” geto says coolly, slipping on his shoes and snatching his keys off of the small table by your front door. you scramble off of the couch and over by the door, flustered, standing a few feet away from him. geto grins as he stares down at you, halfway out the door. “things would’ve gotten out of hand.”

nanami kento

one thing nanami did get right was that it was a shame that you didn’t get that necklace. in the mirror, you take note that your neck looks too bare in your velvety black dress, but none of the necklaces in your collection meet the standards of what would look best decorating the empty space. however, you figure it doesn’t matter too much— instead of a necklace, you decide to pin in some dangly earrings, complementing the updo your hair is so meticulously done up in.

you spritz your wrists and neck with perfume before taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, now suddenly aware of how quickly 8:30 is approaching. your phone has yet to light up with a message at 8:27, which is slightly worrying… you took nanami as being one to appreciate punctuality to the point of always being early, but maybe he got caught up in something.

switching your closet light on, you tip-toe to reach a box at the top shelf containing one of the best gifts you’d ever bought yourself: a shiny black pair of louboutins. it’s rare that you get to wear them, but you figure that if you’re going to wear them anywhere, it’s out to wherever nanami plans on taking you. each heel slips on perfectly, neither too snug nor too loose, and a younger part of your brain thinks you feel like cinderella.

once you take a few practice steps in your heels, you’re good to go, slinging your purse over your shoulder and checking your phone again. 8:29 and nothing.

and then one minute later, someone knocks on the door.

the same smile from the jewelry store spreads across nanami’s face when you open the door, pearly white teeth showing, the left side of his mouth cocked up a bit further than the right, something you hadn’t noticed then but impossible to miss now. from behind his back he produces a beautiful bouquet of red roses, the kind wrapped in paper, not plastic, secured with a pink silk bow. his eyes, uncovered by his usual glasses, look you up and down in a way that feels honoring instead of exposing.

“i didn’t know you’d come up to my door,” you murmur shyly, entranced in the warmth of nanami��s expression. “i figured you’d text me when you got here… are those for me?”

“of course they are,” he says, his smile seeping into his voice before taking a step back so you can step forward, holding his hooked elbow out for you to take. “what man would make you walk out to his car alone? i certainly wouldn’t.”

“oh— shit, i have to grab my wallet first, nanami. i left it in the kitchen,” but before you can take another step further into your apartment, you swear that he glares daggers at you, almost as if to say ‘you’d better not go any further.’

“no need. why would you need it?” nanami muses almost smugly, gesturing again for you to take his arm. you say nothing back, too busy thanking whichever gods can hear you out there for whoever raised such a gentleman. instead, you lock the door and take nanami’s arm, your hand resting at the crook of his elbow.

“so… i know you said she may not like this, but think of this as a practice date for me,” nanami watches your expression falter when he says that, and if he had less resolve, he’d fall to his knees and apologize right there. however, it’s for the plot. “i haven’t been on a good date in years. if tonight goes well, i’ll know i’m ready to make my move. what do you think?”

despite the dull ache of dejection in your chest, you smile and nod. “i think that’s a good idea, nanami. it’s very important to be prepared, especially if you like her as much as you seem to.”

the short trip to his car is over before the two of you want it to be, but it ends with nanami opening your door for you and ushering you into the passenger seat like a true gentleman. you don’t think you’ve been treated this well by anybody cumulatively, and you haven’t even been on the actual date yet. it only takes nanami a few seconds to get to the driver’s side of the car, but once you’re inside, you can’t help but peek into the backseat. behind the driver’s seat on the floorboard is a small gift bag with the jewelry store’s logo on it. jealousy swarms in your chest, but before you can feel any worse, the driver’s side door opens and it’s time to go.

“you look beautiful, by the way.”

-

you and nanami spent three of the best hours of your life at one of the finest, most beautiful restaurants in tokyo. the food was amazing, the champagne was better, but the conversation was the best part of the entire date. you don’t think you’ve ever laughed so hard, or blushed so much, or felt so heard. it’s all courtesy of nanami, but there’s no doubt that the entire bottle and a half of champagne shared between the two of you helped a little. well, you had much more than him— but nanami still had to call someone to drive the two of you home.

before you know it, the two of you are back to standing by the front door of your apartment. the humidity and the alcohol have done a number on your updo and your makeup, and the left strap of your dress is slipping off of your shoulder, but nanami swears he’s never seen something more beautiful in his life. he’s not in much better shape— his collar is half-popped, his tie is loose, and his neatly combed hair has fallen forward, lying freely on his forehead. to anyone else, it may look as if your date went too well.

it was hard to remember to grab the small gift bag from his backseat, yet somehow he managed not only that, but hiding the bag behind his back all the way from the car to the door. you’re both fighting a laugh at nanami’s last joke as you unlock your door, loudly shushing him through your giggles for plausible deniability should your neighbors complain the next day.

“i—“ hiccup, “i think i’d count this as a success,” nanami says, swaying on his feet as you finally unlock your door. “would you?”

“nanami, this was, like, not only the best date i’ve ever been on,” giggle,” but probably the most fun i’ve ever had. like, ever!” okay, too loud. the both of you fall silent for several seconds, staring at each other wide eyed as you listen for any complaints, before devolving into laughter once again.

“soooo… would you want to do it again?” nanami tries to slip that into the conversation coolly, not wanting to disrupt your giggles. please say yes. please say yes please say yes please say yes—

“… what?” you say, wondering if he’s the one who drank so much instead of yourself. “i thought you just needed one practice date?”

“mmm… i was kind of… umm, practicing for you, with you,” he says, now more than ready to abandon ship based purely on your reaction. “‘s okay if it’s a no. we had a really, really great time ‘n i’m glad.”

“wait, what?” none of this is registering in your brain at all, staring up at nanami with wide, drunk, glassy eyes. “it’s me? i’m the girl?”

“… well, yes,” nanami says, his voice starting to become much softer, much more withdrawn. “is that not okay?”

if you were sober, you swear you’d be jumping for joy. instead, you tip-toe and throw your arms around nanami’s neck, trying not to squeal in his ear but failing miserably. his eyes widen at the sudden development in physical contact, but his hands instinctively move to your waist to make sure you don’t fall down.

choso kamo

okay, maybe you’re a little heavy handed with the booze. it wouldn’t be so bad if you had just measured how much tequila you were pouring into the blender, or if you had poured the frozen margarita mixture into smaller cups instead of two huge cups with straws, one for you and one for choso, but alas. the two of you lay stretched out on your stomachs over his bed, a playstation controller in your hands and another in his, as you both poorly attempt to play mortal kombat. neither of you are doing anything remotely close to purposeful as you press the buttons, but somehow choso keeps winning.

“okay, no fuckin’ way you’re not cheating!” you accuse, overflowing with giggles as you let the controller fall to the floor. choso sits up on his knees, slurping his margarita through his straw as he celebrates his fourth win in a row.

“sorry ma’am, ‘s a skill issue,” he teases between sips, watching as your jaw drops.

“you’ve been playin’ too many games with yuji, sir!”

“maybe you should get good, ma’am!”

“think ’m too drunk t’ play any more video games anyway,” you sigh, sitting up to grab your own drink. choso nods in agreement and stands to turn off the playstation, letting the tv switch back to the blank input screen.

it had been a long time since the two of you drank together, especially so much, which was reminiscent of your college days when you would steal liquor from your parent’s house just to drink with choso in the alley behind your dorm. this time around, you can see the way the alcohol makes him flush pink, starting at the tips of his ears all the way down his neck, dipping lower to his chest where your eyes can’t see.

“maybe we can watch a movie ‘n here?” choso asks, grabbing the remote to his tv from his nightstand. “i don’ think we can safely walk over yuji ‘n his friends.”

“might trip,” you mumble, moving up to the head of the bed to rest your back against choso’s headboard. “let’s watch something funny.”

“wait, i kinda wanna play a game,” choso interrupts, plopping himself down next to you at the head of his bed. he uses one of the two hair ties on his wrist to pull his hair into one ponytail at the back of his head to get it off of his neck— drinking makes him feel hot. if you weren’t so drunk, you’d realize that he’s being kind of shifty, almost as if he’s nervous. “yuji told me i should play it ‘cause i haven’t before.”

you whine, a pout forming on your face. “you just turned off the playstation.”

“no, no! not that kind of game. truth or dare,” he says excitedly, and there’s a little voice in your head saying No. no no no no no, that it may be a fun game to play in a group setting, or with someone you’re not secretly in love with, but unfortunately you can’t say no when he looks that excited. plus, another little voice in your head says Yes. yes yes yes yes yes, you can torture yourself by finding out information about who choso wants.

“mmmm… okay, fine. you know how to play?” big sip of your drink to cushion any blows this game might throw in your direction. crisscrossing your legs, you sit up straight, holding one of choso’s pillows in your lap for comfort so your cold cup doesn’t touch your bare legs.

“yes. kinda,” he says, mirroring your position on the bed. “i wanna go first. truth or dare, ma’am?”

“hmmm… dare, sir.” choso cheers quietly when you pick dare, and it makes you laugh. he takes a few moments to think, even aha!ing once or twice before shaking his head no before he lands on a dare. when he finally shares his dare for you, you almost choke on your drink.

“okay. i dare you to tell me who you like.”

“m-me? who i like?” you stammer, completely caught off guard by the new, sudden change in direction. there wasn’t a guarantee that he wouldn’t say something like this, but you never expected it— from him, at least. choso had never been interested in your love life, and it was a fairly new thing for him to share his.

“yes. and you can’t lie or skip it because yuji said that’s cheating.”

“i don’t… i don’t like anyone,” liar. choso’s not entirely convinced either, dramatically raising a skeptical eyebrow at your response. although your face was already dusted a light pink, your cheeks now glow bright red, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“was that a lie?” choso prods, dropping his head down to try and meet your eyes. “i think you just lied to me!”

“no! not a lie!” Liar. choso’s jaw drops, hanging slack in disbelief at the audacity you have to lie, and then lie about lying.

“i think we’re too drunk to play this game,” you say, placing your cup on the floor next to his bed. there’s nothing in it that you need, especially when you nearly fall off of the bed putting it on the floor. thankfully, one of choso’s big, rough hands grabs onto your leg before you can slip. that doesn’t help your case either.

“what? no, i’m not. i don’t think you are either. we’re drunk but not too drunk,” he corrects, and he’s right, and he knows you know he’s right. “if you tell me, i’ll tell you.”

“you tell me first and i’ll tell you.”

“what?! it was your dare!”

“if you don’t tell me first i won’t tell you! i’m… too embarrassed,” you murmur, hoping, praying, begging that he’ll drop this, but if anyone’s going to back down, it’s not going to be him. choso squints at you from where he sits across from you.

“why are you embarrassed? do i know him? do i not like him?”

“what? no. i mean, i guess you know him? i’d hope you like him. stop stalling! you have to tell me first or i won’t tell you.”

the both of you fall silent in a standoff, your stares the weapon of choice for this fight, and for several

moment’s you’re sure that choso will be the one to break. he’ll get tired of the quiet and this conversation will be left for another day, or will never be picked up again, but… part of you doesn’t want him to give this up. you want to know, but not before he knows.

“i like you,” choso declares, his chin held high and his eyes still participating in your weird duel. he’s definitely blushing, but other than that, he shows no sign of embarrassment, or shame, or fear… he’s also not laughing. when you don’t say anything, choso keeps talking. “i like you a lot. in, like, more than a friend way. that’s why i wanted to play truth or dare.”

“i, um… i thought that—“

“holdonholdonhe’stellingher—“ creaaaaaaaak. THUD. “—shhh!”

both of your faces immediately turn bright red, heads snapping towards the door that was previously left cracked two or three inches, which is now swung wide open. three sets of footsteps run down the hallway as you jump up from choso’s bed to slam the door shut, locking it afterwards just to be safe. you want to slam your head through the thin wooden door, but instead, you rest your burning forehead against its smooth surface.

“… was this his idea?” you ask, your voice wobbling from such an extreme level of embarrassment that you think you might cry. from behind you, you can hear a small ‘yes.’ “did he tell you to dare me to tell you who i like?” another small ‘yes.’

instead of saying anything else, you take a deep breath and force your weak, trembling legs to carry you back to choso’s bed. you stand at the side he’s sitting on, staring into his amber colored eyes which stare back into yours, both held wide and shifting nervously before placing a hand on each side of his face.

however, it’s choso that moves first, almost violently bringing his lips to yours, and it’s like a supernova explodes behind your eyes— thousands and thousands of colors, lights, sounds, feelings you’ve never felt before flood your senses, and within a second you’re melting into him. choso moves so that you’re standing between his legs, his hands moving in tandem to rest on your waist, trapping you where you stand so that you can’t leave. not that you’d want to.

eventually, you have to pull away from his lips to breathe, but your foreheads rest against each others, the both of you left eyes closed and panting.

from the living room, yuji yells, “did you do it?”

a/n: FINALLYYYYYYYYYYYY HERE COME IN HERE COME GET YALL JUICE

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"remember that time when-" ft. r.zoro!

ft. zoro x fem!reader

set-up: you're pms-ing and this man is your greatest friend and even greater enemy rn (but you know you love him); drabbles to soothe your delusional soul <3

warnings: none! very wholesome lol

-contrary to popular belief, this man actually knows what periods are (wow, the bare minimum!!!) - when he was younger, he had listened to kuina go on about being a woman and its disadvantages and all and i believe he thought she was talking smack (i mean at the end of the day, "a swordsman is just a swordsman") - so when 15 year old zoro stumbled across a library, he decided to waltz in and just pick up a random biology book to understand female anatomy (it happened one after the other, completely unplanned) - when i tell you his little fifteen year old pea-sized brain was blown away (he learnt way more than he probably should have) - (please i beg u he can read, trust me 😭😭) - but just because he knows its a thing doesn't mean he understands it. so, yeah, he actually does know what it is, he simply does not care - in his logic, he had bled multiple times and still always bounces back so like what's the big deal??? "what's the big deal? it's just blood" he's sipping on a bottle of sake, gulping down its remnants in a single breath when you had complained about cramps one evening "excuse me?" nami is ready to strike him down "i said its just blood" - nami did, infact, then strike him down - post-dating zoro still thinks its no biggie "oi, yn" he's poking your shoulder, "what's wrong?" "cramps" you grumble against the pillow he laughs, "ah, they'll go away, get up and get going now. don't sulk around, you're my fav ketchup packet" "tf did you just say?" "ketchup packet?" - you refused to talk to this man for the next two days - at the end of the second day, he had to write a formal apology (with chopper's help) and speak it out loud before you started entertaining his bullshit again - see the thing is this mf is reserved, superhuman and has an absurdly high pain tolerance so it's hard for him to sympathize exactly - he once caught you crying cause you had seen a mama chimpanzee kiss it's baby chimpanzee and hug it tightly and he will forever bring it up "zoro you remember that time you got lost in dru-" "yn, remember that time, we were passing through a jungle and you saw some chimp-" he ended up getting a sucker punch to the face he deserved it. - but just because words aren't his thing doesn't mean he isn't looking out for you - everytime you're laying there on the bed, unmoving, he'd wordlessly crawl into the bed next to you. he's give you a gentle back massage or start rubbing soothing patterns onto your belly "you want something?" he mumbles slowly, hands skimming softly over your waist - this man would not and i repeat absolutely would not allow you to do any physically demanding work though "hey, let me handle that" "zoro, i am not a child!" "you sure look like one to me." he snickers, "remember the time you saw that mom chimpan-" "zORO FUCK OFF!!" - you need something from the top shelf? he got it. you are helping ussop carry gunpowder from the storage? go sit down, your boyfriend's got it - does it sometime frustrate you? yes - does the crew use this opportunity to make his lazy ass do a fuck lot of chores? also yes - he will still 100% make ketchup jokes (he's gross like that) - but name one man who'll treat you more gently than this bozo, i dare you - it might be something as lame as a period, doesn't mean he woudn't go to the end of the world to make you feel slightly better (even if he teases you about it endlessly)

sanji's part <3 luff's part <3

[applestruda]

Ok so i've gotten a couple of people asking me how i color,, so i thought i might like, drop a mini tutorial for how i draw in general. I will explain to the best of my ability, but im not super good at this kind of thing (also this is gonna be a long post)

I will say that usually I go into a drawing with a general idea of what I want to draw, the vibe I want to give, and the colors I want to work with. Of course these can change throughout the process though.

(and side tip is to flip the canvas often, that way it's easy to catch mistakes and tweak them)

So I always start with a sketch, it's not clean or pretty, just meant to give me a good base. And from there I color in the flats

Next I take some darker colors and just throw it on top of the flats, erasing where I want there to be highlights

I then specifically take the brush called stickman (on procreate), and do a wash over the art. I find that it creates a variety of interesting colors and adds some texture.

From there, I take my usual brush (chalk) and I grab the colors created by the previous step, rendering out the form with them

Next is just the highlights, where i pretty much make a good base to start adding details and messing with layer types.

Details! I use a variety of brushes, layer types, and colors, just messing around and seeing what I like. I often stumble across something I like through this method, completely unplanned.

(also to create the wispy effect like what's around the stars, I just grab a color, use whatever layer type I think looks cool, and then go in with my eraser to add more shape to it)

The final couple of steps is still me just messing around with layer types and colors, but usual to the whole drawing instead of specific spots, possibly unifying colors and or trying to push contrasts a little further (it depends on what I'm going for). And then i finish it off with another stickman layer to add more texture back!

And erm,, Yeah! That's kinda it.. In total this took 1 h 11 min.. and honestly most of it is just me messing with things until I like it..

Hope this helps,