#but when i drop a bomb like moving out of state

[asyourshadowfalls]

people who don't understand how long distant friendships can be healthy and safe really infuriate me. sorry babe you don't even know how to navigate a streaming site without getting ads if i don't give you a pay by play, i get that you're a dumbass when it comes to how people can be digital yet safe. but fucking hell throwing away a 10 year relationship over your fears? rooted in truly thinking i must be a dumbass who didn't do my due diligence in checking all the details of a person who's been my friend for 3 years. if i were a petty bitch i'd tell her how fucked it is that as she believes im going into a dangerous situation is when she's okay with stepping back and losing my trust? like yeah because that's the right thing to do when youre worrying about someones safety. also petty x2 would be saying how i kept my mouth shut beyond initial complaints when she was in toxic relationships because i knew i needed to be someone she felt safe coming to when she finally got to the point of leaving.

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

[karinasbaby]

lee heeseung — POOL. [4:58 am]

P. heeseung x fem!reader (+17) | W. mentions of alcohol & a party, unprotected sex, gojou reference, fingering & squirting, dacryphilia, praising + degrading in a way? hee’s cocky & a tiny bit rough, dumbification, slight corruption kink | WC. 1.6k | A,N. quick thought that i had to share, might share more of these while i work on other fics !! also this is for my beloved hana @enha-stars who has been studying & working so hard recently, good luck w everything my beloved :D !!

alright, maybe telling your boyfriend of one month that none of your previous partners were able to make you squirt in a random party at two am wasn’t the brightest idea.

blame it on the alcohol that was running in your system, blame it on your clumsiness and carelessness or your friends that were asking you stupid questions in front of your boyfriend— whatever, none of it mattered right now.

especially not after heeseung’s entire demeanour changed when you dropped such an unexpected bomb for him out of nowhere.

if it wasn’t for your friend gasping loudly he would’ve never made it out of his shocked state, especially right when his fingertips were about to slip against his cup.

and maybe looking at your boyfriend’s darkened, lust filled eyes with your own drunk and needy ones also wasn’t the best idea you were blessed with today, since it led to you and heeseung’s early departure from the party both of you had agreed to stay till sunrise for.

here you were now, dealing with the consequences of your own actions as heeseung picked you up with ease and guided you towards his lap, heavy breaths along with your whines and his grunts echoed throughout your room, your hot body brushed against his sweaty one, each contact and brush felt like pure fire trickling down your skin.

“fuck— seung, please. it’s not going to happen.” you begged for the fourth time in just the span of one hour as heeseung held his pulsing red tip against your dripping slit, “slow down, baby. we have all day ahead of us, it will happen.” he spoke with a sinister smirk against your neck, a result of your weakened body slumping into his own with the continuous exhaustion building up for you.

a pained moan fell from your lips while he groaned under you, his cock practically bruising your walls at this point with his third entrance, “still so tight for me..” he mumbled, closing his eyes and throwing his head on the back of the leather couch he hastily moved the two of you onto.

his hands gripped onto your hips as his own moved upwards, the familiar feeling of his rushed thrusts made tears spring into your eyes, the release of another climax already building up after the two previous ones, heeseung already had you come undone under him first before moving on to having you scream his name onto the pillow while he pounded into you from behind for the second time.

and now he was guiding your hips to follow his rhythm, head set on one goal and it was to make you squirt for the first time with him, the thought of what your previous partners missed out on and barely put effort in was laughable, he couldn’t wrap his head around the amount of missed opportunities on their behalves and yet at the same time a small part of him was relieved and glad they didn’t.

they just gave him another opportunity to imprint himself more into your mind, really.

and he couldn’t really blame himself for the insane amount of stamina and energy he had right now, your words easily enlivened something deep inside of him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without making you squirt on him, not with the way your words have been ringing in his head since the party.

your arousal that mixed with his own leaked down from your inner thighs onto his, the squelching sounds from the connection point between you two was embarrassingly loud in your ears, and the noises only spurred heeseung further.

he picked up the pace, gradually pounding into you from below while both of his hands gripped onto your ass to guide you with him, every whimper and moan might’ve tumbled past your lips next to his ear but all of it was going straight to his throbbing dick that was abusing your cervix now.

your chest heaved on top of his, breathes short as the only thing in your mind was heeseung’s massive length moulding your walls into his size along with the constant twitching of your legs next to his, you felt the knot curling further in your abdomen, a sudden pressure pooling in your lower stomach that made your grip atop his shoulders tighten, nails softly scratching his skin.

“taking me so well baby.. i know you’re close.” he breathed out heavily from under you, his hair disheveled and shiny around his temples as the dark strands stuck on his skin, more droplets of sweat rolled down his body and onto the leather couch the harsher he moved, desperate to fuck you dumb till you squirted.

you nodded mindlessly along to his words, the only thing your teary eyes being able to make out in the dimly lit room was the frustrating smirk that had been plastered onto his face since you both came back, “you crying?” he taunted, his smile stretching wider when his words made your tears spill past your pretty lashes, his arms then trailed to wrap around your lower back and waist, bringing your face into the crook of his neck while he moved beneath you.

moving one hip upwards while the other one down to angle his cock perfectly inside of your gummy walls and then pummelling his length deep till his tip finally hit that one spot that had you gasp in his hold had him seeing stars, “found it, right?” he drunkenly whispered into your ear, pressing his tip further and chuckling in satisfaction when your legs began to tremble completely under him.

“fucking finally.” he groaned out, not daring to pull a single inch out and only grinding himself against you to keep massaging your spot roughly, his smugness growing at the consistent tightening of your cunt around him, his own delayed release long forgotten in his head as he could taste the feeling of reaching his goal on the tip of his tongue.

god the sounds in the room were filthy at this point, the loud drenched noise of your mixed cum that coursed down your ass slapping against his heavy balls the rougher and shorter he thrusted while he whispered more into your ear made your glossy eyes roll into the back of your head.

he gently pushed your upper body from his, “i wanna see your face when you cum again, pretty.” he cooed, his heavy lidded eyes stuck on your fucked out expression, completely cock drunk and fuck was the sight of your swollen pretty lips, flushed face and wet eyelashes so hot.

his arms stayed around your waist to support you, your hands stayed gripping onto his shoulders to stabilise yourself with your shaking legs while heeseung practically split you open.

“i’m— close. so close.” you whimpered out, voice barely audible making heeseung’s eyebrows furrow while he picked up his pace once again, “oh yeah?” in the blink of an eye he had one of his hands wrapped around your throat as he fucked into you viciously, your gasps and moans instantly dying down at the loud sounds of skin slapping.

“go ahead, baby. cum for me.” he ordered, his excitement evident all over his face and body as his smile widened while his cock twitched, pulsing achingly between your snug walls, the coil in your lower stomach tightened painfully, the pressure and the feeling of your release felt so different to all the others yet you couldn’t focus on anything other than the harsh drags of heeseung’s cock inside of you.

and right when your climax was about to wash over you, heeseung’s arms quickly lifted you up from his length, you didn’t even have the time to process the change before three of his fingers thrusted inside of you making you almost go cross eyed, you cried his name as he began to quickly push his fingers in and out.

small chains of fuckfuckfuck’s spilled past both of your lips, arousal drizzling past heeseung’s wrist as he fucked you on his fingers, his own gasps and moans matching your own, eyes stuck on your shaking form above him as he curled his fingers to press on that spot again, “that’s it right there, isn’t it?” he teased, chuckling at the way your jaw went slack at the pleasure seeping through your every vein while he kept thrusting his fingers before your climax finally washed over you mere seconds later.

your body fell atop his while you finally squirted all over his abdomen with moans and mewls of his name reaching his ears and shit was heeseung gone. “good fucking girl..” he grunted under you, his eyes darkening at the sight of the puddle forming on top of the leather, fuck how was he ever going to not have you squirting all over him like a fountain after this?

heeseung felt himself falling in love all over again at the sight of your back arching in his hold, wetness gushing down his forearm with your legs jerking on either side of his hips, the pressure he felt from your cunt only made him thrust back harder making your vision cloud more.

there was absolutely no way that he didn’t just develop a whole obsession in mere seconds.

your mind went numb as he fucked you through your shaking orgasm, slowly beginning to overstimulate you, “no— hee, please no” you sobbed, tears dripping onto his chest while his hands continued to fuck you through your orgasm and begin to pushing you into another one.

“baby, how can i stop after you just did all that?” he spoke with an incredulous expression, how could you ask him that when he just found his newest addiction? as if he wasn’t already addicted to the sweet flavour of your cunt and your warm wet walls now you also were overflowing around him like this and expecting him to stop?

“i’m gonna have you do that again on my dick this time.” he smiled at your heavy lidded and exhausted eyes, finger slowly coming to a stop inside of you while his other hand pushed your head onto his chest again, “like i said, we have all day.”

a, note. this is my eid gift for everyone :D really going back to horny hours w this one so hope u enjoyed !! (this is not proofread !!) <33

[dcxdpdabbles]

First of all your writing is amazing 🤩🤩!!!

You give so much life to your writings.

So I've been seeing a lot of snippets that have Danny claiming Dani as his child and also somehow carrying the cores to her clone siblings. And I was wondering how you would depict that. Maybe with a Dan maybe not. He could be living with Vlad or maybe he had to flee Amity and gets found on the streets by one of the bats if he's in Gotham or Alfred is the one who brings home the stray. Maybe he's Bruce's kid maybe not. He doesn't even need to be in Gotham. Maybe it lines up with Lian and he somehow saves her (I forget what happens to her).

Danny had only been in the new dimension for about thirty minutes when a terrorist attacked. He had originally traveled there with them since Clockwork promised if he relocated in a timeline so far away from Dan. He would allow Dani- de-age to five though her mental state stayed the same- and the cluster of her clone siblings' cores to live.

Clockwork claimed that Dani and the clones were destined to be corrupted, causing more devastation and death than Dan. They would expand their mercenaries' attack across dimensions and timelines, wiping out millions and millions, and so the clock ghost had enlisted Danny to destroy them.

He had gone under the condition that they would leave Dani alone, but when Danny saw the clones' cores, something in him had not been able to kill them off. Seven of them rested in a nest-like ectoplasm cave, and even though they were locked within their cores, Danny could hear their little heartbeats.

Could sense the being within, resting like a child in a mother's stomach.

It sounded a lot like an ultrasound, but he quickly found out only he could hear them, for Tucker, Sam, Jazz, and Dani had only seen glowing egg-shaped targets. He had thrown himself over them, begging them to not harm the children.

Danny didn't know where the connection came from, but there was no denying that there was one. He had bonded with the cores, and he wanted nothing more than to care for and nurture the children that were forming within.

Clockwork's deal hung heavily over his head, but after speaking to his friends and family, he decided to move far away for the children. He would be a single father to Dani and her seven siblings, worlds away from everything he knew and loved.

It is Difficult, but other parents have left their home countries to try and give their kids a better future before. He could do it, too.

Danny would even share his natural ectoplasm with the cores to help them grow like a ghost incubator. Yes, it would weaken him, but no more than any other person who was pregnant, and he would not have to deal with mood swings or food cravings!

He bid his family fair well, taking with him funds from Sam and Vlad, and had hopped over. Dani held his hand, and his core children were safely tucked into his backpack in warm towels. They had five suitcases with them, taking their essentials - such as government documents Clockwork swore would be what that world used, clothes, food, and the few techs they could carry- and had stepped through the spinning portal.

He had stopped between the two worlds, turning back only once to wave goodbye and ignore the tears rolling down his face.

His mother had called out, "Don't look back, sweetie. If you do, you'll never be able to see your children in front of you!"

Danny had turned and not looked back again. He and Dani were dropped in what looked like a large city. The first thing he wanted to do for them was find shelter, so he wiped away his tears, helped a sobbing Dani clean her face, and then marched them away, hoping to find an apparent complex with a vacant room that would be open.

They had just been passing by a sweet of houses when the bombs went off. Dani screamed, throwing herself against Dani's leg as houses started to crumble around them.

For one heart-stopping moment, he imagined the cores shattered like eggs, shimmering against the red of Dano's squished body. Danny had dropped their bags, gathering Dani in his arms and flying to the closest shelter.

He invaded a house, pressing his daughter and her siblings against his chest as more and more bombs went around the city. With a cry, he threw the strongest shield he could muster around them, encasing his ectoplasm in ice, but still, the blasts rocked the house and tore apart the building. Trust Clockwork to throw them into a war zone!

"Danny!" Dani screamed as large bits of the ceiling fell onto the shield. It caused cracks on his shield, and the ghost boy gritted his teeth to strengthen them. He had just feed a lot of his power to the core not even twenty minutes ago. He's basically tapped out. "Danny, I think there is someone in the house!"

I don't care, Danny thinks ruthlessly. You and your siblings come first.

"Danny! I think it's a kid!"

Danny's tunnel vision of keeping his kids safe suddenly shatters as he registers the screaming. It's high pitch and frightened, someone young. It's coming from upstairs, just slightly above the rocking and booms of the city.

"Danny! I can't go ghost; you need to help them!"

But his kids-

"Danny, please!" Dani screams, looking up at him with her tiny five-year-old face and the burning protective core in her eyes.

He can't say no to that. With a flick of his wrists, Danny freezes the inside of the shield, encasing it a second time until only a small hole is left. He throws the backpack carrying his other children into his eldest's arms with a command: "Protect your brothers and sisters!"

He had to force himself and reach deep within to grab hold of what little Ectoplasim he had left, but twin rings of lights formed around him, shifting him from human to ghost. He could tell that the transformation wouldn't last. His limit is likely fifty seconds, but that's all the time he needs.

He flies through the hole, going intangible to the rumble and blaze, flying through the crumbling building until he spots a little girl humbled up and crying as the ground breaks underneath her. It feels as if everything slows down as she starts to fall, descending into the flames that burst around her- a bomb had been flung to the house, and it detonated upon impact- and Danny knew that if she hit the ground, she would die.

Danny knew what he had to do.

He would be cutting his transformation time, but it was a sacrifice well made. Phantom pushed everything he had into flying as fast as he could, reaching her just before her feet hit the flames. He curled his arms around her, pressing her to his chest and encasing her small body as best he could with his ice like a hastily made baby carrier. Then, he flung himself backward towards the first floor, where his children were waiting.

His vision started going blurry, and his flying was uneven. Intangibility failed him as rocks and fire slammed into his back. The little girl he rescued was protected from most hits, but he still curved around her, ensuring that if anything went to her, it would need to go through Danny.

They slammed into the shield, his ice retreating long enough for them to phase before the entire building collapsed. Danny hit the ground hard on his side, absorbing most of the impact as best he could for the girl, who was covered in inguires.

"Danny!"

Dani's horrified scream was the last thing he heard when the world faded to black.

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

No. No. No. No. no

Roy ran as fast as he could through the destroyed city, racing towards where his safe house and his daughter once stood. When the reports of Prometheus first arrived, he had known that Star City was among the target places, but when they showed him the map of the areas, his heart fell through his body.

He hadn't stayed for the briefing, had ignored the outraged cries of the heroes, and he knows he just hurt his chances of being in Justice League, but none of that mattered.

Lian needed him!

He heard Dick and Jason not far behind him, likely noticing the same thing on the map, but he could barely think as he leaped over destroyed buildings and rescue crews. He almost had no idea where he was; nothing looked the same, and dust and devastation were everywhere.

Only when he spotted a lump of crumbling wood and rocks he realize this was supposed to be his street. The broken building before him was his house, and it had been wiped from the face of the earth.

"Lian!" The scream that was ripped from him was inhuman, grief-stricken even as he crumbled to his knees, trying to push the wood out of the way to reach his daughter. "Lian! Daddy's coming. Danny's here! Hold on!"

He threw everything out of his way, desperately clawing at the heavier bits, but even as he spoke, his sight was blurry from his tears. Dick and Jason quickly helped him, letting pieces and moving stones with steady but sadness clouded their faces.

He's seen those particular expressions on the Bats before. It was during their search and recovery missions.

They were looking for a corpse.

No. no. no. no. no Please not my little girl

"What is that?!" Jason called out, pointing to a large caved-in roof with a faint green glow. Roy looked up, half numb from everything, to watch Dick and Jason push the roofing off with a grunt of effort.

A dome of glowing ice appeared, and he could make out the three figures inside it. The ice cracked, shattering as Roy stumbled towards it, eyes unfocused.

Then his gaze sharpened when his daughter's tear-covered face turned to him. She held out her hands with a sob, " Daddy!"

"Lian!"

He raced towards her, stumbling over a few steps, but he had his daughter in his arms, warm and safe and, most importantly, alive.

"Daddy, the alien saved me!" Lian said, "He's hurt!"

Roy can bring himself to leave his head from his daughter's hair, but he hears Dick take control, racing over to the alien that was crumbling on the ground.

"Stay away!" a young voice said- which- was the alien a child? He peaked one of his eyes up, only glazing at the sight of a body and a little girl hunched over them in a defensive posture.

"Hey, we mean you no harm. We just want to check on your friend there," Dick tells it.

"He isn't my friend, He' s my dad!"

"That's great. Does he need medical attention?" Jason said, stepping closer only to back away as the girl bared her sharp teeth. "We just want to help."

"You promise you won't hurt him?"

"We promised. He saved someone really important to us."

"You won't hurt my siblings either?"

"If we find them, we won't-

"They're right here with Dad. They just aren't born yet." The girl cuts him off, patting her father's back and the little bag.

Shit. The alien was pregnant? And he risked not only his own health but his unborn children for Lian? Roy doesn't care which side this alien is on, how they got to Earth, or what they planned to do.

He would protect them with their lives.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 8) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.3k

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

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Angst; Arguing/Fighting; Some Crying; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake tell Bradley about the baby.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. Two chapters in one week! Hope that you guys enjoy Bradley’s reaction!

A pin could have dropped in that moment and it would have sounded like a bomb went off in Maverick’s house. It was that silent. 

Bradley’s face was slowly growing red with anger, though he didn’t open his mouth. Yet. After a brief staring contest with your brother, you pulled Jake further into the house. Bradley was burning holes into Jake’s head and Jake was returning the sharp look with a sense of defiance that was not going to be productive in the long run.

You glanced up at Emma, who was staring at her husband with concern, and then Maverick, who was looking between Rooster and Hangman, like he was waiting for one of them to jump at each other. Holding in your emotions and trying to keep up a face of calm despite the tension, you turned back to your brother. 

“Bradley,” you started off with carefully, “you can stop glaring at Jake now.”

“So, the whole ‘nothing is going on between us’ was a big fat lie then?” Bradley asked rhetorically, turning to look at you. 

“Maybe we were worried that you would be hostile to the news,” you commented in return, staring down your brother for a moment. When he scoffed at your answer, you added, “Clearly we were wrong.” 

“Is this some kind of joke?” Bradley continued, causing you to purse your lips together. 

“No, it’s not. It’s real.” 

Bradley turned to Maverick, who turned to him with a rather stoic expression. Maverick glanced over at you and Jake, not judging but not necessarily overly supportive either, before turning back to Bradley. Frowning, Bradley turned back to you and Jake, who hadn’t moved to release your hand. 

“And when the hell did this start?”

“Around the time that you guys got back from your last deployment,” you lied, taking the lead on the questions. 

“You’ve been hiding this for five months?” 

“More or less.” 

“More or less?” Bradley repeated with an attitude. 

“Should we start dinner then?” Emma cut in, grabbing her husband’s shoulder with a sharp squeeze. “Before it gets cold?”

“Yes,” you agreed with Emma. 

“Great,” she replied, walking around and quickly grabbing all of the knives off of the table in quick succession. “We won’t be needing these today.”

The five of you sat down at the table and passed around dinner. Rooster continued to glare at Jake and Jake was very happy to return the glare. Maverick kept an eye on them as he was sitting in between them, but you weren’t fully convinced that nothing would happen.

Jake and Bradley had a history of being volatile around each other, and you just raised the stakes. And you were only going to raise them even higher. 

“Aren’t you going to ask us how we met, Brad?” you questioned, causing your brother to turn to shoot you a look.

“Of all of my teammates, of all of my squads, of all the guys in the fucking world, you had to pick him?” Bradley scoffed, gesturing to Jake, who narrowed his eyes at Rooster’s comment. “The only one that I specifically told you to stay away from.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” you replied, returning your brother’s look. 

“Did you ever think that maybe there was a reason why I told you to stay away from him?”

“Am I not allowed to make my own decisions? Am I not allowed to have my own opinions on people?” you scoffed, leaning forward in your seat. “And just because someone has a problem with you, that doesn’t mean that they have a problem with me too.” 

“Fine, then I’ll ask you, Seresin,” Bradley stated, turning to Jake, “Why, out of all of the girls in Miramar, were you going after my sister?”

“Why did you go after Emma?” Jake asked rhetorically. “We found each other attractive and we had some stuff in common.”

“What the hell could you possibly have in common?”

“We both think that you’re overreacting right now, to start off with,” Jake replied, causing Maverick to sigh and reach for his beer. 

“And what’s your favorite trait of my sister?” Bradley asked, narrowing his eyes. “Since you know her so well.”

“She takes what life throws at her and keeps moving forward with her chin up. She doesn’t let anyone or anything slow her down for too long.” 

Emma nodded, quite honestly looking impressed with Jake’s answer, while Bradley only continued to glare at Jake. You quietly let your heart flutter a bit in your chest but you kept your gaze on the ground. Maverick, glancing between Jake and Bradley, decided to take the lead for a moment. 

“When did you two actually meet and get together then?”

“We met for the first time at Brad and Emma’s wedding,” you started off with, sharing a look with Jake as you reached for your water. “But we didn’t really talk too much.” It wasn’t too big of a lie, but maybe a stretch of the truth. “Then we talked a lot the night that you guys came back from your last deployment and started going out a little while after that.”

“Well, I have to ask,” Rooster drawled sarcastically, “who made the first move?”

“I did,” you replied simply. 

“You did?” Bradley and Maverick asked at the same time, both looking surprised. 

“Yes.”

“You did?” Bradley repeated. 

“Are you going deaf?” you countered, straightening up more. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Bradley,” Emma sighed, rubbing her face. 

“Because I was attracted to him,” you explained, not quite having the courage to look over at Jake while you spoke. “Is that a crime?”

“No, it’s not,” Emma replied to your defense. 

“It’s a concern,” Bradley stated, earning a look from his wife. 

“Anyways,” you cut in, “we’re dating and we’re going to move in together.”

You hoped that breaking it piece by piece would help ease Bradley’s reaction and avoid an explosion. And you really just hoped that your calculations weren’t too far off. 

“You’re moving—do you even know him!?” Bradley snapped, causing you to roll your eyes at him and lean back in your seat. “You can’t just move in with a guy you just met!”

“We’ve known each other for over a year and we’ve been dating for a few months,” you replied calmly. “It’s not like we’re teenagers who don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes,” you snapped back defensively.

“Who’s apartment?” Maverick asked, causing you to turn to him.

“Jake’s for now,” you stated, glancing at Jake from the corner of your eye. 

“Why?” Bradley scoffed.

“It’s nicer and my lease is up first.”

“Why the rush?” Bradley pressed on, feeling that something was off with the whole situation.

“When you know, you know,” you replied, dodging the question.

“That's a bullshit answer.”

“It’s still an answer,” you scoffed right back at your brother.

“Who’s idea was that then? The whole moving in together one?”

“Mine,” Jake answered honestly. 

“Of course, it was,” Bradley replied, finding some new ammunition against Jake. “And why did you—the guy who told me at Coyote’s bachelor party that he wasn’t the type to settle down and have the ‘white picket fence’ life—suggest that the two of you should move in together after dating for five months?”

“Bradley,” you snapped, though it lacked substantial force behind it. 

You weren’t sure if the comment that Bradley was referring to actually came out of Jake’s mouth or if he actually meant it, but either way it was taking you a moment to process. You did the math and remembered that Coyote’s bachelor party was during the time where you were ignoring Jake. Maybe that had a role in it? But you didn’t want to dwell on it in front of your brother and Mav. You had to stay focused. 

“And how long was your most serious relationship again, Hangman? Last you told me, it wasn’t even a year.”

“Stop being a dick, Bradley,” you replied, this time with more force. 

“Honestly, do you really think that this is going to last?” Bradley directed at you, causing you to narrow your eyes. “Where do you see this relationship actually going?”

“Why don’t you just wait and see, Rooster?” Jake drawled, drawing Bradley’s glare to him. “Because I’m pretty sure that she can figure out what’s right for her.”

“Or what’s right for you?” Bradley countered. “Because those are two different things, Seresin.”

“Bradley,” Emma called, trying to ease the tension a bit more, “let her make her own choices. You telling her that it’s a bad idea isn’t going to lead to the result that you want.”

“Thank you, Emma,” Jake spoke up, causing Bradley to roll his eyes dramatically.

“You seriously think that you see a long-term future with him? Like marriage? Kids? All of that shit?” Bradley questioned you again. 

“Yes, I do,” you spoke so quietly that no one really heard you. 

“What?”

“Yes, I do,” you said louder despite the fact that your leg was starting to nervously bounce. 

“You’re serious?” Bradley demanded of you, almost scoffing in disbelief. “You didn’t marry Connor and you were with him for five years and you’re telling me that you’ve spent what? A couple of months with Hangman? And you can already see a long-term future with him?  That you’re already moving in with him? Really?”

“Bradley,” Emma warned him. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole!” you snapped, getting to your feet. 

Maverick called your name, trying to keep the peace, but you ignored him. Tossing your napkin down onto the table with a huff, you rounded on your brother. 

“And you wonder why I don’t tell you shit! Stop acting like you’re a goddamn saint, Bradley! You’re not! You never have been! I’m not the only one who can mess up! We’re both screw ups! We’re both fucked in the head! And Mom would be so proud of us and how we turned out, wouldn’t she!?”

Letting the tension roll off of your shoulders, you slowly sank down into your seat, the reality of your words hitting you. Not because you felt bad about what you yelled at your brother, but because of where your thoughts suddenly landed. 

Staring down at your hands for a second, you tried to discreetly wipe the tears that leaked from your eye before they got too far. Rubbing a tear between your finger and thumb, you felt Jake’s hand on your thigh, silently reminding you that he was there. 

You hadn’t really dwelled on how your mom would have reacted to the news about the baby, if she was still alive. You didn’t let yourself, actually.

After your mom died and definitely after Bradley left you behind with Maverick while he figured out his own life, you really buried all of that. You didn’t let yourself think about what your mom would have said or thought in these situations. You locked it all up and buried the key.

She would have had an opinion, certainly. She probably would have had some sharp words with a sweet Southern coating that would have struck far more fear into Jake than anything that Bradley could throw at him. But she was the type to give a hug out as quickly as a threat, so you assumed that all would have been forgiven once she knew he was serious.

And you realized with a shaking hand that you desperately wanted your mom there with you. She didn’t even get to see you in a prom dress or have a crush, for hell’s sake. 

Sharing a glance with Jake, who looked concerned for you, you slowly turned back to Bradley. Your brother’s anger was gone for now, his expression mirroring Jake’s own concerned one. But you had a feeling that you would see the anger slowly seep into his gaze again shortly. 

“You want to know what’s really going on?” you asked, staring down at your hands.

“Of course, I do,” Bradley replied immediately. 

“Alright,” you began. Picking up your head, you locked eyes with your brother. “I’m pregnant.”

“You . . .” Bradley paused, looking like his brain short circuited for a moment. “You’re . . .”

“Yes,” you confirmed, nodding slowly. 

You got up from the table and grabbed your purse. Rifling around, you pulled out your ultrasound photo and moved to hand it over to Bradley. He took it carefully, still stunned, and when he saw your name stamped in the margin of the photo, he knew that it was true. 

It wasn’t a joke—you were pregnant with Jake’s baby.

You held your breath a bit, waiting for him to react and gripped the back of the seat tightly as you stayed standing. You could also see Maverick and Jake on the edges of their seats, waiting for his reaction. Bradley silently held out the ultrasound photo to Emma, who took it from him carefully, before turning back to Jake. 

And then you saw the flash. 

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley roared, leaping to his feet. 

Chairs clattered and scratched against the floor as Jake and Maverick jumped to their feet too. Emma was yelling after her husband and you were calling after Jake, though when you moved to grab him, Emma pulled you back a step. Maverick put himself in between Bradley and Jake, keeping them separated with a hand on each of their chests. 

Rooster was boiling with rage, looking madder than a bull, and Jake appeared firm in the fact that he wasn’t going to back down. Maverick certainly had his work cut out for him. 

“You got my little sister pregnant, Seresin!?”

“And your little tantrum doesn’t change that!”

“I don’t care, you fucking bastard!”

“Bradley, stop!”

“Do you even love her!?” Bradley demanded from Jake. “Do you even care about her!?”

“Of course, I care about her!”

“Then why did you get her pregnant!?”

“I didn’t mean to do it, it was just something that happened!” 

“Bradley, stop it!” you shouted at your brother. “Jake!” 

“Are you even going to stay around to meet the kid or are you going to leave them hanging?” 

“Bradley!” 

“Both of you need to sit down now,” Maverick snapped, somehow managing to hold them apart. “You’re stressing her out!”

“He’s the one stressing her out!” Jake scoffed, glaring at Bradley. “She’s been worried about you reacting like a toddler for weeks!”

“Jake!” 

“She’s stressed because you knocked her up, you moron!”

“Bradley, stop it!”

“Sit down!” Maverick snapped, but neither Bradley nor Jake seemed to be willing to back down. 

“You’re not her fucking protector! She’s an adult, Rooster, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know her and I know that I’ll be the one consoling her when your ass gets cold feet, Seresin!”

“ENOUGH!”

The argument stopped immediately and everyone turned to where Emma was standing at the other end of the table. She certainly wasn’t the most imposing woman, but she had the ability to make her voice thunder across the room. And if her voice didn’t strike fear in them, her glare definitely did. 

“Now!”

Though he didn’t look happy about it, Bradley stepped back from Maverick and begrudgingly retook his seat. When Jake didn’t move from where he was standing, Emma pointed aggressively at his chair and wore an expression that screamed ‘try me bitch.’ Letting out a quiet mutter, Jake sat back down in his chair. 

“Now, the two of you are going to sit down and have a conversation like adults because you’re two grown ass men and not children.” Turning to Rooster first, Emma asked, “Is your support for your sister or your niece or nephew going to change depending on who the baby’s dad is?”

“Of course not,” Rooster replied defensively. “In this case, it’s only increasing it actually.”

“And Hangman, are you going to let what Bradley thinks about you change how you feel about her or the baby?”

“Absolutely not,” Jake stated, staring down Rooster with a challenging expression. 

“Good, so you can both agree that your first priority is making sure that she and the baby are happy and healthy?” With sharp nods from Jake and Bradley, Emma continued, “Good. Now figure your shit out like adults.” 

“Thank you,” you breathed out, pulling her in for a tight hug that she quickly returned. 

“Anytime.”

Emma gave you a tight hug, shooting both Bradley and Jake a look to be on their best behavior. Jake eventually let out a quiet chuckle as he turned back to Rooster. 

“Guess we know who wears the pants in your relationship,” Jake commented with a smirk, causing Maverick to shake his head. 

“I’d look to your right there, Hangman.”

Jake turned his head to find you shooting him a sharp look. Emma laughed to herself when Jake suddenly appeared sheepish about his comment.

Rooster rolled his eyes again and looked at his hands, actually taking the time to process the news. He turned to share a look with Maverick before looking over at you, to find that you were looking at him with a quietly terrified expression as you clung to Emma for a moment. Letting out a breath, he slowly got to his feet. He walked around the table towards you, completely ignoring Jake, and stopped a few steps away from you. 

Emma released you and moved to put herself in between Bradley and Jake, just in case. Bradley gave you a moment before he swallowed his annoyance and his pride and focused on your happiness for the first time since he found out about the whole situation. Though he also didn’t want to completely lie and pretend like he was overjoyed with the news.

“The storage unit,” Bradley began, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“What about it?”

“It has the old paintings that Mom made,” Bradley continued, earning a slow nod in return from you. “From our old nursery.” 

“I remember,” you agreed quietly. “I triple wrapped them myself so that they’d be preserved.” 

“Did you want them? For you and . . . your baby?” Bradley offered after a few more moments of silence and tension. 

You nodded slowly, starting to tear up again, when Bradley reached forward. Pulling you into a hug, Bradley rested his head on top of your own as you let out a few tears into his shirt. It reminded him of when you were little and he’d comfort you when a storm struck or when you were scared for your mom. He gave you a squeeze that you returned silently. 

“You’re going to be a mom,” he replied quietly.

“You’re going to be an uncle,” you returned in the same tone. 

“You know I’m here if you need anything. Emma too. We’re both here for you and the baby. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I’m not.”

Bradley opened his mouth, but when he saw Emma’s look, he closed it. While your face was still tucked into Bradley’s shoulder, he looked over at where Jake was still sitting at the table. Did Jake look thrilled? No, definitely not. But he didn’t look completely irate when he met Bradley’s gaze. Bradley, however, did not hide the fact that he still wanted to punch Jake in the face for what he did. 

“Whatever you need,” Bradley repeated as he and Jake glared at each other.

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[sserasin]

ahhh drabble about reader riding natty’s face because natty was too loud? maybe from natty’s pov?

face riding w/ natty

cw nsfw under cut, female reader, oral (receiving), degrading names (slut)

natty thinks she could die like this.

with you sitting on her face, letting her eat you out— she wouldn’t care if a bomb dropped or if someone walked in. her whole life could be ruined, or at the very least, blackmailed, and she wouldn’t care as long as she could taste your sweet juices.

“can’t talk now, huh?” you pant, betraying your composed state as a low moan leaves your lips a second after. you grind your hips down, eyes closing as natty thrusts her tongue in and out of your hole. “you’re so shameless— you don’t even care, do you?”

natty attempts to shake her head in protest, making you moan louder this time and you slap a hand over your mouth at the new angle, “oh— oh shit, do that again—”

natty listens without hesitation, shaking her head and bumping her nose into your clit. she loves that you’re basically fucking yourself on her tongue, that you’re using her.

your hand grips her hair, putting your foot up on the bed and raising up, bringing her head up with you. her moan is cut off by her face being shoved in your pussy, the vibrations making you bite back a moan and try to gain your composure again, saying, “what did i say? be quiet. you don’t want your members to hear their natty be used like the slut she is?”

natty finally realizes that she’s bucking her hips up into the air, trying to hump something, anything— but it’s not there. she whines pathetically, sound muffled as she looks up from you under her eyelashes. she moves her mouth up and sucks on your clit, switching frantically and messily between your clit and hole.

your breath hitches, “you want to let julie and belle know how much you love eating pussy? love eating my pussy, and only mine?” your hips stutter, her hands gripping your thighs to hold you down so you can’t get up. the top half of your body falters, your hand gripping the top of the headboard. your head turns back slightly, and whatever you see makes you laugh, “oh, that really turned you on th—that bad? you came without me even touching you.”

she can’t even bring herself to care that her cum soaked her underwear sticky, or that you were clearly mocking her. it just made her eager to make you come even more, and she could tell you were there when your thighs tighten around her head as she vigorously fucks her tongue in and out of you, making sure her nose kept hitting your clit at the right angle.

your moan becomes high pitched, and she gasps slightly when you cum on her tongue, eagerly licking it all up. you attempt to pull her hands off of your thighs to let you up, but she refuses until she deems you clean of your juices and she’s swallowed every bit of it back.

your release is her most favorite flavor, and she could never get enough of you. you’re whining, she realizes in her haze, blinking up at you and finally letting go of you. you fall on the bed beside her, panting slighty.

natty gasps for breath, even daring to day, eyes flickering up and down your body hungrily, “next time, we sh—should try sixty-nine. you were loud, too.”

you don’t even have the energy to punish her or even glare at her, simply flickering your eyes over to her in annoyance, “how about i don’t let you come at all?”

natty shuts up and decides to start the bath.

[anonymous-dentist]

Hi, I’m A.D., I’m a historian, and let’s talk about the nuclear bomb and why the one that exploded at the end of QSMP’s Purgatory Event probably didn’t kill all that many people upon initially exploding.

The nuclear bomb, as everybody knows, has only ever been used in a war twice. Both explosions were caused by the United States in their war against Japan at the tail end of World War Two in one final terrible last ditch attempt at ending the war through any means necessary.

Pictured above are the atomic explosions at Hiroshima (left) and Nagasaki (right.)

These are big huge clouds, which makes sense! Nuclear weapons, on average, have the strength of somewhere between 10 and 50 megatons of TNT. Hydrogen bombs, meanwhile, are WAY worse, with the first test coming in at a whopping 10 MILLION tons of TNT.

To put it in Minecraft terms for all you nerds out there, imagine Doomsday from the Dream SMP and how it razed an entire nation to bedrock level by using somewhere in the range of 20 stacks of TnT (if I’m remembering correctly.) A nuclear bomb, in these terms, would have blown L’Manberg up something like eight times over and then some.

So that’s. Bad. Right?

Well, here’s the QSMP’s bomb as was constructed by our favorite depressed detective, q!Maximus:

This bomb, notably, is underground. It was never dug up, it was just moved somewhere else. It isn’t above ground, and it never left this room. Watch the cutscene back (linked here), the bomb never left the room.

So this is where underground nuclear testing comes in.

Underground testing began in 1951, and it remains the only form of scientific nuclear testing not banned by the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963.

No big surprise, a lot of early underground tests were conducted by the US out in Nevada, where they kinda tested nukes legit fucking EVERYWHERE in the desert for a long time. Below are some photos, just for funsies:

What’s important about underground nuclear explosions is that they actually end up releasing less radiation into the atmosphere than regular nukes do. What happens beyond that depends on whether or not the radiation remains contained.

A contained explosion’s aftermath:

And an uncontained explosion’s aftermath:

There hasn’t really been many negative biological effects reported from these underground tests, which is really saying something considering how close to nuclear blasts the US had its guys at most of the time (see below)

The worst you got out of the underground tests was some radioactivity in cows’ milk, which is NOTHING compared to the effects of the above-ground nuclear testing at the Nevada Site:

So… what does this mean for the QSMP?

Well, if we’re going off of historical and scientific precedent, legitimately nothing substantial happened to the islands of Purgatory. There’s more of a risk of dying from the pre-established radioactive rain disaster effects as well as the earthquake and meteor disasters.

Fun fact! Underground nuclear explosions usually registered as weaker than actual fault line activity, aka actual earthquakes.

If Maxo’s nuke was dropped from above, the devastation would be greater. Nuclear fallout is no joke; even today, cancer rates in the American West are still pretty high from the above-ground testing conducted at the Nevada Site. The Bikini Atoll will never be the same after all the testing the US did there, either.

But, because this nuke seemed to have gone off underground, I can safely assume that the damage done to the islands above was minimal at worst. Maybe there’s a radioactivity leak, but everybody staying on the islands had already experienced radiation up to that point.

It’s important to remember this because several characters did stay behind on the islands, and the fandom is assuming them dead because, well. A nuke went off. But those characters aren’t dead yet (outside of q!Maxo, who was possibly directly above the nuke when it went off and thus would’ve been hit full-force by the explosion.) Many were on the beach, far from the the nuke. They’re fine, and you can prove it with history!

TLDR; the nuke from the end of Purgatory was assumedly set off underground, which would have negated a lot of its potential damage, so everybody’s fine except for the unfortunately deceased q!Maxo

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.8

John Egan X Female! Reader

Sumarry: Bucky is woken up by bombs, but not he one he's usually drooping...

Warning: +18/ smut/ p and v/ unprotected sex (wrap it up)/ grinning/ talk about death/ use of Y/n/ historical inaccuracies/

Word count: 890 words

She was woken up by flash of lights. She didn’t know what it was, until her head turned to look at the window. Bombs, a town near London was getting bombed. The place next to her was cold, John Egan was not beside her. She sat on the bed and saw the men on a chair, in front of the window. ‘’Bucky, are you okay?’’ She asked, making his head turn. ‘’Did I wake you up?’’ he asked her. She shook her head, bringing the white blanket to cover her breast. ‘’The lights did’’ she answered. He deeply exhales and looked at the bombs. ‘’I’ve never been on this side of the bombing. I’ve always dropped them’’ he says. Y/n took at deep breath, she thought about what she was gonna say to him. ‘’Do you regret it?’’ she asked. He shook his head. ‘’It just feels weird, woke me up with the sound of the explosions’’ he explained. Y/n got up, left the blanket in the bed, took her panties off and walked towards her pilot. Bombs occasionally making enough light to see the hole room. When she reached the chair, she sat on the lap of her pilot, who had taken his boxers off when he saw her approaching. He instinctively put his hands on her hips, he started kissing her, hoping to get a distraction from the sounds of the multiple explosions. ‘’Do you think it’s weird?’’ she asked between kisses. ‘’What?’’ he said, with a raspy voice. She grinned against him, creating friction. She felt him getting hard underneath her, it made her wet, seeing the power she had over him. ‘’The closer you are to death, the more alive you feel’’ she stated, kissing Bucky, again. He putted one of his hands behind her neck, just like when they kissed for the first time. He stopped kissing her, took her chin with his fingers, while she tried to kiss him again. ‘’And I thought, I was dramatic when I drank’’ He chuckled. She smiles as she let out a breath. ‘’You are dramatic, Major.’’ She laughed as she placed herself on his hard cock. She sunk down on him, she was wet enough to make it easy and painless.

‘’What are you’’ he moaned. ‘’You need a, ah, a distraction from this.’’ She started moving her hips, to a slow, sensual pace. She wanted to help him to try and forget the bombing. Bucky’s heart was racing, they were kissing lazily. It wasn’t fast sex, or the type of sex they had earlier. It was gentle and familiar; it was sweet. ‘’How should I call you now? Sir, major or Bucky?’’ she teased, between kisses. He smiled against her lips, caressing her lower back, gently guiding her to a fastest pace. ‘’Hold your horses, Major, we have all the time in the w-world’’ she stuttered when she felt him hit her G-spot with his cock. She kissed his neck as she kept the sensual pace. The rhythm was killing him, but he was enjoying every second of it. ‘’Please, darling, go faster, you’re killing me here’’ he whimpered, sending butterflies to her stomach. Making her squeeze his length. He chuckled. ‘’You like when I make noises, darling?’’ he teased. She nodded and kissed him again. She started to roll her hips faster, letting his hands guide the rhythm. He left his head fall on the chair. ‘’Atta girl’’ he breathed out. She smirked and continued her fast pace. He started to kiss her tits, she arched her back, making it easier for him to kiss her breast.

She moaned his name as he kept kissing her chest. ‘’Forgive my lips, they find pleasure in the most unusual places.’’ He said, smirking. She kept rolling her hips until his breathing became faster. ‘’Darling, I’m gonna c- ‘’ he couldn’t even finish his sentence as his orgasm shook his hole body. Y/n came too, they kissed again. Not even bothering in taking their breath. But eventually, they had to breath, so they stopped kissing. They looked at each other before she brought her head closer to him. Their forehead was touching. They kept chasing after their breath, bombs brining enough light for the both of them to see the other’s face. ‘’Thank you, darling’’ he said, tugging a piece of her hair behind her ear. ‘’For the orgasm?’’ she joked, quoting him. ‘’That’s my line, sweetheart’’ he laughed.

She smiled as she got up from his lap, putting her panties back on. He did the same thing as he went back into the bed. ‘’If you wake up again, wake me up too. You won’t be alone’’ she smiled. He nodded kissing her forehead. ‘’Try to get some sleep, Bucky, after all, you deserve it’’ she said. He nodded; he kept her in his arms. He was a cuddler, he felt like he was protecting her from everything when she was in his arms, it helped him sleep, it calmed his mind from the things he was seeing, she was calming him down. She felt asleep hearing his heartbeat. It calmed her down, hearing he was okay. She was used to unregular or really fast heartbeat, but Bucky’s was just normal. It calmed her down, helping her to fall asleep.

Part 9⬇️

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not going to my brother's wedding?

I (35F) and my brother (29M) have always had a bit of a rocky relationship. Like, don't get me wrong, I love him, always have, always will. That said, we've been at each other's throats since he was capable of speech, and probably will be until one of us dies of spite.

My brother, let's call him Carter, has been in an on-and-off relationship with Taylor (29F) ever since they were in middle school. Personally, I hate Taylor, and I'm fine keeping it that way. She treats Carter like shit, she's cheated on him more times than I can count, she steals money from him, she is just an awful person to be around. Like, don't get me wrong, Carter's also an asshole, but can you really blame him considering what he has to deal with?

Now, a few months ago, they broke things off after Taylor stole his car to go and hook up with a guy in another state. He got the car back, told her to go fuck herself, and that was that. In the meantime, he ended up moving in with his best friend since high school (28M), let's call him Tim, and they have been no contact with Taylor ever since. About a month ago, I was talking to Carter, and he sheepishly told me that he had realized he was bisexual and was now dating Tim.

Honestly, I was ecstatic. Like, he and Taylor have been a thing for forever, and despite all of their breakups, I've never seen Carter actually date someone other than her. Also, Tim is someone that has a really good head on his shoulders. He can be a dick, but honestly, so can Carter, and he's really smart and down-to-earth. I was super accepting, of course, and I told Carter how happy I was for him, how glad I was to see him moving on and living his best life with someone that actually respects him.

Fast forward to last week. It's my day off, and I'm hanging out at my house, getting some chores done, when I get a call from Carter. I pick up and ask him how he's doing, and he tells me that he's doing good, but he wants me to come down to the courthouse. I ask him what for, and he tells me he's getting married! I'm kind of in shock, like--yeah, I'm glad he's with Tim, but isn't that a little fast?

That is, of course, when he drops the bomb on me: He's not marrying Tim. Taylor came crawling back yesterday and proposed to him. He's marrying Taylor.

I lose it a bit, I ask him if he's lost his mind, and we get into a shouting match over the phone. He tells me I'm being a bitch, I tell him it'll be a cold day in hell when I just stand there like a dumbass at his and Taylor's wedding. I don't go, they get married, that's that.

Yesterday, I went out to get lunch at my usual spot, and who do I see but Tim. I sit down with him and ask him how he's doing, ask him what's going on in his life, and so on. I tell him I feel so awful that things went sideways with Carter, and tell Tim that he's always a part of our family, even if Carter's lost his mind and dumped the best thing that's ever happened to him. Tim gives me a weird look, and asks what I'm talking about. I tell him that I heard about Carter and Taylor getting married, and that's when he drops the bomb on me that he's still in a relationship with Carter.

At first, I'm pissed at Carter for cheating on Tim, but Tim reassures me that he's into it--something I wouldn't have expected from him. I mean, I'm glad Carter still has Tim in his life I guess, but I still feel like he's being a dick to Tim. I don't tell Tim that, but I do tell him that I can't accept my brother marrying Taylor.

He tells me that he knows, but that Carter's been miserable since the wedding after I didn't show up. Tim tells me that Carter misses me, and that he's really been hoping I reach out. That's a surprise to me, because he's been saying he's not going to talk to me again until I apologize.

I really do care about my brother, but I can't pretend I support him marrying someone that's just going to keep being a toxic presence in his life. I don't care about how many people he's in a relationship with, or whether he's straight or bi or gay or whatever. I just want him to be safe and happy, and I know this relationship is really bad for him. Tim seems to think I should have just sucked it up and gone to his wedding anyways for the sake of my relationship with him. I'm starting to have doubts--I know I hurt him. But I also don't feel sorry. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[beefrobeefcal]

Let's Get Physical! feat. Marcus Pike & f!Reader

a Marcus Pike one shot | Rated: 18+ | word count: 3,883 warnings: swearing, rougher p in the v unprotected sex, fingering, talk about weight gain, belly appreciation, self esteem issues surrounding weight, reader is assumed to be shorter and lighter than Marcus, reader has long enough hair for Marcus to grip,

A/N: Okay y'all... here's the mam himself! Thank you to @rebel-held for their dedication and holding vigil for his arrival, and for @yahtiwakitakos for their love of Marcus! Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalpascal & @neverwheremoonchild for their eyes & thoughtful insight.

As soon as you’d gotten the desk next to Marcus, he knew you’d be friends. He’d transferred out of being on the field and to the home office in your state after a personal matter had him decide to transfer. Since that point, you’d worked closely together, learning almost everything you could about one another.

You’d taken to him almost immediately, but his kind and aloof manner kept you from pushing further to see if there was something more. You’d eventually fallen into a content and friendly rapport that turned into a work-based friendship.

Marcus learned about your love of reading, allowing you to collect obscure information, and you’d learned that he did not cook, opting for take out at every meal.

You’d even earned nicknames from one another. You called him Pickles after a long-forgotten joke about his last name, and he called you Dex, short for Poindexter, given you aptitude for Trivial Pursuit.

You worked side by side for four years, and in that time, you’d noted that Marcus had gained weight, but it wasn’t that noticeable – it was gradual. His clothing had always fit. He'd never had an ill-fitting suit or a too-tight dress shirt or jacket. Yes, you'd notice his weight fluctuate and increase, but he camouflaged it well with his clothing.  Sure, he’d developed a bit of a softer jawline under the scruff on his face - it enhanced his pout with those big brown eyes; and yeah, his middle looked less trim, as did his thighs…

You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care – Marcus was your friend.

You repeated those lies every time he’d look up at you and ask if you were ready for lunch or pat your shoulder as he said you’d done a good job. You did notice his waistline increasing and you thought it was sexy and hot, but your own internal battle with self image and weight had tarnished your ability to admit you liked heavier men and watched to help them get heavier.

You so badly wished he was more than a friend. He was kind and sweet, and never swore, even going so far as to tell you to ‘behave’ or ‘watch your mouth’ when you left an f-bomb slip. The way his big brown eyes watched you, you wished they were imagining you naked and crying out for him, and as you’d lose yourself in this fiction, he’d bring you back to earth, asking if you’d read the latest case file.

You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care because Marcus was your friend.

*****

“Morning, Dex!”, he called as he meandered to his desk. He had two coffees in his hands from your favourite coffee shop… the one that was out of the way for him to get to on his way to the office… the one he only stopped at when he either needed a favour or had bad news.

You narrowed your eyes at him and motioned to the coffee with a pointed finger. “Stop. What’s that for?”

“Just wanted to get my best girl a coffee. S’that a crime?”, he smiled, trying to force as much innocence from his eyes as possible.

You didn’t move from your position and raised your brow. He sighed and put the coffees on the desk and slumped his shoulders, letting his work satchel drop to the floor.

“I need your help.”

“I knew it.”

“But you can’t laugh.”

His last statement made you freeze. Looking up at him, his face looked slightly pained as his winced, waiting for the sign to continue.

“Out with it, Pickles.”

“They want agents to be in the field. I saw the sign last night as I was leaving, so I looked into it. Don’t get me wrong – love the office but I miss field work.”

He paused, eyes searching your face for approval. You could see the worry on him, the fear of rejection to his idea. You nodded, arms gently moving from their crossed position, and you reached for the cup closest to you on his desk and took a sip. It was good coffee and you hummed in approval.

Marcus let out a breath he more than likely didn’t realize he was holding and continued. “There’s a catch thought – I have to pass a physical.”

You just about spat our coffee out and swallowed it funny, causing you to start coughing. You waved him off, sputtering an ‘I’m okay.’ as you motioned for him to keep talking.

“Yeah… uh – so the physical.”, he said slowly, watching you carefully with a bit of worry.  “I have to pass the one I did when I was a rookie… the one we all had to pass. You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded again, trying to get the image of Marcus huffing and puffing on a treadmill, sweaty and just a plain mess… the same way you’d imagined he’d be on top of you… rutting and jack hammering you into your mattress…

“Yeah! Just peachy, Pickles!”, you croaked, the rasped out a laugh. “You want to go in the field and leave me behind? Be Mister Bigshot and meet some other prettier coworker to bring coffee?”

You were trying to tease him, but your words and the sharpness of your tongue sounded like they aimed to wound, and it wasn’t lost on Marcus.

“Well, why not come with me? We could be partners.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of travelling with Marcus to different art crime scenes. You’d never been able to shake the stories he told about the weird things he’d investigated in the field. Yeah, there were the big things, but you were more intrigued by the obscure things he’d investigated, like the unnamed famous actor who’s inadvertently bought stolen vintage clown pornography, or the weird old grumpy suburban guy who cluelessly had a priceless - albeit mundane - horse painting hanging in his bedroom, or the time some government worker was caught at the airport with illegally imported erotic art from South America that reeked of cigarettes.

The idea had merit and you nodded, cautiously optimistic.

*****

"Look, I know what I said, but maybe...", Marcus called out from behind the bathroom door. "...maybe I am a little more out of shape than I thought." You stopped your advancement down the hallway and chuckled with a smile.

"What are you talking about?"

"It... it-uh... it fits... different."

You paused and as the cogs in your head turned, trying to decipher what he meant. It hit you and you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face as your smile exploded into a wide-eyed grin.

If what you were thinking was true, the gym clothing that was standard issue for all new FBI trainees - and would be the required outfit for his upcoming physical fitness test - would give you an eye full of how pudgy he'd really gotten. While sitting in your thoughts, your silence made Marcus nervous.

Deciding to just rip the band-aid off, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

Your jaw dropped.

You’d seen the pictures of him during training. The clean-shaven sharp jaw and trim toned body clad in a too big t-shirt and knee length shorts.

That was not who stood before you. His shorts, while tighter, still looked like they fit. But that poor t-shirt was pulled tight across his broad chest and shoulders, and the hem was unable to traverse his ample middle, exposing about an inch above his belly button down to the curve of his underbelly and giving you a full view of his love handles.  

His face was flushed, and his eyes pleaded with you. You cleared your throat and smiled, trying to hide the fact that your core was clenching on nothing.

“It fits!”, you managed to squeak out and Marcus look at you stupefied and held his hands open to his sides.

“Really?”, he asked in exasperation, raising his eyebrows. “You think this – “, he motioned to his middle. “- qualifies as fitting?”

“I mean, you got it on? That means it sort of fits?” You winced as you spoke, trying to keep a pleasant smile.

“Fuck!”

You jumped as he let out one the loudest ‘fuck’s you’d ever heard, and your eyes grew wide that it was him who yelled it. He threw his hands up in the air and stood with his hands on his hips, knee popped. His jaw tensed as he looked away, stuck in thought, and you took the opportunity to gaze over his body, noting the way his stomach moved with each frustrated breath and the way his shoulders pulled the absolute life out of the shirt’s seams.

You were lost in thought ogling him and didn’t notice that he’d turned his attention back to you. When you finally looked up at him, both feeling your faces heat up slightly and an awkward silence sat heavy between you.

You decided to break the silence first, clearing your throat again. “Pickles, you… you look great.”

Marcus stated to laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him.

“I know I look like a busted overstuffed sausage – “

“Oh, stop it!”, you hushed him, stepping towards him. “Okay, sure, it doesn’t fit quite the same, but nobody stays the same size their whole life.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk and nodded. “Fine.”

*****

So far, all the equipment in his apartment complex’s gym were now Marcus’ sworn enemies. The last three hours had been filled with Marcus angrily sweating and using every curse and swearword under the sun. He was so focused on being angry that he forwent any self consciousness about his clothes not fitting.

After another failed attempt at trying to navigate the elliptical, he yelled “PISSING SHITTING FUCKING COCK SUCKING MOTHER FUCKER!!”  and stormed out of the gym. You quickly grabbed the things he left in his departure and followed him.

*****

“Fuck it! I’m not fucking doing this!”, he boomed, furiously ripping open his refrigerator and grabbing the carton of chocolate milk and chugged it.

You quietly tried to get him to water to hydrate, and contemplated asking why his swearing sounded so natural when you’d never heard him use anything harsher than ‘fiddlesticks’ prior to this. “Marcus… maybe some water would – “

He finished the chocolate milk then tossed the carton haphazardly into the sink, and his eyes aggressively looked you up and down. You closed your mouth and stood, light a deer in headlights, nervously fidgeting your hands as you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! I know what you’re thinking!”, he barked at you, making you jump. “God dammit! You think I’m too fat and out of fucking shape to pass that physical! And you know what?”, he yelled, grabbing one of the giant pretzels he’d picked up yesterday from the kiosk in the mall. “You’re fucking right!”

He angrily bit into the pretzel and chewed, then huffed and ripped open the fridge again and grabbed a king-size can a beer. You watched, bewildered and bewitched, as he maneuvered between chomps and gulps of the pretzel and beer.

You’d never seen him this enraged and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Sure, you’d seen him get snide or lippy when he was frustrated, but you had no idea he could turn his temper up to eleven and he had such a vast array of foul words in his vocabulary – and find it so hot. You were staring at him, seeing that once he’d finished the pretzel, his hand went to his underbelly, pitching and kneading it slightly as he downed the rest of the beer. Your eyes were then pulled to his crotch in the almost too-small shorts and the noticeable bulge that had developed there.

Your lips parted and your brows tented. Marcus kept his eyes on your face, seeing the reaction you were having to his meltdown. It egged him on, knowing that you were getting something out of this. He’d longed for the chance to get to hold you beyond the occasional side hug or shoulder bump, wanting to touch you and make you feel as beautiful as he saw you. But he’d assumed you were completely fine being friends, given the way his weight had creeped up. He didn’t want to lose you by making a move and wrecking the chance to get the pieces of you that you allowed him to have access to. He’d stayed respectful, and courteous, and friendly, all while desperately wishing he was yours. But all that went out the window the moment he felt rage course through his veins and saw you look at him like that. He wanted you to be his.

He threw the empty beer can aside, hearing its tinny landing by the sink, and stalked towards you. Taken slightly aback at how aggressive his body language was, you stepped back and were stopped by the counter behind you. Marcus crowded you, standing over you, his belly moving against you with every ragged, angry breath.

“Marc – “

His name was cut off in your mouth as his collided with yours. He roughly grabbed your waist with one huge hand while the other held your face. He dominated the kiss, his tongue pushing for entrance again your lips, and you let him in, tasting the hoppy beer and salty yeast of the pretzel. As the passion built between you, the kiss deepened, becoming more fervent and urgent. His hands roamed, pulling you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. There was no rhythm to this kiss; it was him exploring and dominating and you submitting to him and your desperate needs.

You finally parted, panting and breathless. He looked beautiful; his eyes were dark with blown pupils and his lips were reddened.  The hand that had held your waist moved down to the crux of your thighs and pressed against your Athleisure legging-clad core. Your mouth opened and a soft, breathy whine barely sounded out. The fury in his eyes had ebbed and morphed into an aggressive and possessive need, but he watched you, looking for any sign to stop. You gave nothing but green lights.

He leaned his face closer to yours, his nose nudging your cheek. You let out a small whimper and nodded, tilting your head, and he grazed his teeth along your cheek to your jaw, then bit down softly. With his mouth on you, he growled through his teeth, “Mine.”

He pulled back and turned your around, pushing your palms onto the counter, and he stood flush with his front to your back. As he grinded against you and bit and kissed your neck, he pushed your leggings down over your ass with one hand, the other pushed between your legs in the front.

“Oh fuck… you’re soaked, baby…”, he growled, biting the back of your neck. His middle finger ran along your seam, pulling a mewling whine from your mouth.

“You want me? Tell me you want me.”

When you didn’t answer beyond a frantic nod, he said your name in a low snarl and his grip on you tightened. “I asked you a question.”

“Mar-Marcus! Please!”, you cried out, feeling his finger circle then tap your throbbing nub repeatedly. You felt him smile against your neck, his other hand palming and squeezing your tit, and he started fucking into your wet heat with his pointer and index fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous… so funny… so smart… and you’re letting this fat guy finger you in his kitchen…”

His thumb caught your clit in the haste of his hand’s movement, and you let out a surprised yelp and your body jolted. The hand gripping your breast came up your sternum and secured itself around your throat gently, forcing you upright and flush against him.

“Juicy little snatch… just gripping my fingers, baby… you - you gonna cum for me, Dex baby?”

You whined and nodded. His hand moved up and he pushed two fingers into your mouth, exerting the power he had over you. He did it because he could, because you let him. You were both learning more about the other: he wanted to dominate, you wanted to be dominated.

You came as he pressed your tongue down, almost eliciting a gag from you. It felt filthy and raw and everything you’d hoped but never thought Marcus could be.

“There is it… Good girl… You’re mine… I’m gonna fuck that into you.”, he grunted and pulled both sets of fingers from your wet holes, shoving you down flush with the counter.

You’d barely finished cumming, let alone gotten through the aftershocks making your cunt flutter as he shoved his shorts down and lined up his cock with you and pushed in.

“Jesus fuck…”, you groaned. “You’re s’fucking big!”

“You like me big… say it. Say you like me being a fat desk jockey…”

“Yes… god yes…”

“Like seeing me eat, too, huh?... like watching me get fat?”

“Yes! Please… Marcus, please!”

You felt the beginnings of another orgasm as he pounded into you from behind and filled your mind with the images of him stuffing himself stupid on take out at work while you sat on his lap and helped feed him. It was a guilt-filled fantasy that you’d never allowed yourself to fully process and accept until this moment.

Marcus pulled out of you suddenly. Fearing you did something wrong, you made a frantic and breathless ‘huh?’ sound. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum, Dex.”

You couldn’t help but smile; Marcus was ever the romantic.

He tossed you on the bed and crawled up to you, pushing your legs apart. He took a moment to look at your pussy, smirking with a smug head shake, then locked eyes with you. He leaned forward, one hand landing beside your head and his other hand grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him, guiding his cock back into your desperate, wet cunt.

“Look at you… just gorgeous… “, he marveled with smug satisfaction as he pounded into you, watching your eyes close, brows furrow, and lips part to let out a soft pant.

His thumb came down on your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles. “Come on, Dex… gimme one so I can watch… lemme see…”

“Marcus… I’m close…”

“I know, pretty girl… give it to me… come on… gimme one I can see…”

“Yes… right there! Right there!”

His thumb hit just the right angle and you fell apart as he pistoned you on his cock. Your hand reached up, gripping the arm above your head, and you arched your back in pure bliss.

“There it is… there you go… fuck, good girl… look at you… so god dammed pretty…”

The noises you made sounded alien coming from your mouth. You’d never heard this cacophony of whines, cries, mewls and moans come from your body before, and Marcus was revelling in it. He removed his thumb form your oversensitive nub, and he brought him body down onto your as he continued to thrust into you. His weight felt amazing; it was everything and ore than what you could have hoped, and you needed more of it on you. You hooked one leg on his hip, then brought the other one up, trying to lock your ankles. Marcus was too big, his love handled waist too wide and his thrusts now to frantic to get a good latch.

You raised your head and captured his mouth in a messy kiss, and he interlocked his fingers into yours. He panted into your mouth as you made eye contact; gone was the ferocious and angry man who’d fucked you in his kitchen and back was Marcus: sweet, funny, soft Marcus.

“Come on, Pickles.”, you whispered against his lips with a wry grin.

The surrendering groan that tumbled out of him matched perfectly with his out of rhythm thrusts.

“You gonna let me cum in you? Please?”, he panted, hips stuttering.

Nodding, you desperately whined, “Yeah… yes, please… please… c-cum in me!”

Marcus dropped his forehead onto yours. With a few more snaps of his hips with corresponding grunts, he let out a string of groans and panting breaths, then stilled in you.

You were both breathing hard, and his fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly in yours as he came down from his high. Your mouth found his again briefly, then he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. His brows furrowed and his eyes softened further, as if the weight of what had just happened suddenly dawned on him and he was worried this was it for the two of you.

“Hey… hey hey hey…”, you soothed, hand coming up to cup his cheek, a soft smile on your face. “It’s okay… I’m okay.”

He nodded, still unsure, the blurted out, “I like you so much, Dex. I wanted this for so long…and I wanted it to be special, and – “

“It was special!”, you beamed with a smile, loving how adorably flustered he looked in contrast to before. “You hulked out and railed me in your kitchen!”

He stopped and looked at you, dumbfounded. Slowly, a smile peaked out on one side of his mouth. “You liked that.”, he huffed out in a laugh. “Dex, you kinky girl!”

You laughed and playfully slapped his arm. “Knock it off, Pickles!”

He pulled his softening cock from you and kissed you, both of you giggling.

Marcus pulled away and teased, “You liked getting railed by a fat guy… in the kitchen…”

“Yeah, I did!”, you challenged with a smile. “And I hope that fat guy does it again!”

His breath hitched and he swallowed, looking away for a moment. “So, you’re okay with…?”

He couldn’t finish saying what he wanted to. Years of poor self esteem and heart-breaking moments with other women wouldn’t let him, nor did that part of him want to hear your answer in case it was rejection. Your hand guided his face back to you.

“I wouldn’t have let you if I wasn’t.

His smile softened. “How about a date first?”

You couldn’t help the heat and shy smile that bloomed on your face, and he watched as you melted into his words.

*****

Marcus walked into the office the next Monday, carrying another two coffees from your favourite place. You were preoccupied with one of your coworkers but shit him a smile before returning your attention to the file before you.

He placed the coffees down, hung his coat and bag, then noticed the collection of tupperwear containers with a sticky note on them.

Getting takeout is fine, but this is a sampling of what I can do for you. Xoxo Dex.

He opened a few of the containers and in them were homemade versions of his absolute favourite take out meals. He brought one to his nose and inhaled, just as your coworker left the room. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, patting and squeezing his belly.

Marcus deciding he wasn’t ever going to need to pass a physical again.

No more tag list! follow @beefnotes for fic updates!

[leejenowrld]

Hii, thank you so much for writing the fluff of jeno taking care of y/n when she’s sick and yess I would love a one on soft aftercare 💗💗💗💗

yes ofc!!

word count - 1.4k

Your breathing goes frantic, tears streaming down your face as you’re screaming out his name. Jeno leans down to you with a gentle kiss on your lips, you can feel his smile. With all the strength you can muster, you try to bring your arms around him but then you remember you had been handcuffed.

You look at him with a pout and he coos. grabbing the key and removing the lock on your hands. You instantly grab his arms, kissing him back softly, tears still streaming down and pussy still shaking with sensitivity but you feel so good, he always makes you feel good.

You protest when he tries to lean up and lift his cock from inside of you, you want to stay like this for a few more moments, he knows that. He sighs, using his finger to wipe the mess he had left on your face, his cum, your tears, his spit, before grabbing a tissue from your bedside table and wiping off the excess.

“You good, baby?” He questions, breaking out in a grin as he breaks the silence.

“Y-Yeah, so good—for me.” You say with difficulty, words mixed with heavy breathing but you try your but to meet his grin.

He coos about how cute and good you always are for him. “I love you. I’ll be right back.” With a heavy moan, he leans up and takes himself out from inside of you, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he sees all the juices and wetness from your passionate love making trailing down the insides of your thighs. He knows he’s gonna have to clean you up.

“Don’t you dare fall sleep.” He points his hand out to you with a warning and you hum, trying to shake your head but before you know it, your eyelids become heavy and your head is lolling to the side. It was a bad habit you had, it took you mere seconds to fell asleep after fucking and it always made Jeno annoyed because he hasn’t had the chance to clean you up, massage you and shower you yet.

Your eyes open so quickly it’s whiplash. You feel his strong arms gently reach out to your sides as he lifts you up, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom, softly dropping you into the running bath. He lowers himself down and comes in behind you, legs wide as you sit in the space in between him, your body facing his, you truly can’t move your legs or else you would’ve wrapped them around his waist.

The way he’s looking at you is filled with so much intensity and love, it still has you shy after three years. Your cheeks flush with red and you feel giddy, he still has this effect on you. “Hi, my love.” You whisper, becoming embarrassed over your random and out of place words but his reply comes shortly after.

“Hi, my pretty girl.”

You relax as the scent overtakes you, a bath bomb that he knows is your favourite, he’s purchased it time and time again. He grabs your favourite body wash that he keeps in his bathroom, firstly using a cloth to gently wipe away every trace of the sweat and the cum that had accumulated all over your body. Then following with his hands to massage your limbs with love, the sensation of his touch on you making you lean back and shudder, you were nearly transformed to your orgasmic state from earlier before, especially as his fingertips lightly brushed against your pussy, an area still throbbing with heavy sensitivity.

“You’re such a good girl, you took me so well.” He praises into your ear, words filled with sweet love as he presses soft kisses against your cheek. “You’re always so good for me.”

“Do you want me to cook for you or do you just wanna sleep?” He’s asking but he already knows the answer, he chuckles when you agree to the latter with so much enthusiasm.

“I haven’t slept in like, 3 nights.” You whisper quietly, your words barely audible but you’re so close to him that he can feel your voice buzzing against his body.

“Just a little longer and then we can sleep, just hold on for me, ok? Just stay awake for a few more minutes.” He explains to you softly, smiling against your skin when you nod immediately.

He helps you out of the shower, holding you up against his body when you nearly fall, lifting you up gently to sit up against the countertop when he realises you cannot stand or sit without any support. He grabs one of his fluffy towels and wipes your body clean and dry.

He grabs one of his long shirts and effortlessly pulls it over your head, a proud smile as he admires the sight. His girl, eyes heavy with lust and tire, trying your best to stay awake for him as you give him a lazy smile, sitting so good for him and looking so beautiful in his clothes.

He carries you up again, immediately sighing as you drop onto the soft covers. You outstretch your arms, a sign that you would only sleep in his arms but he tells you one minute. He silently feeds you water, ensuring you drink a good amount and staying hydrated, ignoring every protest. If it wasn’t for him shoving your water bottle in front of your lips every now and then, then you’d be so dehydrated.

All he wears is his boxers before the weight on the bed dips and he makes his way over to you, discarding his pillow as his head falls on yours. You become lost in his eyes, cupping onto his cheeks softly and leaning in to kiss him but his words distract you from doing so. He suddenly removes himself from you and you pout, crossing your arms but your annoyance subsides into giddy happiness when you feel him kissing every inch of your body, just like he had done all night long, but this time he was apologising with his words, his lips trailing up your legs and up your chest until he met your lips.

In a tender moment, your lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, and the delicate dance of intimacy unfolded. Fingers traced the lines of faces, weaving through strands of hair with a gentle caress. The kiss deepened, tongues entwining in a slow, rhythmic exchange—an unspoken dialogue of desire. Soft smiles adorned your lips, accompanied by signs and muted moans, creating a shared symphony of pleasure. The outside world faded as hands explored the contours of each other's skin, emphasising a connection expressed through tactile language. In that quiet space, your intertwined actions spoke volumes, revealing a profound connection that left you breathless and yearning for more.

Jeno's words hung in the air like a gentle melody. "I'm always so proud of you." he whispered, his voice a soft caress that carried an undercurrent of affection.

"I love you, Jeno." you expressed, your words a simple yet profound declaration. His response, a warm smile, conveyed a depth of emotion that echoed through the quiet moments they shared.

"I love you the most." he playfully asserted, his smile growing. The room held a serene ambiance, the lingering echoes of their intimate connection painting the atmosphere with a comforting warmth.

As you shyly shared, "It was so good tonight," a hint of vulnerability colored your voice. Jeno, ever attentive, responded with reassurance, "It always is." his coo a balm to any lingering uncertainties.

Playfully changing the subject, he lifted three fingers, injecting a touch of humor into the moment. "How many?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. Squinting and trying your best, you deliberated before answering, "Two."

He tsked in mock disappointment, and you, ever quick to defend, playfully retorted, "Yes, I'm fucked out of my mind, but I'm also blind. You know that." The shared laughter that followed painted the room with a lightness, the intimacy of the night unfolding in the gentle exchange of words.

As you drifted into the tranquil embrace of sleep, your breathing settled into a rhythmic melody, harmonizing with the quietude of the night. Jeno, observing the peaceful scene, couldn't resist the tenderness in his smile. Softly, he planted a gentle kiss upon your forehead, whispering words of love into the stillness. "I'm going to marry you," he murmured, a sweet promise hanging in the air. As sleep's gentle tendrils wrapped around you, Jeno, too, succumbed to its embrace, finding solace in the shared dreams that awaited both of you.

[initialchains]

10 things i hate about you | anthony lockwood.

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: george karim falls in love with your sister, and the only thing standing between him and the love of his life is the fact that she isn’t allowed to date unless you do, too. luckily for him, anthony lockwood would do anything for a bit of publicity.

wc: 5.8k (part one)

a/n: hii i felt so bad for leaving you all hanging, but finals week left me extremely burnt out and tired. luckily, the lockwood brainrot is neverending, so as a way of saying sorry here’s the first part of this silly ol’ fic. (including the first five things to hate about lockwood.)  i’m also super sorry for the next part because it will be 90% angst lol ++ this is inspired by the movie but not completely based on it bc it’s my all time favorite film and i was scared of not doing it justice.

Lucy swore she was going to quit the agency again if George didn’t stop pacing around the kitchen like an idiot. She kept thinking of things to say to get him to stop, but a part of her also wanted to see how long this pathetic situation in front of her would take, she knew it wouldn’t be long until their researcher got tired of walking back and forth. And that’s where she is now. Sitting in the kitchen, an empty mug staring back at her, while George kept pacing in front of her and Lockwood.

“Hey, George! I have an idea. Why don’t you sit down and tell us what’s going on like a normal person, instead of just muttering I’m so fucked over and over?” 

George finally stopped and looked up at her. He stood still for a few seconds before taking a seat next to Lockwood.

“Well, I’m fucked.”

“Yeah, I think we heard that part.”

“Luce, stop,” Lockwood said in the softest voice he could muster, before turning to George. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe we can help.”

George took a deep breath before starting. “So, you know how I’ve been telling you both and Holly about that one girl from the archives?”

Lockwood smiled at that. The thought of George crushing on a girl after bonding with her about their love for research is still one of the cutest things he has ever heard.

“Oh, right. How are things going with her? Is everything alright?” 

“Well, sort of. I mean, everything is alright, but just when I thought of finally making a move on her, she kind of, um… dropped a bomb on me?” 

“A bomb? But you already knew she’s a Fittes agent, that’s not new.” Lucy stated. 

“Yes, I know. And trust me, there’s nothing wrong with that.” George continued, “She is the sweetest, most intelligent, beautiful human being to have ever lived. I mean it.” 

Lucy and Lockwood shared a knowing look. George was totally a goner for this girl.

“Then.. just ask her out?” Lockwood suggested, watching carefully as George fidgeted with the thinking cloth, now too shy to look at his friends.

“That’s the problem, I can’t,” George explained, before pulling his glasses away and rubbing his eyes. The stress of the situation clearly getting the best of him.

“Okay, this will probably be a stupid question, but.. why?” Lucy asked, genuinely confused by the problem her friend was going through. Sure, asking someone out is frightening, but it’s not like George was about to fight a type two without any kind of protection.

George took a deep breath before finally explaining. “She can’t go out with me unless her sister gets a date, too.” 

Lucy almost laughed at how stupid the so-called bomb was. “Well, ask one of her colleagues to woo her or something. She’s a Fittes agent too, right?” She suggested, remembering the only fact they knew about said sister. “She must know a bunch of people willing to date her.” 

George found the strength to look up, making eye contact with Lockwood and then turning to Lucy, before finally dropping the bomb on them. “I can’t, everyone at Fittes despises her.” 

Shit.

Lockwood and Lucy didn’t even have to think twice about who the sister in question was. There’s only one person who is loathed by every single Fittes agent, and surprisingly it isn’t Quill Kipps. George was talking about Fittes’ very own heinous bitch. (Obviously, the nickname was granted by the one and only Bobby Vernon. But to be fair, it’s not like he is the most reliable of people. Lockwood took note of that.)

Portland Row was silent for a few moments until Lucy finally spoke up. “Well, George. The world is wide, there will always be other people for you to fall for.” 

“Luce.” Lockwood warned her. 

“I’m trying to help!” 

“I know you are, but George really likes this girl.” He explained

“I think I might be in love with her. No, scratch that. I am in love with her.” George confessed in a small whisper.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Luce.”

“Sorry!” 

“I told you we would try to help, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Right, Lucy?” Lockwood looked at her, an unspoken beg passing between them. 

“Fine, yeah, we will. What do you know about her sister? Maybe we can find someone with the same interests as her. Like umm.. Holly? or the guy who sweeps the floor at Arif’s?” Lucy almost winced at how stupid their repertoire of options was, the three of them were friends with a limited number of people, and by limited she meant Holly and a guy who always greets them when they get something from Arif’s

George thought for a few moments about everything he knew about her. “I know she’s a team leader–” He couldn’t even finish his list, let alone his sentence, because before he could even continue, Lockwood stood up. 

“I’ll do it.” He said with a small shrug, almost as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

A chorus of “I’m sorry?” and “What the fuck?” were heard at the same time, but Lockwood couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to do this. 

“What? You said you wanted someone to woo her. Right, Luce?” He explained as he took Lucy’s empty mug away from her and moved to the sink. 

Lockwood’s back faced them while he washed their used dishes. “Yes, but.. why do you want to do it?”

“It’s a win-win situation. If I go out with her, George will get to date her sister, and we will get publicity.” The way Lockwood explained the situation with such ease had Lucy thinking he had planned this beforehand.

“Publicity?” George finally spoke up. 

“Yes. You said she’s a team leader, which means she is important, and we also know she’s disliked by every single one of her peers, which means the press will be surprised to see her hanging out with someone. So, if we get photographed together, everyone will want to know what’s so special about the agents of Lockwood and Co. Which means–” 

“More cases.” George finished the sentence for him.

“See? It’s easy.” Lockwood, finally done with the dishes, turned around.

“No, it’s not. I think it’s a stupid idea. You won’t be using someone to get this agency more clients, are you insane?” Lucy stated, indignation lacing her words. 

“Hey, George. You said you were taking her sister out for breakfast tomorrow, how about we make it a double date?” He said with a bright smile, ignoring Lucy’s words. 

“Oh, um.. Okay.”

George was right, Lucy thought. They are so fucked. 

1- I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair.

“George, calm down. Everything will be okay, I promise.” Lockwood said, sending an encouraging look to the boy next to him. George was sweating, he didn’t expect your sister to accept the double date. He didn’t expect you to accept the double date. 

“I know. I even practiced a speech and everything, it will be alright.”

“You practiced a what?”

George wasn’t able to answer his question because right when Lockwood asked him, they were able to see two silhouettes standing outside of the café they were walking to.

“Oh, they’re here,” Lockwood stated plainly before walking up to them, George looking nervous as fuck next to him. 

Sure, George was a sweaty mess, but he knew this would happen. He even expected you to look at him with disgust in your eyes and say something along the lines of “I was dragged here against my will. Fuck you, Karim. You will never date my sister.” 

What he didn’t expect to see was your face painted with confusion. George was about to greet you with the long speech he spent the entire night workshopping, but before he could even mutter a word, you let out an exasperated sigh and looked George in the eye before you gaze slipped to Lockwood and then back to him. 

“What is it, asshole day? Why are you two here?”

Lockwood was about to open his mouth and answer your question, but luckily your sister spoke up just in time.

“I invited my two friends to have breakfast with us!” She said with a bright, almost angelic smile. George felt like he was in heaven just by seeing her. 

“I know about Karim, but why are you friends with Anthony Lockwood?” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me? Only the good things, I hope.” Lockwood said, his charming smile making a way to his face.

“Yeah, like the houses you’ve burned down, and how stupidly reckless you are to the point that you even got shot.” You stated, repulse evident in your eyes as you looked at the man of the hour. 

“It’s adorable how much you know about me.”

“Have you ever been to a psych ward? I can get you an appointment set and ready by tonight.”

“You want to see me tonight?”

George feared you might slit Lockwood’s throat with the way you were looking at him. “We should, um, get inside.” He said, trying (and failing) to break the awkward tension, guiding the four of you into the café. 

George looked at your sister and whispered into her ear “It’s not my place to assume but.. you didn’t tell her we were coming, did you?”

She gave him a shy smile before answering. “I want her to make some friends, and I think someone like Lockwood might help her come out of her shell.”

She looked so innocent that George wanted to break down crying and tell her all about Lockwood’s dumb publicity plan. This was eating him alive. 

You took a seat next to your sister in the booth George had reserved for the four of you. Lockwood smiled when he saw your eyes widen at the sight of him sitting right in front of you. 

“Karim, can you switch places with your friend?” 

“Why? Are you embarrassed I’ll see you blush whenever you look into my eyes?” 

“Have you ever been told that your hairline will recede by the time you’re 30 years old if you keep cutting and styling your hair like that?”  

“Have you ever been told that you’re incredibly beautiful?” 

Your sister had to place her hand over yours before you could reach for the knife placed in front of you by a waiter. Lockwood couldn’t contain his laughter at the look on your face.

“What’s so fucking funny, Lockwood?”

“Nothing. Don’t mind me, please continue with your insults. I relish being the reason behind your thoughts and words.” 

That was enough to shut you up. Your sister, George, and Lockwood shared jokes and stories while you looked down at your plate, the conversation flowing easily between them. Sometimes you’d look up to find Lockwood staring at you, he’d send you a small smile and try to include you in the conversation, but you didn't intend on giving him the satisfaction of getting you to speak, so you’d shut him down with an eye roll. 

The rest of the morning went by smoothly until your sister had the brilliant idea to tell you about her plans for the rest of the day. 

“You’re going to the archives with Karim.. alone? Just the two of you?” 

“Did you not hear her the first time, love?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lockwood.” You snapped at him, hoping your anger was enough to mask the blush rushing into your cheeks. 

It wasn’t. 

“Did I just make you blush?”

“You made me want to throw up.”

“Deny it all you want, but the pet name clearly had an effect on you.. love.”

“Ugh, whatever.” 

The four of you stood up and walked to the café’s exit, Lockwood opening the door for your sister and you. As soon as you got outside, your sister began to apologize for not telling you about her impromptu archives plan with George.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Just.. text me when you get there?” You said softly. Way too softly, Lockwood noticed. He had never seen you this vulnerable, maybe your sister was way more important to you than he expected. 

“I will. Promise.”

You said your goodbyes before turning around, planning on walking to your car, but the universe definitely wasn’t on your side today.

“Wait! I’ll go with you.” Lockwood said as he tried to catch up with you, matching the pace of your long strides. 

“I don’t know if you can tell, Lockwood, but I’m trying to get away from you.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t drive you home after our first date?”

“You’re not a gentleman, and that wasn’t a date.”

Lockwood pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Ouch, not a gentleman? Thank god my mother isn’t here to hear those words.”

You finally stopped walking and turned around to face him. “What do you want?”

“To.. drive you home?”

“No, Lockwood. What do you want? You tried to include me in your stupid conversation earlier, then paid for my breakfast, opened the door for me, and now you want to drive me home. What the fuck do you want?”

Lockwood stayed silent for a while, just staring into your eyes. “I was trying to be nice to you, is that too hard to believe?” 

He took notice of how you looked away from his eyes and tried to keep your hands busy by playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You cleared your throat before saying, “Fine, but if you fuck my car up, I swear to god, Lockwood..” 

2- I hate the way you drive my car.

The car was silent the entire first half of the ride. Sometimes you’d catch Lockwood staring at you from the corner of your eye, but you never looked back, deciding that looking through the car window was a better sight. 

“You don’t talk much unless it is to deliver a well-crafted insult, huh?” Lockwood said, trying to break the silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was just.. tense. 

“Do you want me to talk to you?” You answered, slightly surprised by the fact that Anthony Lockwood of all people, wanted to have a conversation with you. 

“Yeah.”

“And what do you want me to say? It’s not like I know a single thing about you.” 

“You can say whatever you want, I don’t mind. I’ll accept it whether it is you cursing my entire bloodline, or you saying you’re deeply attracted to me.” 

The car came to a stop, a red light illuminating Lockwood’s sharp features. You hated to admit it, but fuck, Anthony Lockwood was attractive. 

“Me? Deeply attracted to you? Holy shit, did you fall and hit your head as a baby?”

“You so are.”

“Am I that transparent? Because you’re right. Oh, Lockwood, I am so attracted to you and your stupid fucking personality. I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.”

“You have such a beautiful way with words, love.”

That was enough to get a small laugh out of you. Lockwood kept surprising you, he didn’t back down after an insult or two, and he actually seemed to enjoy being indulged in them. 

He turned his head to look at you as soon as he heard you laugh, a smile adorning his face. A feeling of pride (and maybe something more) swelled in his chest.

“I can’t believe I just made you laugh for the first time and we’ve been on a date for about three hours now. God, I’m making such a bad first impression.” 

“You still won’t let the idea of this being a date go?” 

“Nope. I enjoy being on a date with you. You’re a nice person to hang out with.”

The corners of your lips curled up into a small smile. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I would rather take you out on a million dates than spend 30 minutes with any other person,” Lockwood confessed, and he meant it.

“Like you could find a person who would willingly spend 30 minutes with you.”

“Oh, see? That, there. Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

The two of you spent the rest of your ride home talking, the tension slowly evaporating, leaving room for the back-and-forth quips that Lockwood and you kept throwing each other. 

Lockwood stopped the car when he heard you say, “Alright, this is my house.” You were about to open the door, but before you could even extend your arm he said a quick, “Wait!” and got out of the car, rounding it to open your door.

“Thanks.”

“Anything and everything for you.”

Just as you were about to answer, a flash and the sound of a camera clicking disrupted the moment you were having. 

“You’re fucking with me”, you muttered under your breath. Lockwood looked surprised too, he had completely forgotten about his plan. 

Take her out for a few days. Get photographed together. Gain more clients.

His heart sank at the reminder of the reality of this situation. He had been so busy having fun with you, that his mind decided to blur out the reason why he was hanging out with Fittes’ most hated agent. 

“Alright. I should, um, go.”

“Do you want me to walk you to your door? Or is the first date too soon to meet your parents?”

“Fuck you, Lockwood,” You said with a smile.

“It doesn’t really seem like you want to.”

He found himself smiling, too. 

3- I hate it when you stare.

“What a fun coincidence to find you here, love.”

You rolled your eyes at Lockwood’s annoying voice. “Yeah, it’s such a fun coincidence that you almost burned this house down and my team had to come help your incompetent agency.” 

“Third time’s a charm.”

“There’s no way in hell you’ve been the cause of more than two fires.” 

“If you let me take you out on another date, maybe I’ll tell you more about them.” You almost stabbed him with your rapier. “Shut up, people might hear.” That brought a bright smile to his face and an incredulous look to his eyes.

“Oh, so you want to keep our relationship a secret? Fine, I’ll take it. I love a forbidden romance.” He whispered, the smell of lavender and lemon engulfing you as he kneeled a bit to whisper in your ear. 

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, I need to go check out the paperwork for the mess you made, can you keep an eye on my team?” You shyly asked, breaking the eye contact he was desperately trying to keep.

“You trust me with your team? I thought my agency was incompetent and I wasn’t good at anything.” 

“It’s just for a few minutes, don’t let this get to your head.” 

“Oh, it’s way over my head, love.” 

You showed him a very special finger, before walking away to talk to Barnes. You tried to remain professional and listen to what the inspector was saying, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of a pair of eyes looking at you. “Sorry for calling you again, you know how it gets whenever Lockwood and Co have a case,” Barnes said, breaking you out of the cage your mind had trapped you in. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s my pleasure to help.” You tried to muster up a small smile for the man, you liked Barnes, he never treated you differently, not even when the way you acted and decided to express yourself wasn’t the most appropriate. 

“And I think it's their pleasure to be helped.”

“I’m sorry?”

You turned around, following Barnes’ line of sight, only for your eyes to meet Lockwood’s. He gave you a small smile but didn’t look away, it was almost as if he longed for your eyes to make contact. You sent him a small frown, wordlessly asking him what was wrong, he just shrugged and waved at the two of you. 

“He is so weird.” You said, turning to face the inspector. “Tell me about it. Well, we are all done here. Have a nice night, and make sure to get home safely.” He answered, eager to get away from the group of agents surrounding him, and walking away. 

Lockwood didn’t miss a beat before making his way to you. “So, I’m thinking we make the second date happen over some tea at Portland Row?”

“Not happening.”

“I’m not one to make a woman feel uncomfortable when she says no, but may I ask why?

“I’d rather spend my time hanging out with ten type threes, than with the group of miscreants you call friends. No offense to Lucy and Holly, though. I quite like them. I was talking about Karim, tell that thing to stay away from my sister.” You answered, finally finding the guts to maintain eye contact while you spoke. 

“You know Lucy and Holly?” He decided to ignore your entire statement, now only focused on the fact that you knew his friends. Anxiety making its way through his body at the thought of Lucy telling you about his plan. 

“Yeah, and they told me some really interesting things about you. I never took you as the type of person to do that type of stuff.”

Lockwood’s heart almost gave out. “What did they say?”

“That you wear pink socks.”

He felt his heart start beating again. Lockwood thought he was about to die in front of you, he made a mental note to thank Lucy for being nice enough to not tell you about his schemes. He found the strength to give you a charming smile. 

“That surprised you? Lord, do you think I’m the type of guy to have a fragile masculinity? My mother raised me better than that.” 

“You mention your mother a lot, are you close with her?

They should give out awards for Feeling your heart stop two times in the span of 3 minutes because Lockwood was sure he would get one delivered to Portland Row’s doorstep by tomorrow morning. 

“I.. um, yeah.” 

Fuck. You made it awkward. You almost dropped down to your knees and begged him for forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude into your personal life, it’s not my place to ask and assume shit about your family. I’m so fucking sorry, Lockwood.” The light in your eyes dimmed, the sight of it made Lockwood want to tell you all about his past. He wanted to go back to ten minutes ago when your eyes were shining and looking into his. He internally swore to never let the light leave them again.

“You’re good, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He reassured you in a small voice, clearly not fine. 

“No, I will worry–” You couldn’t finish your sentence because, once again, the light of a camera flash illuminated Lockwood and you, blinding you both for a split moment. 

“Of course they’re here. Jesus Christ, do they not have lives? A family?” 

“Maybe they just like taking pictures of your beautiful face.”

The light came back to your dim eyes at his statement. “There he is.” You said, noticing how his gaze slipped from your eyes to your lips, before going back to the eye contact you had.

“What can I say? I can’t stop myself from complimenting you when you’re around.”

4-  I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.

The streets of London were quiet while Lockwood took a small walk in the early morning. Lucy told him if he walked around the city for a few hours, he’d be able to break in the new pair of combat boots she got him as a present after he made it through 10 cases without almost dying.  

“It’s 8 am and you’re already up being pathetic. I should say I saw this coming, but I really didn’t. Holy shit.” A familiar voice snapped him out of the daze he was in. He was so busy going through a list in his head of all the things he had to do this week, that he didn’t notice you walking next to him. 

“How long have you been walking by my side?”

“Long enough to see you staring straight ahead and not noticing how incredibly pathetic you look. Your boots are hideous, by the way.” You answered, looking into his eyes and noticing how he smirked at your last remark.

“I don’t think Lucy will be happy about you calling her well-thought gift hideous.”

You let out a genuine laugh as soon as he said that. It was the type of laugh that bubbled up from your chest and had you throwing your head back. It made Lockwood feel as if all the morning clouds had disappeared and the sun shone only on the two of you. Sure, you had laughed at Lucy’s gift, but the sound was enough to let the sun shine its warm rays through Lockwood’s heart. An infinite sunbathe.

“Oh, so you find this funny? Hurting my best friend’s feelings?” He asked in a teasing tone, squinting slightly at you.

“So.. I take it she didn’t tell you?” You asked, a small giggle escaping your lips and going straight through Lockwood’s heart. 

“Tell me what?”

“That our plan was to get you the most ugly, repulsive looking, and incredibly stupid boots that we could find? I wasted my money on that, you’re welcome or whatever.” 

He should’ve been offended. Offended at how Lucy wanted him to humiliate himself by walking through the streets of London with a pair of bright neon green combat boots. Offended that she had asked for your help to choose the ugliest pair she could find. But he was too busy fighting the urge to press his lips against yours and to run his slender fingers through your hair. 

Did you not notice how you always bit your lip after laughing because you thought that would stop you from falling into another fit of laughter? 

“Yeah, yeah, you two are so funny,” He rolled his eyes with a smile. “Thank you, love.” He was about to nudge you with his shoulder, but as soon as he turned to look at you, he noticed you weren’t next to him anymore.

His heart stopped for a second until he finally looked back and caught you staring at two women through a café window, clearly on a date. One of them gave the other a bouquet of different types of flowers and brushed back a strand of her girlfriend’s bright red hair. That brought a smile to your face. 

“Hey, you okay?” He whispered as soon as he stood next to you, noticing the sad smile on your face. 

“Oh, yeah. I was just..” 

You didn’t have to say a word for him to be aware of what you wanted to mention. The look in your eyes, and the small smile on your face.. this was the look you always got whenever you saw your sister with George. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Lockwood reassured you. Not wanting to scare you off after seeing the look on your face and the small voice you used to answer. 

“Do you think I’m holding my sister back?” You asked, turning around to look into his eyes, your hands trembling a bit.

He didn’t miss a beat before taking hold of your hand and lacing your fingers together, giving your gentle hand two squeezes. “I think.. you care a lot about her, and that’s completely fine. But it is not your job to dictate what she can or can not do. It’s okay to let her have her freedom and life, just like you deserve to have yours.” 

You took a deep breath before pulling Lockwood into a hug, your arms surrounding his neck. Lockwood was startled for a second but didn’t have to think about it twice before wrapping his arms around your waist, letting you take the lead in this display of affection. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but.. um”

“You don’t have to say anything, come on,” He said, breaking the hug and taking your hand into his, pulling you forward to continue the walk you were on.

5- I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.

Lockwood looked down at your intertwined hands, thinking of things to say to get the fog of sadness blinding you out of the way. “So you’re a hopeless romantic, huh?

“What the fuck?”

Alright, so maybe this wasn’t his greatest icebreaker ever, but at least it was something. He chose to continue. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you always stare at every couple we walk past. It’s kind of adorable. Fittes’ heinous bitch being a hopeless romantic? Sign me the hell up.”

“You’re sick in the head, Anthony Lockwood.”

“I didn’t think of you as a hopeless romantic, like.. at all. But I assume this means you’re the type of person who wants flowers and love letters delivered to her doorstep. Right?”

“No.”

“Sure, love. I’ll keep this in mind for future references.”

Lockwood made sure to walk you back to Fittes’ building after spending the rest of his morning with you, choosing to take the weird looks his boots got with pride and a bright smile. Whenever someone stopped him in the street he’d answer with a happy “my best friend and this beautiful lady next to me gave them to me as a gift”. 

You spent the rest of your day going back and forth through Fittes’ small yet numerous offices, talking to different people about your previous and next cases. Sometimes you’d stop to take a breather outside a door, but quickly remembered the importance of your role as a team leader, and snapped out of your seemingly neverending exhaustion. 

“Am I dreaming or is that my best friend in the whole world?” You turned your head to the right to find Bobby Vernon smirking at you, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

“Fuck off, Vernon.”

“Woah, no need to get all pissy, love.” You clenched your shaking fists, trying to keep your anger in. You may have a short temper, but you would never let someone like him get the satisfaction of making you angry, or at least of noticing the effect his words have on you. 

The thought of someone other than Lockwood calling you by that pet name made you want to burst into tears. How dare they see you as someone who’s weak? After everything you’ve done and fought for to get the role you have as an agent? 

“I don’t have the time for your bullshit, so just spit it out and let me go home.” You said with an eye roll.

“Your sister wanted me to tell you that you got mail. Well, it’s more like a gift, I guess. I assume it’s from your parents because I can’t think of a single human being who genuinely likes you.” 

You knew better than to take his words to heart, but the venom he said them with stung. You knew you were unlikeable, probably even unloveable at this point, but he didn’t have any right to say those words to your face. It made you feel disgusting, you had to fight back the urge to throw up.

“Yeah, alright. Have a good day, Vernon.” You replied as you walked past him and out into the street, calling for a cab to take you home.

The ride back home was silent, and it surprisingly made you miss Lockwood. It made you miss his stupid jokes, his ugly haircut, and his reckless way of driving your car. You were sure the poor guy didn’t know what a stop sign meant. 

As soon as the cab driver got you home, you made sure to pay him and wish him a safe drive, after all, the curfew was 15 minutes away from starting. A sigh escaped your lips after opening your door and heading into your room. The day had left you completely worn out, and Bobby’s words didn’t help at all with the shit day you were having.

You quickly got changed and were about to head to bed when you noticed a package sitting in the corner of your room. A frown made its way to your face when your eyes caught the unfamiliar handwriting with your name on the box, curiosity taking the best of you as you opened the package with a delicate touch.

A gasp left your lips when you opened it and found the same bouquet of colorful flowers you saw the woman give to her partner at the café. A white envelope sat next to them.

With a small smile and shaking hands, you opened it and were greeted with Lockwood’s handwriting.

Hey, my love. 

I’ll be really honest and say that my mind is completely blank as I write this, but I just wanted to let you know that right after I dropped you off, I went to Arif’s with George and heard a love song playing — I couldn’t help but think of your hopeless romantic self as soon as I heard these lyrics: You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. 

Jesus, I know you’re having a field day reading this. Me? Embarrassing myself and sending you a bouquet and a love letter? You’re right, I must be extremely sick in the head.

Anyway, I hope you have a good day. You deserve it.

With lots of love,

Lockwood. 

(PS: You don’t have to say it back! But I thought it felt right to say it since we’re kind of besties now.) 

The tears you spent the entire day holding back decided to come out right after you finished reading the letter. Sobs escaped your lips as you sat down in your bed, the flowers and letter still in your hand. A strange feeling bubbled up inside you, you didn’t quite know what it meant, but decided to guess it was that disgusting sickening feeling Bobby left you with. 

When you laid in bed and tried to go to sleep, you took notice of how different the feeling you were having right now was from the one you got with Bobby Vernon. Sure, this one made you want to throw up, too. But it also made you want to stare into Lockwood’s eyes again and to feel his arms wrapped around your waist for a few more seconds. You drifted to sleep with a craving of feeling Lockwood’s hand intertwined with yours for the rest of your life.  

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Could you do a platonic crew with a reader who has a devilfruit that gives them similar abilities to deadpool (aka any injury regenerates)- but unlike deadpool they can die if they gain enough damage, but the reader doesn’t realise/accept this and constantly risks their life for the crew cause they think they’ll be okay?

Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.2k words

Warning for descriptions of serious injuries

“Dammit, let me out!”

You yank on the infirmary door again despite knowing what a waste of time it was. With an aggravated huff, you turn around and shamble back to the bed. Your body was in agony from the wounds you took on today. Even though your devil fruit was working hard to fix it, this would take time to fully heal and stop hurting. It’s probably best to lay down for a bit, you just wish you could do so in your own bed.

They’re all over reacting, and they know it. You’re borderline immortal, and sure, you cut it a little close this time, but you were fine now! The battle was over, it’s not like you’re in any danger. 

You’re aware that your devil fruit can be unsettling at times, it’s unnatural to see someone recover from what would be a mortal wound for anyone else. Even Chopper couldn’t help but look disturbed when they found you after you threw yourself over a bomb. The explosion mostly damaged your legs, even taking one off entirely. 

The worst part though was the piece of shrapnel that shot up and cut open your abdomen. If it weren’t for you manually holding the wound shut, your organs would’ve all spilled out onto the ground.

Chopper had given you some painkillers to hold you over until you finished healing, but they can only do so much against something this severe. You roll onto your side to grab the water from the bedside table, but an intense pain shoots through you, making you drop it on the ground.

The glass shatters on impact, and you drop your head back onto your pillow with a groan. As you attempt to slip out of the bed again to pick up the broken glass, the door is thrown open and Chopper rushes in, “I heard something break! What hap- Get back in the bed!”

He ran over to you and shooed you back into lying down, “You’re too hurt to be moving around like this!” 

“I’m already mostly healed, it’s not like I’m going to die,” you grumbled, annoyed that you even have to state this. Everyone on board is well aware of how your powers work.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Chopper stopped picking up glass and snapped his head towards you. Tears were pouring down his face, but he forced himself to speak through them, “Y-You won’t know what is going to be enough to kill you until it’s too late!”

Now you just felt bad. You care about your crew, and making them cry is not something you ever want to do. Even if you have done so multiple times. Awkwardly, you reach out to put your hand on his shoulder, “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Chopper aggressively rubs at his eyes and sniffles loudly, “You n-need to stop d-doing this! I hate it, everyone hates it! We’re all-”

“Chopper.”

Both of you snap your attention to the door, where Luffy is standing. His hat is obscuring his eyes, but you can feel them on you regardless. What’s worse, he’s openly frowning. That’s never a good sign, especially not after you’ve landed yourself back in the infirmary.

The ship’s doctor walked out without another word, closing the door behind him. Now it’s just you and Luffy. He’s eerily silent as he approaches your bed and takes a seat at the foot of it. You can already guess where this is going. He’s going to tell you to stop acting like you’re the only one who can protect everyone else and to let others help. 

You’ve had this conversation with him many times. It’s not like you were intentionally trying to go against his words, you wanted to heed his orders and be a good crewmate, really! It’s just that whenever you are in the heat of the moment, you instinctively put yourself in harm’s way. You could take damage better than anyone, what else were you supposed to do?

“You’re done.”

Your blood ran cold in your veins, “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re done, we’re not letting you do this again,” Luffy stated plainly, like it was the most obvious conclusion to come to. 

You attempt to sit up, but the pain that shoots through you brings that to a halt. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you kicking me out?” You ground out.

“I never said that. You’re just done fighting, that’s it,” Luffy finally lifted his head enough for you to make eye contact with him, and you wish he hadn’t. The look in his eyes is so intense that your argument died on your tongue. “Is that understood?”

“Wha… What else am I-”

Luffy’s hand clamped over your mouth, you see anger flicker across his face as he grinds his teeth together, “Don’t argue with me! I’m sick of you never listening! I’m your captain, if I say you’re done, then you’re done!” His voice raises in volume with every word until he’s practically screaming at you.

Tears drip onto your face as he looms above you, hiccupping as his own sorrow overcomes him. “Why do you keep doing this? Why do you act like you’re going to survive no matter what? You almost died!” He abruptly lets go of your mouth and collapses on top of your body, clutching onto you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. His hat tumbles off his head and onto the bed beside you.

His weight feels uncomfortable on your recovering injuries, but you don’t say anything. Lightly, you bring a hand up to his head to gently run your fingers through his hair. This action only makes him hold you closer as his cries get louder.

You’re torn. As much as you want to be upset about his previous words to you, it’s impossible to act on those emotions when he’s sobbing on top of you. Your near death clearly bothered him more than you had realized. Were you really in the wrong for acting the way you did? If what you were doing was so great, why was it hurting all your friends so badly?

“I’m sorry,” you croak out as your own eyes start to tear up.

Luffy doesn’t answer. You’re not sure he even heard you over his crying. You can faintly hear hushed words being spoken outside the infirmary door, but there’s nothing you can do right now to hear it better. Your crewmates are no doubt discussing what to do with you now that Luffy was seemingly dead set on not letting you onto a battlefield again.

Hopefully, this was all said because he lost control of his emotions, and when he calms down he’ll change his mind. That had to be the case. I mean really, it’s not like you could just sit back and do nothing while everyone else risked life and limb. You’ll be more careful from now on, for real this time. You’ll take their feelings into consideration before acting so recklessly. It won’t happen again.

Although… it’s unclear if that’s because you’re going to change your ways, or if they are going to make you whether you want to or not.

[violentdelights-violentendss]

Bath Time

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Tangerine

Synopsis: You successfully manage to drag Tangerine into a bath after a long and strenuous job.

Requested by: I lost the username…I’m so sorry!!!!

Warning: Nothing.

(So sorry this is maybe too short and very bad, but I just wanted to post something to show you guys I’m alive and currently working on all your requests!!! Please send many many more! I love writing all of them!)

You were cooking in the kitchen, making a plate of carbonara for yourself. Tangerine’s necklace was heavy in between your breasts. He always left it with you when he went on jobs.

The bacon sizzled in the pan, making you come back from your memories. You took one out of the pan, dropping it in your mouth. The juicy flavor covered your tongue, even if scorching.

As you hummed along to the song playing on your phone, the door squeaked open. Instantly, the music was too loud and the sizzling of the bacon hurt your ears. Fear slithered down your spine, freezing you.

Dry and heavy steps started trudging towards you. Silently, your hand shaking, you grabbed the knife on the counter, stepping quietly towards the wall of the kitchen. You gripped the knife just like Tangerine had taught you to do, ready to stab the intruder that had come in your home.

The steps were getting closer to the kitchen. Your hands started trembling even more, and you clasped the knife tightly to not drop it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shape flickering closer. Without waiting, you twirled away from the wall, ready to attack the man.

“Darling?” Called a familiar voice.

Slowly, you opened your scrunched up eyes. In front of you, Tangerine stood in all his bloodied and exhausted glory. His clothes were covered in blood, and the bags underneath his eyes were bigger than when he had left. Your trembling knife was pressed against his throat. The knife tumbled from your hand, falling at your feet.

“Tangerine?” You stuttered, fear still clawing your jaw shut. The man didn’t reply, but wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, hiding his tired face in your neck. You didn’t hesitate to embrace him. You didn’t care that the blood, his or someone’s else, was soaking into your white shirt.

He stayed silent for a second before you heard his tire voice croak out, “Missed you, love.”

“I missed you too,” you whisper back, holding him tightly against your chest. You inhaled his perfume, letting your hands tangle in his curls. “Come on, we have to get you in the bath.” You gently grabbed his hand, supporting his fatigued body and carrying him towards the bathroom. Tangerine followed limply, his feet dragging on the floor.

You reached the bathroom, heaving and panting, delicately sitting Tangerine down on the toilet seat. His eyes were glazed and his head hung low. You spun towards the bathtub, flicking the tap open and turning it to choose hot water, which soon started pouring into the bath. Grabbing one of the bath bombs you kept tidily on the side, you dropped it in the water, watching as it dissolved, turning the water a sunset pink, the room now smelling like roses.

As the water gurgled, filling the bathtub, you knelt down in front of Tangerine. “Darling, I’m going to start undressing you.” You whispered calmly, not wanting to trigger his fight or flight responses: it had happened once when he was in this state and it had not been pretty. Tangerine didn’t seem to see you, but your words must have gotten through to him, his head nodding slightly.

You started unbuttoning his vest, slowly peeling it off his sweat-covered body, gently folding it. Then came the button-up shirt that was splotched with blood — a gruesome painting. You reached his pants, unbuckling his belt. You tugged them down with the boxers, helping him to stand so he could safely get into the bathtub.

Tangerine let himself be moved, as if he were a puppet, once loved and now forgotten. He sunk down into the water, leaning heavily against the side of the tub, eyes pointed to the ceiling, lost in memories of the mission you were sure were going to haunt his already tormented dreams.

You quietly started washing the encrusted blood off his face, body and hair, humming a quiet lullaby to soothe his tired mind. After a while that Tangerine had been soaking, listening to your quiet voice and feeling your warm touch on his skin, he seemed to snap out of his daze, slowly blinking awake. “Hey, Tan.” You welcomed him back, watching as he seemed to come back alive, warmth flushing his cheeks.

Tangerine looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time, his eyes starting to glimmer with tears when his heart realized he was safe. Immediately, you were pulled into his arms, and into the water, simply embracing him as tightly as he needed. “God, I thought that…for a minute, during the mission, I wouldn’t make it back.” He croaked in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips, his tears falling onto your lips, running down to nestle on his necklace.

You shivered at just the thought, pressing him closer. “You’re here now. You’re here. Safe.” You said, gently rocking Tangerine in your arms, hoping to reassure him.

You stayed, embraced, in the cooling water for hours. When you later tried to move, Tangerine simply held you closer, pressing soft kisses against your neck. You sighed, getting comfortable, knowing it was going to be a long night. But you were ready to be there as long as Tangerine needed you, and Tangerine loved you till the end of the world and back: you two were going to be together for all eternity.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 5) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.0k

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

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Jake tries to process the news of your pregnancy while you try to get him to finally talk to you.

Series Master List

Master List

After dinner wrapped up and your family finally left you in peace and solitude, you immediately reached for your phone. Pulling up Jake’s name in your texts, you stared bitterly at the texts that you sent him that he never responded to before typing out another message. 

Hey if my brother or Mav said anything weird to you, just ignore them. Do you still want to talk? I do, if you do

Sending the simple message, you set down your phone and refused to look at it. Or to debate how stupid your last text was. Of course, the one time that Jake decided to actually reach out to you just had to be when Mav and Bradley were over at your apartment to ruin everything.

Why hadn’t he just texted you before showing up? Why the hell did he just spontaneously decide to waltz back into your life? He couldn’t respond to any of the text messages that you sent him but he could take the time out of his life and drive over to your apartment?

Sighing, you pressed a hand to your face in annoyance before moving to clean up your apartment. You left your phone on the table, face down, as you walked around, cleaning up, and getting ready for bed. You took a shower and changed into your pajamas, but not without staring at your abdomen in the mirror for a few seconds. You swore that you could see a light curve.

Letting out a sigh, you turned and rubbed your hand up and down your small bump, and reminded yourself about what was important in this situation. Your pride wasn’t, so you would keep reaching out to Jake until the pieces went back together. Or completely shattered into a thousand pieces. Anything was possible at this point.

You grabbed your phone and walked into your bedroom. Shutting off the light, you climbed into bed and finally pulled your phone up to look at it.

And . . .

Nothing.

Jake hadn’t responded to you. 

Unable to hide your disappointment, even though you knew that he could still respond, you set your phone down. You stared at your ceiling for a moment before you rolled over and went to sleep. 

~~~~~

“You alright, Hangman?” Bob asked Jake, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah,” Jake grunted out, turning to Bob. Straightening out his uniform again, Jake walked past Bob like nothing was wrong. “Why do you ask?” 

“Why are you avoiding the conversation?” Bob muttered, mostly to himself, raising an eyebrow as Jake headed out of the office quickly.

Jake walked confidently through the halls of NAS Miramar, but his brain was not in his body. No, his mind was still sitting in your bathroom, where that bomb was dropped on the top of his head without much of a warning. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and had potentially worn a line in his floor with all his pacing. And he still felt like he was going to pass out a bit.

But Jake knew that he had to do something about it. He couldn’t just ignore you over this. Not anymore than he had already anyways.

“Hangman,” Rooster called, causing Jake’s internal monologue to shatter. Clearly a bit on edge, Jake turned to Rooster, who walked over to him with a stack of folders tucked neatly under his arm. “I need to talk to you.” 

“About?” Jake asked, trying to not sound too defensive. 

“The lesson plans,” Rooster stated, holding out the folders. 

“What’s wrong with them?” Jake asked, taking one from Rooster’s hand. 

“They were asking if we would also cover a couple more complicated maneuvers,” Rooster explained, handing Jake a list. 

The two aviators walked through the halls, discussing the merits of changing their lesson plan. Their conversation wasn’t confrontational and purely professional in all respects. Jake was almost lulled into a false sense of security around Rooster as they discussed carrier landing simulations.

Almost.

“Alright, that works,” Rooster responded, scribbling some chicken scratch in the margin of the page. Slapping the folder shut with his hand, Rooster turned to Hangman with a stoic expression. “But what exactly is going on between you and my sister?” 

Jake turned to Rooster with an annoyed expression, but Rooster continued to stare him down. Handing over the lesson plans that Rooster provided him with earlier, Jake didn’t dignify Rooster with any kind of emotional response. 

“Is that really a professional question to ask in a work setting, Rooster?” Jake drawled condescendingly. When Rooster didn’t answer his question, Jake added, “So, I guess my answer last night wasn’t good enough for you?” 

“It wasn’t,” Rooster replied calmly, though his glare was anything but friendly. “It’s still not adding up to me, Hangman.” 

“Well, maybe use a calculator this time if you’re not so good at math,” Jake returned with that good old Texan accent that he knew pissed Rooster off. “I’ll see you ‘round, Rooster.” 

Giving Rooster a good old pat on the arm, Jake turned and headed off down the hall, well aware that Rooster was glaring holes into the back of his head. Jake only got a grand total of five steps away from Rooster before he spoke again.

“If you’re messing around with my sister, Seresin . . .” Rooster warned him.

Jake paused and turned around to see Rooster glaring at him. He didn’t finish his sentence, but Jake was sure that Rooster would finish him off if he found out about the actual situation going on between Jake and you. And Jake couldn’t really handle another grain of stress right now. He had too much more important shit weighing on his mind without worrying about Rooster’s reaction to it.

“She’s been through enough shit in her life already. I don’t need you fucking around with her head,” Rooster stated firmly. “And that’s the last thing that she deserves.”

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Bradley turned and continued walking down the hall, heading for the classrooms. Jake watched Rooster walk off with narrowed eyes and a defensive look, but when the sound of Rooster’s footsteps faded, so did Jake’s confidence. Letting his shoulders drop, Jake looked at the floor for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly.

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and pulled up your name. Staring down at the text that you sent him last night, Jake raised his thumb to respond—with anything at this point, really—but shook his head and put his phone away.

“Fuck,” Jake muttered to himself before turning and continuing on his way.

~~~~~

“Okay,” you breathed out, staring at the familiar building in front of you. “You’re not crazy. He started the crazy when he showed up at your place. You’re just returning the favor.” You nodded to yourself as you let out a breath. “Because a completely sane ex-whatever totally hangs out in the parking lot of his apartment building to show up without any warning, talking to themselves. Right?”

It had been a spur of the moment decision.

You were driving home from work and the right turn that you would have to take to get to Jake’s place had a green arrow, whereas the left turn that you needed to take to get home was red. And you make a split-second decision because you were zoned out and just following traffic.

Well, no, but that wasn’t the only time that you lied to yourself this week.

“You’re just going to knock. That’s all you’re going to do,” you reasoned with yourself, grabbing your purse. “He might not even be home. You’re just trying. That’s all you’re doing.”

Opening your purse, you rifled through to see if the little box were still in there, even though you checked three times before. Summoning your courage, you grabbed your purse and climbed out of your car. You headed inside the building and made your way up to Jake’s apartment, knowing the route. And then you were standing outside of his front door.

Raising your fist, you knocked on the door once, twice, and then you stepped back. Chipping at your nails nervously, you looked up when you heard the deadbolt turn. 

Jake opened the door to his apartment and the two of you locked eyes. You folded your arms so that you couldn’t nervously fiddle with your fingers anymore, and offered Jake a small, but very awkward smile. 

“Hey,” you mumbled out, causing Jake to blink back into reality. 

“Hey,” he returned before opening the door to his apartment. “You came to talk?”

“Yeah, if you’re free,” you replied quietly. 

Jake nodded and invited you into his apartment. You stepped into the familiar space and walked into his living room. Jake shut the door behind you before slowly moving to join you. He took a seat on his couch, but you stayed standing, knowing that you’d nervously tap your feet if you sat down. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” you started off with, causing Jake to pick his head up. “With my brother and everything.”

“I should have asked you to come over first,” Jake conceded, causing you to nod slowly. “And besides, I can deal with your brother.”

“Right.” You shifted your weight on your feet nervously before letting out a breath and trying to get down to business before you lost your edge. “Jake, I have to tell you something serious. It’s why I kept texting and trying to call you.”

“Okay,” was all that Jake replied with, looking oddly calm. “What is it?”

 “Um, well,” you trailed off, setting your purse down. Pulling out the positive test from the bottom of your purse, you turned back to Jake. “Well, you know how we were safe most of the time, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you remember the few times that we weren’t so safe?” you continued, pulling the test out of the box. 

With shaking hands, you held out the test to Jake, who took it with another oddly calm expression. If anything, he almost looked more relaxed than he did when you arrived as he stared down at the test. 

 “Jake, I’m pregnant.”

You held your breath, waiting for Jake’s reaction. For him to freak out. After all, most guys wouldn’t exactly react happily to finding out that the girl that they had been hooking up with had fallen pregnant. You weren’t expecting a positive reaction, but you were expecting a reaction. Just any reaction. 

But Jake didn’t seem to react. At all. His eyes didn’t widen in shock. He didn’t change his breathing pattern. He stayed in the exact same position on the couch. And he just stared at the pregnancy test. Frowning and frankly more than a little confused about his lack of reaction, you tried to figure out how to respond to Jake’s non-response. 

“And the baby’s yours, if I wasn’t clear,” you added awkwardly. 

“How far along are you?” Jake asked after a few moments, finally picking his head up. 

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “My first appointment isn’t until later this week.” Licking your lips nervously, you replied, “But I think I’m already into my second trimester. Or at least close to it.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I’m starting to show.”

Smoothing down your loose shirt, you turned to the side to show Jake the start of your bump. He stared at it for a long moment, even after you turned back to face him. Still confused by his reaction, you folded your arms in front of your chest and tilted your head to the side a bit. 

“You’re taking this news surprisingly well,” you commented offhandedly, causing Jake to look up to meet your gaze. 

“I sort of had a . . .” Jake trailed off, trying to find the right word. 

“Someone told you already?” you asked, suddenly alert. 

“No, I just . . .” Jake stood up and set the pregnancy test on the table. “Yesterday, you were acting weird. Rooster mentioned that you were throwing up and you didn’t touch your wine at all. And . . .” Jake brushed his hands down his pants nervously. “I saw your prenatal vitamins in the bathroom.”

“You saw my—but I took the wrapper off of it. You just know what prenatal vitamins look like?”

“Well, no,” Jake replied, causing you to frown. “I saw the wrapper in the trash—“

“—You went through my trash!?”

“—because I knocked it over and was cleaning it up,” Jake finished, a bit louder than when he started. “And I know that sounds like bullshit, but it’s the truth.”

You looked away from Jake for a moment, still a little on edge, before turning back to him. Unfolding your arms and letting out a breath, you looked up at him with a serious expression. You held your lips together and summoned all of the courage that remained in your body. 

“Do you want to be involved then?” you asked after a few moments of silence. 

“That’s my baby, isn’t it?” Jake returned without missing a beat. 

“Yes.”

“Then that’s my answer.” You stared up at Jake with a mix of relief and disbelief while he shifted his weight on his feet. Fidgeting a bit nervously, Jake picked his head up again. “Can I come?” Jake asked quietly, pulling you out of your internal questions. “To your appointment, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “Of course. I’ll send you the details.” After a few more beats of silence, you finally summoned the courage to ask, “You really want to be involved? Because if you don’t, that’s fine, but I’d prefer to know now, Jake.” 

“I’ll be honest,” Jake stated, glancing down at the ground, “I’m scared shitless.” Jake picked his head up to lock eyes with you again. “Yesterday, after I left, I ran here and freaked out for a couple hours. Barely slept. Hell, I’m still absolutely scared shitless. I don’t know anything about kids. And I always thought that I’d make a shitty dad.” 

You nodded slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stared at the floor. Hell, you were scared shitless as well. You hadn’t thought through everything yet, obviously, and the fact that you finally talked to Jake eliminated a lot of the planning that you had done. 

“But I want to try,” Jake replied quietly, causing you to lock eyes again. “I really want to try.” 

“I want that too, Jake,” you returned softly. You shifted a bit on your feet before adding, “You know, I really thought that this was going to be a more difficult conversation.”

“Why?” 

“Well, we’re not exactly the best communicators,” you pointed out, causing Jake to wince. “Especially with each other.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about ignoring you like that. It was petty.”

“I mean, I ignored you first,” you replied with a shrug, fiddling with your fingers. “We both screwed up.”

“Who else knows?” Jake asked, causing you to drop your hands to your sides. “About the baby and everything.”

“Penny knows. She was there when I took the tests. And Emma knows. I sort of broke down and told her.”

“Any chance they told Mav or Rooster?”

“I don’t think they would have let you walk out of my apartment without a mention of it if they knew about our situation,” you replied quietly. “But I can’t hide forever.”

“No, you can’t,” Jake agreed. 

“I was planning on telling Mav after my appointment. I thought that he would react better to the news than Bradley would. And then depending on how he reacts, I think I’ll tell Bradley this weekend.”

“That quickly?” Jake asked, looking surprised. 

 “Jake, I’m already showing,” you reminded him, folding your arms over your chest. “And I would rather tell them than someone else telling them. Or them just figuring it out. I mean, you did. What’s stopping them from figuring it out?”

 “Alright,” Jake replied, shoving a hand into his pocket. “Well, tell me when you’re ready and I’ll be there with you for it.”

“I appreciate that,” you returned, nodding along. After a few beats of silence, you asked, “Did you want to tell your family?”

“I’ll tell Javy once your brother knows,” Jake replied, but that didn’t fully answer your question. 

 “And your parents?”

“They’ll find out when they find out,” Jake responded noncommittally. 

“Ok,” you agreed, not wanting to push it. “Well, my appointment is at 3 on Wednesday. Do you think that you can get the time off?”

“I'll figure it out. I’ll be there,” Jake promised you, causing you to nod. 

“Good,” you returned softly. “I want you there.”

You and Jake stared at each other for a moment before your phone started to buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you cursed when you saw that it was your brother. Turning back to Jake, you shot him an apologetic look as you stepped towards the door. 

“I’ll see you Wednesday then?” you asked, causing Jake to nod. 

“Text me the address.”

“I will,” you assured him before answering the phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

Jake watched you go, staring at the closed door for a moment. Letting out a breath, he walked over to his couch and sat down. Picking up the pregnancy test, Jake stared down at it as he let his thoughts swirl around in his head all over again as those two blue lines sat there mocking him and hitting him over the head.

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