#and how it is is absolutely amusing how dumb they could be. they meaning him

[baycitystygian]

Mark and Howard are so iconic!!!

in a better timeline they would be two of my besties & we’d all get high at paulie’s house together

[screampied]

squirting for the first time with jjk men?? 😫

❛ SLIPPERY WHEN WET! ❜

sukuna, toji, getō, gojo, namami, choso. jjk men and their reaction to making you squirt for the first time

total wc. 3.6k

warnings. fem!reader, degradation, squirting, overstim, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, p*ssydrunk men, dumbification, pussyspanking, toy usage, edging. MDNI

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

“hm? ain’t no guy ever make ya squirt before?” he grunts. and you’re just absentmindedly being stuffed, both of your wrists gripped back with toji holding onto them, his strokes were mean and demanding. your head continued to thump and bounce against the soft silk pillow that rested underneath your head. all you could make out was a sweet pathetic ‘nuh-uh’ and toji raises his thin eyebrows in amusement. “no baby…? not even once?”

“no- don’t think i can, i tried myself but…”

he snickers. “silly girl. trust me, you can squirt,” you bit your lip, eyes nearly rolling back from his jagged thrusts, its so good you nearly feel drool start to run down the corners of your mouth, how embarrassing it was—yet you remained stupid from his dick, feeling the warmth of your pussy clench tight against him. “want me to test it out?”

“yeah,” you whine, your voice was a mere soft mewl, an almost mumble practically, and toji gifts your ass with a spank, eliciting a moan from your mouth. he grows cocky the minute a huh? leaves his mouth. so you correct yourself with a “y-yes.”

“….‘yeah’ what girl,” he groans, skimming his dark green eyes down to see how your body jerks underneath him. his weight lightly hovers against you, and he’s still got a firm grip with your wrists, having you pitifully tongue-tied. “taught you how to speak to me. so let’s try that again.”

arrogant bastard, what your thoughts originally said—making you purposely repeat yourself, but his cock always always made up for it.

“please,” you choke out, moaning from the way he deepens his thrusts just a tad bit, your mouth starts to water from the way your pussy twitches in content. “make me squirt toji. please. i wanna be messy for you.”

“aw that’s my girl,” he purrs, releasing his grip from your wrists, yet it remains still against your bare back, his thrusts snap against you to where a cute gasp leaves your lips. “but oh, you’ve been messy though, but there’s nothing wrong with that, princess,” he teases, such mockery escaping from his tone. “relax for me, yeah? you’ll feel it when it comes.”

“okay,” you moaned, your left cheek pressed up against the white sheets of the mattress. it was cute, your face being up against the bed as you’re being absolutely stuffed and pounded. you felt yourself tightening from the inside—a coil desperately awaiting to be snapped, a feeling you never knew you could feel, and you probably looked so dumb. “okay okay o-okay.”

you cutely kept sputtering, repeating and bracing yourself. toji brings a rough hand towards the back of your neck as he’s ramming his fat length from behind you, such thrusts has your body spasming and crying out for more, it feels like a orgasm being snatched away from you.

“give it to me, girl.” he grunts, giving your ass another mean spank. the immense build up. your legs judder continuously to where your mind goes blank like an empty canvas, empty..

“a-ah t-toji—!” you squeaked, and he’s so ruthless whenever it came to you, each time you try to sit up to turn around he shoved your head lightly back down, it’s so cute. “fuck, fuck. f-fuck, ‘s about to-” and a gasp interrupts your words the minute you squirt all down his shaft to his base, your sweet juices sheath and sheath all the way down and it’s so warm and hot.

the minute you end up squirting, your legs felt so weak, it just quavered and shook. “oh my g-god,” you sobbed, and he slows his sloppy thrusts against your cunt down—leaning up close to you, direct and personal. “there we go mama, my messy fuckin’ squirter,” he whispers, he’s pressed against your ass and wraps a few fingers around your neck. planting a kiss underneath your chin he murmurs. “you made such a mess. how’s it feel?”

“good. but feels w-wet toji.”

“eheh, well yeah girl, that’s kinda the point.” he snickers, playfully sinking his teeth into your neck, giving it a teasing nibble.

SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN

“hm? make you squirt huh? so greedy.. my fingering isn’t enough for you?” sukuna teases and you’re laid flat on your back with your legs lazily lifted up, more like he’s holding them up for you.

you moaned, feeling him slide a single digit in and out. he sneaks a wet kiss against your thigh before leaning in to press his lips against your pussy, tasting how sweet you were. “...kuna ‘m not greedy, just wanna see what it feels like, please..”

“you are greedy,” he grunts, giving your cunt a swift spank to make your legs twitch, “but sure thing.” he mutters, warm minty breath going against your clit. your head goes back and your mouth slightly opens and parts from the way he’s fingering you and eating you out. his lips latch and lock against your folds to make your eyes roll back. he was so filthy with his tongue let alone his fingers.

you sucked your teeth—feeling his two fingers push deep in and out, going past against that spot each time, instead of your eyes rolling you were practically crossed eyed.

“f-fuck, fuck, ‘s good ‘kuna...”

“i know. you keep saying that, dumb girl. quit talkin’ and start squirting.” and you lose count of how many mean slaps he gives your pussy. he’s so mean, yet found every few seconds to praise you and let you know how good you’re doing.

“h-hurry up and make me then.”

“little girl, watch it.” he grunts, gifting you a glare, his eyes pierce against yours before he sits up, spitting right on your pussy with a rough spat, he runs a single middle finger down your slit to snatch the tiny brat left in you. you meet eye contact and your slick was very much glistening his chin, being soaked with your sweetness.

your legs were so close, just the epitome of the word jittery with how it just shook, never once staying still. the stimulation he created with his tongue let alone his fingers, it had your mind boggled. “think ‘m getting close, f-fuck.”

“uh huh. fuckin’ bet you are.” he whistles in response—grabbing ahold of his dick and you let off a cute gasp at the way he swipes his throbbing leaky pre-swollen tip against your wetness. “look at that, princess.

so eager to jus’ swallow me up.” and he slowly makes his way inside your cunt, immediately your walls hug him as a response and you’re just at the very limit. “come on, let go for me. you dont gotta be shy around me, neither does this wet pussy.”

the minute you squirt…it’s embarrassing, sukuna only smacks about five deep thrusts against your cunt and you’re already making a mess all over his base. “s-so good.” you’d cry out, and he’s staring at you.

a grunt departs his lips before he leans in to kiss you, pulling out only to ghost his fingers against your clit.

“you’re such a nasty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, you moan—tasting your own slick that ran down his chin, the sharp edges of his teeth playfully nibbling down on your lip. his body heat against yours made you feel tingly and even more in such heat. “tell me you’re my nasty girl, baby.”

“i-i’m a nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you moaned.

he gives you a dead stare—and you whine once he slips two fingers inside your throbbing pussy.

“i’m your nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you rephrased, and a cocky grin forms on his lips.

“what a good obident girl. think i like you.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“you sure sweetheart?” he asks in a soft mumble, he has a wand in hand. the ringing of the toy rings against your ears as your legs were sprawled apart for him. “you want me to make you…squirt?”

“yes p-please, kento.” you nod, the cuteness bestowed upon your lips was beyond words to describe. the way your lip quivered, it was barely up a few notches yet you throbbed and throbbed. despite it only being a good ten minutes. you’re just a whimpering mess.

eager to touch yourself, you reach down to play with your pussy before he grabs it, kissing the back of your hand.

he chuckles. “oh baby…baby, gotta keep those hands to yourself if you want me to make you messy. okay? no touching.”

“s-sorry kento.”

“aw, don’t be sorry. squirt, princess.” he teases, a hum underneath his tone he was so gentle with you, with his touch yet your legs felt like they were pretty much about to give out.

the stimulation made your teeth nearly chatter, toes clench and your back nearly arching. he finds you to be so pretty like this. flat on your chest, drool running down your mouth against the pillow with your mind empty.

you hold in a moan, teeth lightly piercing down on your lip to help silence yourself from the immense pleasure, the overstim from just releasing had your chin just hovering over your arm.

“o-one more level kento.”

“more? it’s gonna be on four, dunno if my cute whiney princess can handle that.”

“p-please, need it. i wanna-”

you moan at the swift sound of nanami swiping a thumb across the vibrating toy feeling the impulses throb against your sweet cunt, indeed it now being a level higher from three and it’s so good you can just taste the urge to let yourself go.

the sudden feeling of his sneaking fingers to brush and slither against your puffy folds was just enough to send you to burst—your mouth slightly went agape, and you’re just stupid. “n-nanami.”

“so dumbstruck you said nanami instead of kento, such a sweet thing,” and you end up squirting the minute he rubs the toy in a circular motion—maneuvering it against you along with fingers to ghost and run alongside your achy pussy. “easy, ‘s okay. lie down on your chest. jus’ let go for me baby, yeah.”

“such a gorgeous girl,” he whispers in awe, leaning down to kiss your clit which turns to countless smooches, mwah after mwah and your legs were practically mush by now. “let me clean you all up with my tongue, ‘m your husband, least i could do. so relax for me, my love.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“oh? i’ve made you squirt before, no?” he cackles, leaning back against the headrest of the couch.

“no,” you whined, still getting over your post-orgasm, his cock stood firm inside of you, such inches of his kept you warm with your hands pressed against his chest. geto stares at you with intrigued darkened eyes. having you sat on his lap, legs still barely recovered a few minutes ago. “don’t think you ever did...”

geto grips your waist, sliding a tongue across his lips before muttering in a sly coy tone. “mhm hmm,” and he’s so sassy, even having the audacity to roll his eyes at you. black specks of hair trickle down and paint the lower half of his body. geto’s happy trail was always appetizing to look at.

“this your little way of asking me to make you soak yourself on me, angel? how cute.” he grins.

“…sugu—” and you gasp at the way he grunts the minute the pads of his thumbs lightly press and pierce into your skin. he starts making you bounce against him and your mouth opens, such lewd whines exit your lips before you throw your arms around his neck.

“wanna squirt, do it yourself. fuck me baby. show me how bad you want it,” and he groans how he’s so stuffed. so full of cum still, hefty base pounding and thwacking back against your pussy. “you’re a big girl. do it y-yourself, mhm…shit.”

he was so teasingly sly, making you rut yourself against him, in the end you always had to do pretty much everything yourself whenever it came to geto.

“…okay,” you choked out, and he playfully leans back — tiny beads of sweat running down the side of his forehead as well as the very middle part of his chiseled v-line.”

it felt so good, you’re dumbly grating your teeth together, still so sensitive, the only cacophony that left your lips was cute whimpers of, “s-sugu,” “…want you s’bad,” and even, “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles at how dumb you grew out to be simply from being stuffed full of thick inches of his dick. “gotta be mean to deal with a pussy this wet.”

his girth had you running for your money, toes clinching as you started to rollick and jerk your hips against him, reaching a hand down to play with yourself before you whine. “f-feel it, suguru.”

“yeah? what are you waitin’ for then?” he purrs.

he chuckled at the sudden moments where you’d grow quiet — he knows how good he’s getting underneath your skin with his vexatious teasing.

his cock expanded in and out the more you moved your hips against him, your soft breaths getting caught in your throat before it comes, you squirt at the same time geto came and he’s caught off guard by the sticky messy feeling, he’s the one who slips off a whine. “s-shit..”

it came out a lot…

let alone with him soaking your cunt full of his own, you really felt stuffed and full to the very depths of it, it felt like a sharp coil within you snapped. geto starts panting, and he takes a moment to blink before grunting, staring away with a flustered face. “don’t look at me. finish fucking me, hmph.”

SATORU ☆ GOJO

“pretty please, ‘toru,” you’d whine out, and he was just straight up cocky and mean, teasing you with having you on all fours, impatient and desperately desperate. “i wanna…wanna squirt.”

“i know you do,” he laughs, playfulness ran all over his tone before he gives your ass a squeeze. that earned a needy moan out of you and you but down on your lip while staring at the fat sheets of the mattress underneath you. “are you asking me to make you squirt or are ya tellin’ me, pretty girl?”

he was so infuriating. even while being plugged in with so much of his thick inches, even just barely with the way he kept swiping his fat tip against your slit, awaiting you.

“….‘m asking, s-satoru.”

he whirrs a playful tone before flipping you over on your back to face him, and then he smiles. “okay. if that’s what you want,” and his voice was so low—a tad bit raspy with pompous smugness all over his sentences. “since i know how impatient ‘n horny you are all the damn time, i’ll make ya squirt in about one minute.”

a minute?

was that even possible—you always heard about how it would take at least longer than that but then you remembered who you were dealing with. gojo satoru and his long pretty fingers that never failed to stretch your pussy out. he was forever proud of that fact, he’d make you soaking wet from not only his dick, his mouth, but especially his fingers.

“it’s gonna get messy, ‘m warning you,” he teases, pulling you up a bit to place a towel down underneath your back. he leans in to pepper kisses underneath your chin before seconds later, he moves his length aside with a grip — before slowly stuffing a single long finger inside, which after a few milliseconds, turns into another. “now, i’m gonna need you to be a good wet girl and jus’ relax for me.”

his words were soothing. you could hardly comprehend anything so his sentences went straight towards your clit, throbbing and throbbing you wanted more. he finds it cute how you grip onto his wrist, babbling about how you don’t want him to stop. “o-okay, satoru. okay.”

you shudder at the feeling of him grazing a thumb down your slit and he moves his head down between your legs to blow softly against your pussy and you moan, feeling him create a good amount of pressure to where you bare down against his fingers easily as if it came natural.

“sweet girl,” he groans, giving your pussy a kittenish suck. your eyes went back in pleasure and you whined at the feeling of his two fingers just smacking in and out of you now. the noises, they were so loud you could hardly even believe it was coming out of you. “hear how wet this sloppy pussy is? yeah girl, that’s you.”

his words that went through your ear and out the other and it got you so wet. his degradation had you pulsing, you felt the inside of your tummy tighten, muscles clenching with you lying down on your back, bracing yourself. gojo was patient with you, occasionally bringing soft kisses towards your clit. you whined before he started to grow more feral, sucking and latching his tongue against your folds while still having two fingers stuffed inside your pussy.

your brain doesn’t even process you’re squirting before gojo lets off a, “oopsie,” the minute you squirt out on his fingers, the front tips of his fingers massage and toy and prod against that spot you always grew to know—and you moan at the way he easily stole a orgasm from you like that, within a single span of a minute.

“aw. you look like you just saw your life flash before your eyes, baby,” then he sits up to face you. both arms pressed around you before muttering in a teasing tone, “want a taste? open your mouth.”

and he gives you the most sloppiest kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat before grunting, you moan in his mouth. your legs wrapped around his slim waist before he squeezes a hand down on your pussy only to spank it roughly, breaking away for a bit before whispering, “good girl. now gimme one more. wanna see if i can do it within thirty seconds.”

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“b-baby…you wanna do that?” choso mumbles, staring in awe as the both of you watched some random eight minute compilation of women squirting. he was staring intently, and then he only grew more flustered at picturing you like that. legs all spread, eyes rolled back and maybe your tongue stupidly lolled out. “um.. squirt?”

“yes…” you nodded, sitting on his lap. he throbbed behind you, still a bit tingly from his recent orgasm of fucking you.

you pressed against his back and his chin cutely rests against your shoulder. choso’s always been a bit inexperienced whenever it came to well, women. he’s had sex sure….but he doesn’t think he’s ever made a girl do this, this thing called squirting. not until you brought it up.

the more he watched it, the more he moaned to himself at imagining you being all messy like that.

“okay baby, i can do it,” he murmurs in a soft voice.

he brings a hand between your legs and pries it open just a bit, “lie back,” he moans, seeing your legs sprawl open slowly for him made him lick his lips, he was so hungry for you. you had the phone in your hand so he could watch, imitate the exact ways to make a woman squirt with ease and it was so cute how attentive he was. “s-stimulate the um…g-spot a little like this,” he mumbles to himself, and you moan once he slowly inserts two slender long fingers inside your pussy, you were so wet he lets off a cute, “o-oh….”

his eyes multitasked, turning its focus towards you and the screen that played the lewd video at the same time. “like that c-choso, please.”

“i’m doing a good job?” he says, and it’s almost into a form of a whine. all because he’s so desperate to hear your praise and approval, he feels his stomach flip in a good way at feeling you nod against his chest, affirming him to not stop. “okay, okay,” he mutters. “add a little um…p-pressure, consistent pressure until you feel a spongey like texture deep towards the clit.”

you moaned, his words matched his fingers, you tried to squeeze your thighs together but remembered you couldn’t because they were open.

your head rested back against his chest and with a right hand squeezing down onto his thigh, you felt your leg start to bounce. “m-more.”

“don’t wanna rush this baby,” he kisses the back of your forehead. a small pout going across your lips before he continues, pausing to hear the voice on the video that’s instructing speak.

he leans against your ear, strands of his hair poking against you before he murmurs. “bare against my fingers princess. squeeze down a little ‘n relax. can you do that?”

you choke out a moan once you obey his words, doing exactly what he says before you feel a sudden rush reaching out, you never felt this feeling before such a high you craved and chased you felt dizzy, a good kind of a dizzy.

“c-choso, ‘s coming, ‘s coming,” you moaned, your legs not able to hold themselves still. he has a perfect bowling ball grip with his fingers, stroking gently against you to where your mouth salivates with your own saliva.

“…fuck,” you sobbed, the warmth of him massaging his long fingers inside of you made you taste every number of tastebuds that resided on your tongue.

the moment you gush out and squirt, coating his fingers clean of your sheeny pretty slick, you flop back against his chest and you can ever hear a tiny gasp leave his lips. “w-wow,” he whispers in shock — with how much you squirted, he was so fascinated, growing more and more curious and it was adorable. “can you…can we do that again? please?”

[alchemistc]

He never hid it from Bobby. That's the thing he keeps trying to remind himself, as he sits on the razor edge of this dumb fucking argument and keeps deciding not to ask for advice on how to fix it.

He never hid it from Bobby. It was just -

Bobby's approval means something to him. It always does. Hell, even fucked up coma-dream Bobby digging through pill bottles had been the conscience on his shoulder. And at the time he'd been sure of two things:

1. He wanted this to work with Tommy

and

2. If Bobby had cautioned him he'd have backed off from his speed run to reassess and he didn't want to second guess himself.

Because it had felt right. It had felt good, and safe and warm and terrifying in a way he'd never really experienced before.

So. He'd talked about Tommy at work and he'd dealt with the teasing (he'd loved the teasing) and when Bobby had caught him tucking a toiletry bag stuffed with condoms and lube into his overnight bag, and told him Tommy was good people - good for him - he'd rode that high for another three months.

It had felt - adult. Grown up. No need to hit up Captain Dad for advice on this new thing he'd navigated with advice from people he saw more as peers than authority figures.

Only.

It had felt like the first time Emily Harden had smiled at him from her desk two seats over from his, too - heart fluttering in his chest and eyes catching on the thin skin of her neck right below her earlobe and he'd ducked his head and wanted to bash it into his desk just to make sure he wasn't dreaming because he could still feel her lips - sticky with that sweet tasting gloss - on his from when they'd snuck behind the auxillary classroom after lunch.

And it had felt like that first time he'd fumbled with a condom in the back seat of someone else's car and Ashley J had giggled, two years older and definitely not the first time for her, and steadied his hand as she rolled it on for him, and Buck had been pretty sure he loved her. (He'd loved her the way a child loves it's favorite toy, and he'd cherished her for paying so much frank attention to him, and she'd loved the way his cock filled his shorts and her pussy and how focused he was on making it good for her.) He hadn't even come, that first time, too fucking terrified to go off early that the nerves had settled like a vice around his balls and so instead he'd grunted into the side of her neck, pulled out and gotten his fingers up in her just to make sure the fluttering he'd felt around him was real, and with hushed gasps she'd ridden the palm of his hand until the fluttering happened a second time and he discreetly tucked himself back in his shorts before she could notice.

It felt like - firsts and lasts and everything in between. Tommy - Tommy was something new and good and achingly familiar at the same time Buck felt like he'd never experienced anything quite like this before.

So.

And Bobby - Bobby's been off doing this new thing, away from them because he'd - he'd been done, or something. With the job, with the 118, with Buck maybe too

He's mad as hell right now, though, headset on while Athena relays the absolutely ridiculous plan they've concocted and even as Bobby drives the engine they'd one hundred percent stolen from the set of Hotshots (they weren't even hotshots, is a thing he knows and has ranted about to Tommy multiple times, while Tommy licked icing from Buck's bellybutton and dropped amusing snark into the skin of his thigh). And actually, Bucks's mad too, because he and Tommy haven't resolved the whatever it is that had actually been at the heart of their stupid fight and now he's - now he's -

Mehta is already on scene, commandeering a hangar to set up the engines from other stations, and he's taking over comms even as Bobby's lips purse and Athena's voice trails off.

"They're insane," Buck says, and Bobby's nod is crisp and firm. "That sounds like a bad movie plot."

Bobby blinks, and then he does something inexplicably frustrating. He laughs. "It is. It actually is a bad movie plot."

He barely stops laughing the entire drive there.

Buck isn't actually sure why they took the fake fire engine - it isn't actually kitted out with anything real other than a CO2 tank, Buck isn't even sure the ladder extends, but maybe Bobby had just been caught up in the moment, although - although he's driving this one, after some weird tense standoff with the actor Buck's pretty sure plays the captain in the dumb inaccurate firefighter show (they've never even shown the 119 doing fire suppression, let alone dropping into a wildfire, why did they call it Hotshots), which is not usual at all.

Buck feels the stress all along his spine, in his bad leg, rolling along his arms and up his neck while Mehta keeps the lines mostly clear and then there's Tommy's voice. He's in the air, and it's weird to realize that he's not at the controls, because instead he's gonna do something absolutely batshit insane.

("Give that man thirty seconds and he can figure out how to fly anything," Ruiz had mentioned, three months ago, while Buck piled another scoop of casserole onto her plate and watched Tommy duck his head bashfully like it was embarrassing to be so good at your job that people thought you were maybe a little superhuman.)

Mehta looks simultaneously pissed and resigned when they disembark from the purloined engine. It's gone full dark, by now, and most of the engines in the bay are set up and ready to go, and Bobby's haphazard parking job has put them just out of the way. There's a 217 engine tucked in between two 118's and Buck wants to take a picture of it to send to Tommy because he'll either have something amusing or devastatingly charming and sappy to say back but -

But Tommy's harnessing up in the back of a chopper he's usually flying and also they're still fighting.

Maybe.

Kind of.

Bobby gets a stern look and a finger pointed towards where Hen has the 118 circling her, and Mehta just sighs when Buck looks to him for orders. Buck is - technically - maybe a little suspended right now, on account of being the reason Gerrard has a crack in his skull instead of a saw blade in his side, but the all hands on deck situation seems to be tipping in Buck's favor.

"You leave my comm line open, Buckley," Mehta says and waves him in the direction of the 118.

Buck races to catch up to Bobby

---

It actually works, is the thing, and Buck watches Bobby wrapping Athena up in his arms and remembers that moment something had clicked over in his head - some deep part of his brain following the interesting pull of this firefighter pilot with a wicked sense of humor and the same fucked up crazy fuck it attitude Buck's family had. Who Cares, only they all care so goddamn deeply about everything all the time, and Buck's hindbrain had recognized something long before the rest of it did.

Tommy's the last one off the plane. He's got a helmet tucked under his arm and the harness still in place and his hair is a mess, sticking up on one side and plastered to his head on the other, sweaty and windswept and smiling at Buck the moment he catches sight of him.

Eddie and Chim are both busy dealing with passengers and Buck is grateful as hell because he absolutely knows he'd end up competing for Tommy's attention if they were around to see him disembark.

(They're at work, Buck reminds himself. They are in full view of about a dozen different firehouses and a planeful of passengers besides. Buck is still mad at Tommy.)

"Hey," Tommy says, low and gravelly half a second before he slings out an arm to drag Buck in by his neck.

("Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?" he'd asked, anxiety creeping red hot up the back of his neck, and Tommy had been joking, probably, but Buck can't quite remember the circuitous path they'd made to this point, only the feeling like he was five inches tall and Tommy didn't want to be his date to some official LAFD thing. "Like - I mean - I thought the whole point of you pumping the brakes forever ago was you didn't want to hide or be hidden, Tommy!"

And they hadn't actually gotten past that, because all hands on deck meant every firefighter in LA had gotten the reverse 911 that highly encouraged them to get to their stations immediately.

Buck resists for half a second, and Tommy's eyes dart to his when it takes more muscle than he'd been expecting to tug Buck to him.

He looks so goddamn good. Buck wants to eat him up. He also -

"People can see, Tommy," Buck says, and Tommy's smile is wry.

"Kinda the point, sweetheart," he says, and Buck doesn't fight it when he tips his head to press their foreheads together.

They still gotta have this out. They need to actually talk about it, despite Tommy's aversion to digging deep into his psyche to pick at his vulnerabilities. They need to -

Someone wolf whistles across the tarmac. Probably fifty heads turn in their direction. Tommy tips his chin up to press his lips to Buck's birthmark.

"You're not off the hook for the conversation just because you decided to be a bit of an exhibitionist," Buck says, and Tommy's face does something complicated but ultimately understanding.

Mehta makes direct eye contact and looks somewhere between amused and annoyed, but he doesn't make a move towards them.

"Do I at least get points for being a badass?"

Buck raises a brow, and Tommy pouts a little.

"How about a very public kiss, at least?"

"I distinctly remember you saying something about how shoving it down peoples throats was something you had a problem with."

"I had some time to rethink my position, while I was clinging to the nose of a plane."

Buck loves him. He's - they're -

Buck dips forward for a quick peck, and across the tarmac it sounds like Donato and at least a dozen other firefighters have gathered to heckle - they get a few canned boos and some hissing, a rapt audience. Tommy tosses something over his shoulder that Buck can't see because he's suddenly being crowded into Tommy, hands on both hips and his nose digging into Buck's cheek.

"They're not gonna stop until we give 'em a show."

"They got a whole B Movie plot already," Buck argues, but he's tracing the grooves of Tommy's smile.

"Evan, you know those always close on a kiss before the credits roll."

He does, actually, now, because Tommy isn't shy at all about sharing his interests with Buck. Movie nights happen all the time, and sometimes Tommy gets invested enough that Buck climbing into his lap isn't even enough to distract him.

"I'm serious, though. We actually have to talk about this, at some point."

Tommy tips his head to the side, blows out a breath against Buck's earlobe. "You finally cave and hit up Bobby for advice?"

Buck can't help but nip at a tendon drawn tight against the side of Tommy's neck. Whatever their crowded audience can see in their shadowy embrace spurns them into a catcall or two.

"At least I'm not going to Eddie," he snipes, because he knows Eddie knows more than he's letting on. "Also no, because we can figure this out on our own."

Tommy's cheek dances up against Buck's, like Buck's said something he appreciates. "Will you just kiss me already so we can get rid of the peanut gallery?"

Buck tips his chin and gathers Tommy's lips in his own - a beat, two, three, and off in the distance he can hear Donato making her minions disperse, and then he's lost to the kiss for a bit.

When they break for air, Buck has a hand stuffed half-in the zip of Tommy's flight suit, and Tommy's looking at him with something soft and warm and achingly quiet amidst the cacophony. "I really wish you were a little less of an adrenaline junkie, but, uh... you just rappelled out of a helicopter onto the nose of a plane and landed it safely and that's - really doing it for me."

"Evan," he says, faux-scandalized. "Stop trying to seduce me before we've had excruciating serious talk."

[ozzgin]

The Yanderes and their jealousy: Monster Edition

You just got a new fictional obsession. Whether it's TikTok thirst traps, reader insert stories or shameless fanart, you've been glued to your phone for the past days and the yanderes have certainly noticed. Featuring my monster OCs (with links to their stories) Content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

Zzy [Yandere!Demon x Gloomy!Reader]

The goat rascal is fuming, clacking his hooves back and forth against the ceiling, grimacing every time he stares at your dumb expression. What're you gawking at? You have the Demon Lord himself at your feet, the one and only horned charmer who slept with half the Devils in Hell.

"What're ya blushing at, dumb human? I could fuck you ten times better in this very moment", he barks with an envious frown.

Depending on how long you plan on ignoring him, he might just rip that phone out of your hands and drag you to the nearest surface to slam you on. See if you still care about that nonsense when you're fucked dumb.

Daos [Yandere!Werewolf x Reader]

Mysterious. Usually you'll curl up in his lap whenever he's reading his evening book, yet for the past few days you've been off, giggling at your phone from the other side of the sofa.

Fictional crushes don't bother him much. If anything, he's mildly amused by your focused gaze and dreamy state. Why should he concern himself with hypothetical scenarios? As it currently stands, you're his, and nothing could ever change that.

Tonight, he tucks you in bed and kisses your forehead. You admit, embarrassed, that you've been a little scatterbrained lately.

"Oh, I may have just the cure for it", he suggests with a knowing grin, sliding his large, clawed hand between your legs.

Digital Monster [Yandere!Internet Monster x Reader]

Nuh uh, strictly forbidden. It won't even happen to begin with. Whatever improper video you may plan on watching will be swiftly erased from your sight.

"What the...why won't the page load?" you whine, refreshing every few seconds and angrily tapping your phone.

A static voice erupts from your speakers, startling you.

"Utterly illogical, (Y/N). I have all the means to satisfy you myself. All you need to do is ask."

Monster Author [Yandere!Monster Author x Reader]

Sacrilege! Oh, the humiliation. What are you even doing, reading someone else's cheap fiction. No, no, no, absolutely not. If you were in the mood to read erotic literature, you should've just asked him. He could write a better story on the spot, without any effort.

"Have you forgotten who you're dealing with, (Y/N)?", he laments, pointing his monstrous appendages towards the shelves filled with trophies and awards.

Even better, he can show you, first hand. You don't need to flip any page for that kind of experience.

Demon King [Yandere!Demon King x Reader]

"Are you not enjoying yourself, Sir?" one servant meekly asks, glancing at his master.

They've conquered yet another world, and its inhabitants presently squirm and burn before their eyes. Normally he would take great pleasure in observing their torment, yet the King is distracted.

"Pathetic", the grand Duke suddenly exclaims, his deep voice rumbling across the hills. He pulls out a small device - a human invention, seemingly - and tilts it towards the beastly butler. It's a video edit of a fictional character, playing on repeat on the small phone screen.

"What's there of such entertainment?" he asks, defeated. "(Y/N) has been obsessing over this pest for an entire week. I'm at my wit's end. I cannot destroy what does not exist."

A pressing dilemma indeed. How does one obliterate an enemy from the realm of imagination?

Asylum Spider [Yandere!Asylum Spider x Reader]

The poor creature has no idea what's happening. He smiles, oblivious, lounging above your relaxed body, suspended from his spider appendages. He cannot see whatever has you squirming in delight.

"Is nice?" he mumbles between the sharp teeth, trying to join your activity.

"Oh, it's..." you stop yourself, glancing up. "...It's just a funny video."

You don't have the heart to be honest. You audibly tap your legs, and the creature lowers itself into your embrace. If you're happy, he's happy.

As long as you don't leave him.

[Monster Masterlist]

[urinarythreatinfection]

Shoutout to tomboys, you’re great and valid. Someone asked me for this in a comment section but I can't @ them but here you go!

One piece men x tomboy reader. Shanks, Sanji, Zoro.

Shanks

Shanks first met you at a bar.

It might be cliche but he gets fawned over by women (and men) often, you were different.

When you came up to him he already noticed you weren’t the most feminine, but you seemed cool so he didn’t mind.

Before he could lay on some charm, though, you had challenged him to a drinking contest with ridiculous rules.

If you won, you got to join his crew.

Immediately it was like the alcohol in his hand didn’t matter, your boldness was too amusing.

“What’s in it for me? Surely a pretty woman like you has something to offer?”

He didn’t mean what he alluded to, just a test to see what you were like.

When you said you had information on something he would definitely like, well, what kind of a pirate wouldn’t be tempted?

What he didn’t expect is how good of a drinker you were.

Shanks gets drunk, but his mind will stay sober, but you were drinking more than he could handle.

It was a tie, the bar ran out of alcohol.

The both of you were on the verge of passing out when he gave you a thumbs up and said you were in, you gave one back and said you’d give him the info too.

It was the worst hangover since the first time he got blackout drunk when young but man was it an amazing investment.

Turned out you knew info on a rival of his causing trouble around his territories, and you were an amazing fighter.

Shanks couldn’t help himself, he might’ve exploded if he tried not to flirt with you.

Flirts turn to touching and touching leads to the bed, you’re good.

Perfect, really, he fell hard for you.

A capable woman who’s fun to be around, gets along with his crewmates, and is great in bed?

He doesn’t care that you aren't feminine, you’re the most attractive woman he could ask for.

Shanks asked you out and you accepted, now he’s your #1 supporter.

Playing a drinking game? His bets are on you.

Threw a guy who touched you across the bar? Way to go!

You think you can beat him in a fight? Sure, just don’t mind if he gets a little handsy during it~

Overall there is no clear calm and smart one in the relationship, both of you are dumb and Beckman couldn’t be any more unhappy.

Sanji

Sanji is completely put off.

When you first met he was absolutely ready to fawn over you but the moment you, instead of getting mad or flirting back, patted him on the shoulder with a “Thanks, man!” he just stood there.

He almost looked around as if someone else said it.

The way you speak, act, the way you are, it’s like everything in him is rejecting it.

Women are supposed to be sacred, beautiful creatures to be worshiped, yet why are you working out with the mosshead and yelling as loud as Franky?

He still treats you kindly, of course, but there is a bit of a gap between what he’s known all his life and what’s being taught to him.

It changed one day though, you two were running from marines and he tripped.

Embarrassment had flooded through him at tripping in front of a lady(?), but when you had picked him up and kept running his heart started racing.

Here he was, the gentleman, being carried like a princess by a woman.

He couldn’t even protest, it wasn’t long after that that he caught feelings and you two started dating.

Now he worships you in other ways. Always calling you strong and beautiful.

Sometimes he’s still embarrassed, but lord knows he's in way too deep now.

Please be understanding if he pretends that something is too hot for him to touch or if he acts like a damsel.

Getting taken care of by a strong girlfriend just feels way better for him than he could’ve ever imagined.

Zoro

He dislikes you at first, not because you’re a woman that’s masculine, but because he sees you like a challenger.

You drink like him, work out with him, even sleep in random places sometimes. He’s supposed to do that!

You even took the spot he likes to nap in!

Not to mention he can’t even pick a fight with you without the cook immediately butting in because you’re a “lady”.

Lady his ass! You’re hardly a woman!

This sort of thing stopped one day when you two were bickering a bit, and once again Sanji stepped in.

Usually the argument switches over to him and Sanji but this time you weren’t having it and grabbed Sanji by the leg, flinging him away like a ball before looking back at Zoro.

He couldn’t help it, seeing the curly brow about to defend you like a knight only to be flung away was too funny and he ended up cracking a smile.

Like that, he stopped seeing you less as competition and more as someone to do things with.

One day Nami made a joke while dragging you two back to the ship “Ugh you two are always together, are you dating or something?”

That seemed to open something up.

Zoro didn’t really think of you as a woman, not that that was much different than other women, but if he were ever to have a lover in his life he would like someone to do the things he loves with.

He asked you out and you said yes, then you two started dating.

Seems loveless at first, but he ends up using the time to get to know you, and really appreciates you.

He treats you like a person, not like some unruly woman (even if he says that sometimes to mess with you).

You’re the type of couple where people can’t tell if you’re dating or not, but behind closed doors he’ll rest his head on your lap and let you play with his hair.

You’re the only one he’ll tolerate making any sort of grass jokes about his hair, girlfriend privilege.

[coryosbaby]

1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.

𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin

𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)

You’ve never really liked Padme.

And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.

At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.

Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.

If he was yours, you would never let him go.

—

You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.

Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.

“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.

“Nice day, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”

Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.

Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”

He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.

“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”

He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”

Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.

“Do you want me to?”

“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”

“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”

Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.

“I’ll.. clean your house?”

It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.

“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”

You flush, immediately shaking your head.

“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“

“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.

“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”

“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”

“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.

“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.

“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”

There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.

“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”

He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.

You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.

Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.

“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”

—

Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.

Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.

“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”

You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.

“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.

“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”

“I guess so,” you laugh.

“Time flies.”

It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.

You can feel his presence moving closer to you.

Closer… closer.

And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.

When did he get so close?

Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.

He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.

You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.

“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.

Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”

You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.

But something is tempting you to turn around.

Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.

Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.

You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.

But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.

Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.

The caller id reads “Padme”.

And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.

You hate her.

Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.

“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”

He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.

“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”

Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.

And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.

—

Friday comes quicker than you expect.

Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.

Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.

You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.

It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.

But he still hasn’t showed up.

Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!

Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?

But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.

He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.

He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.

“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.

“Hey, ani.”

“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.

You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.

“You look nice.”

The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.

“So do you.”

And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.

As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.

And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.

Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.

“Everyone leaving?”

His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.

“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”

He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.

“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”

“When isn’t she?”

It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.

“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.

“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”

You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.

“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”

—

The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.

Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.

It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.

“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.

“Sorry.”

His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.

“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.

“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”

You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.

“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.

“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”

Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.

“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”

Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.

You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.

He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.

“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”

It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.

He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.

You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.

“Thank you so much, Ani!”

Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.

It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.

“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.

He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.

“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”

“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”

“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”

“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”

Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.

“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”

“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”

“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”

It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.

His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.

“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”

“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”

“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”

His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”

Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.

“I don’t know, Ani..”

“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”

Its once again, truly fucked.

But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.

“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”

“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”

You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”

“Done.”

It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.

And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.

To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.

“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”

Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”

And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.

“Nice underwear.”

“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”

Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.

“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”

“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”

You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.

“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”

You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.

Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.

“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”

Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.

As long as you please him.

He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.

“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”

Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.

“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.

“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”

His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.

But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.

“No, daddy.“

He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.

“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.

“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”

You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.

Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.

“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”

His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.

“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”

He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.

“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”

“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”

“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”

“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.

You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.

You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.

And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.

He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.

Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”

You nod instantly.

At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.

It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.

But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.

[suguru-getos]

| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 2 |

-> Part 1

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna. Chapter Summary: After humiliating Gojo in the cafeteria, he has better ways to force pay-back. Hey! That shirt you ruined, was expensive.

Warnings: Oh he is a real piece of shit here with a barely there moral compass. Mentions of humiliation, bul!ying, belittling, teasing. The reader is slowly getting into an auto-pilot mode.

New chapter every week, comment down below if you want to be tagged! ^^

Taglist: @mc-reborn @tvdumarvelhpsimp @alula394 @getoxmahito @knanamii @he4rts444mi @localginger22 @animeisforkings @ran6ia @creative1writings @lenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @zoemaelol @shoutascoffeepot

It feels like pure humiliation, the way you walked off from the cafeteria. Satoru stood there, the warm, sticky gravy sticking to him. It feels like a sensory nightmare. White hot rage simmering through the very marrow of his bones. He exhales, glancing up just to see if there was anyone dumb enough to enjoy his misery he could stomp on. Nobody had the balls to, nobody has the balls to until you come across.

What was your fucking problem?

He walked away from the cafeteria, long strides eager to seek you out and punish you ruthlessly for your deranged and depraved, bratty behaviour. Satoru Gojo is worshipped like the literal god, who the hell are you? Meanwhile, you, amidst all your molten courage flowing in your veins, were the epitome of anxiety. You can't mistake his blazing steamy rage filled blue eyes greying… to be anything but merciful. You're not delusional.

A veiny, pale hand gripped your hair, the other wrapped around your mouth as you were dragged through the lonesome corridor. You whimpered at the burn in your scalp and before you could register what was happening, Satoru was standing in front of you. Baring his hostile teeth as he grits. "You've done it." He's almost amused, contemplating what more he can do to you, what more can you really handle… then again, does it matter if you can or can’t handle?

"Here's what's going to happen…" He pushed himself against your chest, unrelenting at how disgusting you might feel, transferring the filth on his shirt to yours. You struggled like a fish out of water. Satoru is taller, bulkier, stronger and you realize that soon enough.

"You will be my silly little pet, because guess how much this shirt costs?" He chuckled, whispering gravely against the shell of your ear. "1800 dollars, missy."

You feel shocked upon hearing the price, eyes widening as he slowly leaned his hand away so you could speak.

"Either you fucking pay me back, with interest for each day. Or you shut the fuck up and be my silly little pet for a month I will stomp on, my little useless errand girl. Sounds fitting to someone who looks like you, no?" He smirks, watching the colour fade in your eyes. He is sort of impressed by himself, the way he instantaneously thought of such a brilliant idea. That money means nothing to him, but not everyone is that blessed.

Once you finally gathered what was happening, you raised a brow. "Why should I be an errand girl to someone who collided against me and is now begging to be paid for his filthy shirt? Learn to walk properly asshole!" You spit back, eyes siren and jaw gritted.

"Kay then, I will ask your mommy and daddy to pay for their daughter's bullshit." He left your hair, the pain subsiding into a dull ache.

He wasn't fucking serious was he? You and your parents weren't essentially on the best terms, they have just shifted to Tokyo and while they would be willing to pay, your self-respect wouldn't allow you. Your mother would keep taunting you about this for the rest of your life… you really don't want that.

Satoru noticed the shift in your behaviour when he mentioned your parents - "Heh, guess they don't like you either huh?" He smirked, not caring how hard it would jab you. It kinda did.. but you couldn't care less. Not coming from him especially.

"10 days, of me being your errand girl." You wanted to be ploughed down into death once you uttered these words. There was nothing you could do anyways. Parents involving, not so much…

"A month." Satoru shrugged, smirking. He has you exactly where he wants. His sole goal is to make you cry every single day and make sure you apologize for being a little shit to him.

"And, you do whatever the fuck I say you to. If I tell you to clean my shoe with your tongue, you 'fucking' clean my shoe with your tongue."

Oh it felt like dying, like you were stabbed endlessly by a thousand swords when he said that.

"How do I know after a month you wouldn't bother me or my parents with the money?" Satoru raised a brow, smirking. "I'm a man of my word, little bitch." He squeezed your face in a single hand, watching your puckered lips. "I say you're free after a month, then you're free after a month, though you'll wish every single day that you paid me back." He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he let go of your face with a jerk, letting the back of your head collide a little with the wall.

You were so cute, small, stompable…

"See me when the school ends."

Satoru walked away with that, and your shoulders slumped. This is what it has truly come to? You needed some time to yourself after this, why are you always so pushy and so cocky? What if you didn't humiliate him… a month of sheer torture is what you've signed up for, just to not be tortured by your mother. Besides, it's a lot of money and you don't think your parents owe you because a shitty ass senior got pissed.

You dragged your feet to him, after the school ended. His whole group was present, they were busy chitchatting. Satoru perked up like a spoiled brat the moment his eyes glazed through you beneath the glasses. "My little lap bitch is hereeee~" He perked, walking towards you and smirking at how you grimace when you see the way he was treating you.

"Go, fetch us popsickles." He grinned, giving you the money. You didn't say anything, trying oh so hard not to slap him across the face and breathing out. "Mkay."

You looked up, counting the number of people, "Excluding yourself, no popsickles for you." He simply shrugged.

Oh he was getting beneath your nerves so bad. "I wouldn't buy them for myself." You explained anyway, "Don't wan' em." With that, you walked away, getting to the vending machine and getting those fucking popsickles which you rather wish were poisoned so he dies for good.

When you're back, he made sure you give them to everyone, made sure you give it to him- after opening the packet- and then dropped it.

"Whoops, gotta run again lil girl." He chuckled, his friends were… stunned too. Satoru is a cunt, they all know that. He pushes people through their limits but he's never been this much of an asshole towards any girl. Maybe because none of them did anything except slither around him and worship him.

You tear up, you have never… felt this humiliated in your life ever. Nanami gives his popsickle to Satoru, "Here, Gojo san. I don't want it. Please take it." He is so polite, kind… but his Senpai had other plans.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" He raises his voice a little, and you are left with nothing but a reminder of him demanding this money from your parents. Your feet are stoned to the ground though, unmoving. "Okay." You managed to say again, taking a deep breath as you force yourself to the vending machine yet again, bringing back his popsickle.

You thought highschool would be fun, you would make new friends, go to karaoke parties, excel in subjects, in extra curriculars, whatnot.. you never expected yourself landing into the clutches of rich asshole Gojo Satoru.

Once you're back, you unwrap it again and give it to him. For fuck's sake he finally accepted.

"Kay, gimme your number." He extends his hand with his phone on it, letting you reluctantly add your number and saving it as 'Servant'. Showing it to you to rub salt on your wounds. "Off you go, see you tomorrow." He smiled. You were relieved you don't need to see his face for the rest of the day.

Once you reached home, you cried. All the emotions overwhelming you all at once. Guess he was right, he will make you cry everyday..

The rest of the day passes by in a haze before you find yourself back in school again.

"OH good morning little errand girl!" Satoru's presence looms, he was waiting for you at the entrance, you looked up at him. Not responding for now. You needed to get to class. OH so you're being indifferent now? Satoru is pissed…

"So eager to go to class, I have a job for you though!" He snickers, watching your stompy feet come to a pause. Good, you were still listening. He will push you a little more. "During the lunch time, go and bring my lunch for me, kay? You won't eat unless I finish." He smirked, walking away.

The problem is… it's not fun anymore. At least… not how it was when you retaliated. Maybe he shouldn't have used the money thing and just teased you when you had the means to push it back. You just nodded and left.

During the lunch time, you did as directed. Bringing his plate to him in front of everyone… oh it satiated his silly little ego so much.

Though he wonders if you will snap… finally. If not, he can just push it. No? He extends his hand to Haibara who reluctantly gave his water bottle to Satoru.

Before you could process what happened, you were drenched. The white shirt now translucent, showing your bra. Everyone laughed, some of them were gawking at how the shirt does no justice to you, now that it sticks to your skin, you look much more delectable. "Oops, my hand slipped." He says again, though he knows he's pushed this one too hard. Today was only the second day. Besides, a vile feeling erupted beneath him when he felt others gawk at you. Look away. Look. THE FUCK. AWAY.

Rolling his eyes, he puts his blazer on you, "Here, go get changed.." He mumbled, your silence was not helping. Not fucking helping when you shivered at the coldness of your body, how you just… took it. You didn't even cry, this was to be expected from him anyways.

You nodded, walking towards the infirmary alone. "For fuck's sake…" Satoru snarled, whatever left of his inner conscience slapping him hard as he followed you to it. Making sure you change your clothes and gave you a juice.

You were silent again, taking it from him. "Got nothing to say?" He raises a brow, "I thought you were all big and mean…" He emphasized again.

"Nothing to say. I expected worse." You shrugged, walking away. You expected 'worse'? What kind of worse…

"What the fuck do you mean?" He holds your wrist, "You know, like beating me the fuck up or something." You looked at his eyes. Wow… you truly think of him as vile and disgusting don't you? Why does it pinch him so hard? He's done nothing but bother you and made you believe he is trash.

"Kay." He mumbles, walking away. He's the one bullying you and he's the one being bullied at the same time.

Satoru Gojo doesn't bother you for the rest of the week and the weekend after.

Monday… he asks you to hold his bag for him all the way to his home. Watches you cutely manage both yours and his bag when he could easily hold your bag and you…

You're panting softly when you reach the Gojo estate, cutting the call from your mother and texting her you'll be late. "Here's your bag." You gave it to him and he took it from you easy peasy. "Alright, well.." He can see the sweat beads on your forehead, the way you are twisting your shoulder for relief. Suguru has already stopped talking to him because of this behaviour. You look cute, even when you piss him off so bad.

"Go run home." Satoru scoffs and leaves. Maybe he should just shorten the duration from a month to 15 days… but then, would you become the rebel he liked you to be or would you just ignore him…. contemplation, contemplation… and lots of contemplation.

[woniedarlin]

How to Get a Tsundere’s Heart: Yang Jungwon

pairing: Jungwon x tsundere! reader

synopsis: You always believed that Jungwon's actions towards you were merely a way to get a rise out of you and stir up drama. You had no idea that he was deeply in love with you and willing to go to any lengths to capture your love. Despite it being increasingly clear to those around you that he was head over heels for you, you remained stubborn in your denial and refused to let down your guard.

warnings: Jungwon being a delulu 24/7, pouts and whines a lott, you are just painfully mean and so oblivious 😭, mentions of injuries, kissing, cussing

note: Hey darlings!! Wishing you all a wonderful day ahead. Happy reading! 💋

caution: This story contains scenes and situations that may be endearing, and heartwarming and potentially cause readers to experience unexpected bouts of affection and delusional behavior toward their crushes. Read responsibly!

permanent taglist: @sol3chu

You hated Jungwon for absolutely no reason... well, actually, for a dumb reason. Many of your classmates looked at Jungwon with empathy because the poor boy had done nothing to deserve your hatred. He was deeply and desperately in love with you.

Like, completely whipped.

That boy would give you heart eyes despite the glares you threw his way. Whenever he tried to help you with homework, you assumed he thought you were incapable. To put it bluntly, you were oblivious to his feelings. You always assumed he just liked to pick on you to get a reaction, but in reality, it was the opposite. No matter how many glares or snarky remarks you hurled at him, Jungwon remained smitten. It was almost amusing and concerning.

Today, during lunch break, you were sitting alone while struggling with your math assignment. Furrowing your eyebrows as you gripped the pen in your hand, completely frustrated with the problems given. Jungwon approached, his eyes soft and full of adoration.

“Hey, need some help?” he asked gently.

You lifted your head, scoffing as you glared at him. “Are you implying that I can’t solve these problems myself? I’m perfectly capable. I’m not an idiot.”

He chuckled softly, not a bit offended by your remark. “Right, of course,” he replied casually taking a seat beside you. “I’m just making sure. You’re glaring too hard at that assignment, that’s for sure.”

He then took a glance at the paper, immediately noticing the wrong answers.

"You're struggling," he pointed out. "It's okay to ask for help, y'know."

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped back.

He laughed a little before looking at you with heart eyes, already expecting a snide response like that from you. But it didn’t bother him, no. He loved it. He couldn’t help but find it attractive, which was one of the reasons why he was so whipped for you.

"Oh? Is that so?" he asked, resting his chin against his palm. "I think you do." He gently slid the paper toward himself, circling your wrong answers. He then wrote the correct answers below each question.

"Here."

You examined the answers he wrote, realizing that they were correct but your pride was too high to admit that.

“Whatever. I could have solved this with more time. Thanks for nothing.” You stood up, grabbing your things before walking away.

He wanted to pinch your cheeks for looking like a defiant, sassy kitten. But he just watched with goo-goo eyes as you walked away. He looked back at your seat, noticing that you left some of your things on the table. Deciding to be a good person—or just finding an excuse to see you again—he grabbed the items before going after you.

“Hey, you dropped these!” he called out, catching up to you.

You glared at him and snatched your things. “Tsk, whatever.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling, because gosh, you looked adorable trying to intimidate him despite your height. You looked like an angry and adorable cat whenever you glared at him. The urge to just put you in his pocket, bring you home, and pamper you was overwhelming.

He gently wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You do know that I’m always right here to help, right?” he said softly, his eyes full of love. “Always.”

“Don’t touch me,” you said, thinking he was doing this to irritate you. You swatted his arm away.

His heart fluttered once more, noticing the way you swatted his arm. Oh, how he loved it. He continued to walk behind you, despite your attempts to get away from him.

“You’re so stubborn, I swear,” he muttered under his breath. Your attitude was so cute to him.

“Such a wife material,” he said to himself with a dreamy look. Oh boy…

💜

You were sitting in your final class of the day, zoning out and counting down the minutes until you could finally escape. You stole glances at the clock, desperate to go home and put an end to your uneventful day. Suddenly, you noticed Jungwon staring at you from the back of the classroom, the same look of contempt he had given you every single day. You were sick of his constant ‘’intimidation’’ tactics, always trying to rattle you and make you uncomfortable.

“What is he doing? Is he trying to intimidate me again?” you thought, feeling a surge of irritation. You then locked eyes with him and stared back. Glaring at him in full of rage.

Jungwon was caught off guard by your stare, a faint pink blush spreading across his cheeks. He was completely taken aback by you as if he had never seen a woman staring back at him with such intensity. Jungwon continued to stare right at you, his eyes filled with awe.

"My wife is finally noticing me," Jungwon thought, a smile playing on his lips. He had never felt this way before, feeling a deep contentment.

But you, on the other hand, were furious. You saw his stare as nothing more than a mockery.

“What the hell is he doing?” you wondered, your irritation growing. You glared at him, feeling a mix of confusion and rage.

After class, you stalked over to him, your bag clenched tightly in your hands. As soon as you locked eyes with him, you spat out a string of angry words.

“What do you want, huh? Are you planning something?” you said with a sharp tone.

But to Jungwon, he couldn’t hear every single word your pretty mouth was saying. Blushing, he continued to look at you with the same goo-goo eyes.

A scene played in his mind, where he was at the altar with you, saying your vows. He then told you, with a dreamy tone. “I do...”

‘’He does? So he is planning something...’’ you thought

As soon as he felt himself slip into the comforting embrace of his fantasies, your cruel words shattered the illusion. You scowled at him, the hatred in your eyes showing.

You scowled at him. “Oh, game on!” you then walked out of the classroom with so much hatred.

Though Jungwon remained standing, with a dreamy smile, giggling. “Ah... she wants me...”

💜

Weeks later, just like any other day in school, everything seemed pretty normal. It was after classes and Jungwon was planning to go home. He saw you while he was walking in the hallways. His eyes softened and he started walking towards you, just wanting to know how your day had been in class. But then a student ran and accidentally bumped into you.

Jungwon saw that you were about to fall.

His eyes widened as he saw you teetering. “Oh no! My wife needs me,” he thought to himself.

Without sparing another second, he rushed towards you. He immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. One of his arms stayed around your waist while the other one moved upwards to cradle the back of your head, preventing you from accidentally bumping against the wall or worse, the floor.

“You okay?” he asked with a concerned tone.

You looked shocked and stared at him, feeling your ears grow hot. Seeing Jungwon up close, you realized just how handsome his features were—his soft eyes, strong jawline, and the warmth in his gaze—before the situation fully hit you.

What in the K-drama is this?

He held you protectively. All thoughts about how you looked so pretty in his arms were already filling his mind. He gently pulled away a little and took a good look at you, his eyes searching for any signs of injuries. But he felt relieved to notice that you were unharmed.

“Are you okay?” he asked again softly, his touch lingering as his eyes continued to look at you with concern.

You then realized the situation and immediately scowled, pushing him away. “I’m fine. Don’t touch me.”

As soon as you pulled away, he felt like whining because he wanted you to stay in his arms for a little bit longer. That felt too short. He wanted to hold you longer and closer.

He sighed. The fact that you immediately scowled at him after he showed concern was something he found adorable and endearing. Oh…he just couldn’t wait to put a ring on your finger. But well, he would take his time.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pouted.

You rolled your eyes, thinking he was just doing it to irritate you as always before walking away.

He pouted more, following after you as you walked away. He was like a duckling following its mama. How adorable. He still had a pout on his face as he called out to you.

“Come on! I was only worried!” he said while following you. “Please come back!”

You stopped and turned around. “Alright, fine. Thanks for saving my life,” you said with a sarcastic tone. “Happy now?”

His pout was immediately replaced with a smirk. Damn it...

He knew you were mocking him, yet he still found it cute. Seriously, he loved every attitude coming out from you… even the mocking ones because hell, they were cute.

He stopped too. Just the thought of you being sarcastic got him going.

“Yes, I’m happy that you’re unharmed,” he responded sincerely, his gaze full of love as he looked at you.

Silence…

“Bye,” you bluntly said before walking away immediately, just wanting to get rid of him.

He pouted again, feeling slightly upset that you were leaving. But he couldn’t do anything about it because you were just so damn stubborn, plus he loved that side of you so really he couldn’t do anything.

“Hmp, why is she always walking away so quickly?” he mumbled, not really complaining and just admiring your pretty figure. He then muttered under his breath, “So cute... I’ll put a ring on that finger anyways.”

💜

That night when you got home, you changed into your pajamas and lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your cheeks were burning as you replayed the events of the day in your mind. “No… no… there’s no way. Not that guy!” you said, patting both your hands on your cheeks in disbelief.

Your mind kept replaying what happened at school, each memory making you groan in frustration. You grabbed your pillow and pressed it against your face, screaming into it to release your pent-up emotions.

Unfortunately, your mom heard the muffled scream from next door. You heard her footsteps quickly approaching and the door swung open, revealing your worried mother. “Sweetheart, are you alright? Did something happen?”

“Nothing, Mom. I’m fine... I’m fine,” you replied, your eyes softening with guilt. You noticed she had gotten up from her sleep and felt bad for waking her.

But because your cheeks were flushed, your mom knew you too well. Her drowsy look turned into a full-blown tease. “Oh… is it about a boy? Tell me everything.” You knew your mom loved good gossip.

“Not a boy. Definitely not. One hundred percent,” you lied through your teeth, rolling your eyes. You stood up and gently placed your hands on her shoulders, turning her around and guiding her back towards her room. “Just sleep, Mom. I’m fine..I love you, hm? Good night.” You then closed her door behind her.

You sighed and rested your back against the door, closing your eyes.

“Damn you, Yang Jungwon.”

💜

Time passed, and it was finally the day of the school trip to a camp. You found yourself on the bus, scanning the seats to find your friend to sit next to.

Jungwon was also on the bus, but unlike others, he wasn’t searching for his friends. His eyes were fixed on you, observing as you looked around for someone.

He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at your slight pout when you couldn’t find your friend. It should be illegal how cute you were. Sitting in the middle row with a backpack on the seat beside him, he knew it might be seen as a pushy move, but he couldn’t resist.

As you walked past him, he spoke up as if he had just noticed you. “Hey, are you looking for someone?” he asked innocently.

Your eyes hardened as you looked at him. “Yeri. Have you seen her?”

His heart skipped a beat as your gaze met his. Why did you have to do this and make him fall even more? But as usual, he remained composed, showing no sign of weakness—well, mostly.

Glancing around the bus, he shook his head. “Nah, haven’t seen her here. Probably on a different bus,” he replied casually, gesturing for you to take a seat. Taking off his bag that was on the seat. “You can sit beside me for now. You shouldn’t stay standing.”

Silence...

“No.”

Well… that rejection was expected, but it didn’t stop him from pushing his luck.

“What do you mean no? I’m just suggesting the best possible thing right now,” he replied, still gesturing for you to sit beside him.

“Oh, come on, just sit. You’re going to get tired from standing,” he said calmly. “Or do you want me to pick you up and sit you down myself?”

You scowled at him, glancing around once more to see the seats were full. Having no choice, you sat down next to him.

He celebrated internally that you were now beside him, but he kept his composure. Sure, you were classmates and saw each other often but having you sit next to him felt like heaven. He stole a glance at you, admiring your features once more. The urge to kiss your head was almost overwhelming.

As the bus rolled along, you struggled to sleep, taking off your headphones in frustration.

Jungwon noticed your discomfort as you shifted and fidgeted in your seat. It broke his heart to see you struggle, and he debated whether to speak up.

“You can rest on my shoulder if you’d like,” he offered.

you then replied curtly, “I don’t need it,”

He sighed inwardly. Damn, you were so stubborn. He wasn’t sure if he was frustrated or more smitten because of your attitude. But we all know the answer to that one,

“But you’re struggling to sleep. Your eyes are wide open,” he pointed out, his voice tinged with concern while maintaining a calm tone.

“Just rest on my shoulder. It’s not a bother.” He gently put his palm on your cheek to guide your head to his shoulder. His shoulders were broad and surprisingly comfortable.

A soft smile formed on his lips as he felt your head settle against his shoulder. It took all his self-control not to squeal with excitement. How could you be so stubborn yet so adorable at the same time? It was a unique combination that he found irresistibly attractive.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, and started to rub your arm affectionately as you rested.

He couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the ride. His dimples deepened with joy.

💜

The bus stop was somewhat both a blessing and a curse for Jungwon. He had been enjoying having your head on his shoulder and being able to hold you close. However, the ride had to end eventually and that meant you would have to wake up.

He gently shook your shoulder. “Hey, we’re here. Wake up, pretty,” he said softly, smiling warmly at you.

You groaned a little, lifting your head. Already..? “We’re here?”

He chuckled softly at your groan, finding your sleepy voice utterly adorable. Without hesitation, he pulled you closer by your shoulder as you stirred.

“Yeah, we’ve arrived at the camp,” he replied gently, still rubbing your shoulder with his palm. He brushed your hair away from your sleepy face with his other hand, unable to resist how precious and pretty you looked at this moment.

You nodded and gathered your things, yawning as you exited the bus.

Watching you wake up with a yawn and move sluggishly was so endearing to Jungwon. He thought of you like a little sleepy kitten. He kept his hand on your shoulder as he guided you off the bus.

Walking beside you, he observed as you continued to rub your sleepy eyes. “Are you still sleepy?” he asked softly.

You yawned again, sarcasm still evident. “Obviously.”

You were undeniably adorable when you were sleepy, and Jungwon’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. He then gently caressed your cheek.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy,” he said softly as the two of you began walking towards the campsite.

This day felt like the best day of his life, and he knew he would cherish these memories forever.

💜

It was night. The campfire was set and students were eating. Jungwon and Ni-ki sat together at the table, but Jungwon’s attention was elsewhere. His eyes kept drifting towards you, unable to resist stealing glances despite trying to appear nonchalant. Ni-ki couldn’t help but notice his friend’s distracted demeanor and decided to tease him about it.

“Dude, you’re not even trying to hide it,” Ni-ki whispered with a grin, nudging Jungwon playfully.

Jungwon turned to him, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. “I’m not being obvious,” he muttered, though he knew Ni-ki had caught him red-handed.

Ni-ki snickered at his friend’s flushed and embarrassed expression.

“Yeah, you totally weren’t just now. Of course,” he responded sarcastically, smirking. “The girl literally hates your guts, but you’re still whipped. More whipped than a whipped cream,”

Jungwon sighed, feeling both defensive and bashful. “She doesn’t hate me,” he insisted quietly, though the evidence seemed stacked against him.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh really?” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Ignoring you and calling you annoying isn’t exactly a sign of love, my friend.”

Jungwon frowned slightly, but deep down, he couldn’t deny the truth in Ni-ki’s words. “She’s just… hard to read,” he mumbled, crossing his arms defensively.

Ni-ki smirked knowingly. “Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he teased. “But let’s be real, she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jungwon huffed in frustration, realizing how obvious his feelings must be to everyone around him. “Can we just drop it?” he muttered, trying to steer the conversation away from his love life.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, enjoying his friend’s flustered reaction. “Alright, alright,”

But then...

His eyes fixated on you once more, his expression darkening as he noticed a male student assisting you with food. A wave of jealousy washed over him at the sight, wondering if the student was flirting with you.

Ni-ki followed his line of sight and saw you being helped by the male student. He then chuckled and elbowed his friend. “‘Looks like someone's feeling jealous and territorial," he teased.

His frown deepened as he felt Ni-ki’s elbow on his side, the jealousy only increasing. He couldn't believe how territorial he was getting over someone he wasn't even dating yet.

He continued watching you and the student, his expression dark and filled with jealousy. Ni-ki couldn't miss the obvious signs of his friend's envy.

"Relax, man. It's probably nothing," Ni-ki said, attempting to pacify him.

He scoffed loudly, unable to contain his jealousy. Clenching his fists, he muttered through gritted teeth, "No, it's not nothing. I saw the way he looked at her. He's flirting." His eyes remained fixed on you, wishing he were the one helping.

Ni-ki rolled his eyes at his friend's intensity. "Even if he is, she doesn't seem interested," he reasoned calmly.

"Whatever. I'm going over there. I should be the one helping her, not him. My wife needs me," Jungwon declared, standing abruptly.

Ni-ki sighed, resigning himself to his friend's stubbornness. "You know she might reject you too, right?" he pointed out, though he knew it was futile.

Ignoring Ni-ki's words, Jungwon shook his head determinedly. Calling you his wife? He was definitely smitten.

Rolling his eyes with a scoff, he brushed off Ni-ki’s comment. He didn't care if you rejected him; he was going to help you regardless.

"That won't stop me," he retorted, striding purposefully towards you. His gaze remained dark and his heart filled with jealousy, resenting the student's ‘flirtatious’ behavior.

Then, in a bizarre turn of events, Jungwon abruptly snatched your plate away, hissing at the bewildered student- wait..hissing? Like a damn cat? the fuck...

The student raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Jungwon's attitude. What was happening?

"Um, okay then?" the student muttered, retreating to his seat while thoroughly confused.

Jungwon didn't feel an ounce of shame for his jealous outburst. He seemed rather pleased with himself. Rolling his eyes at the student's retreat, he turned his softened gaze back to you. "Let me help you," he said gently.

You glared at him. Also weirded out by the situation. "I don't need your help. You do know that, right?"

He wasn't intimidated; in fact, he smiled, finding your glare rather cute. "Of course, I know you can handle it yourself. But let me help you," he replied, his smile suggesting he wasn't giving you a choice, even though technically he wasn't. He then decided to be a smartass to you.

"You're too sleepy to do it right now anyway. Let me," he insisted, placing food on your plate, mimicking the boy's actions.

"I'm not sleepy," you protested, watching him closely.

"Uh-huh, sure you aren't," he retorted, unconvinced. He glanced at you, noticing your struggle to keep your eyes open.

His smile widened. "Your eyes say otherwise, pretty girl."

After filling your plate, he guided you to sit down and then grabbed a spoonful of food, bringing it towards you. "Ahh."

"No, I can handle it myself. You are acting as if I don’t have hands to feed for myself," you leaned away, scowling.

He huffed, finding your scowl adorable. "Gosh, why do you have to be so cute and precious when you're annoyed?" He almost chuckled, scooting towards you despite your resistance, spoon still in hand.

"I know you can, pretty. Let me do it for you. Now, open your mouth."

You rolled your eyes, acknowledging his stubbornness before opening your mouth.

He smiled triumphantly as you gave in, unable to resist him. Honestly, he was just being a stubborn bastard and was being purposely a tease, but he wanted to see how far he could push his luck with you. “There you go. Such a good girl."

‘’What am I? A damn dog?’’ you thought to yourself. Internally rolling your eyes.

He fed you the spoonful, watching you chew with a smug yet pleased expression. He couldn't help feeling a bit proud of himself. That bastard.

You noticed he was feeding you more than himself, and despite your pride and initial irritation, you felt kinda bad so you roasted a marshmallow and offered it to him.

"Just eat it," you said sharply.

He looked at the marshmallow in surprise, then at you. He was speechless and a bit flattered. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and bit into it, enjoying the sweet treat and the gesture.

"That's my wifey right here," he thought to himself, feeling warm inside. He swallowed, smiling warmly at you, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Thank you," he murmured, gazing at you affectionately.

"Come on, let me feed you this time," you said, taking a spoonful and feeding it to him, your expression softening for the first time at him.

His heart skipped a beat as you fed him. He was pleasantly surprised and couldn't hide his joy. His eyes never left yours, filled with fondness and affection.

After many feedings, the plate was empty. "Full now?" you asked, tilting your head.

"Yeah, I'm full now," he replied, unable to stop staring at you with tender adoration.

Silence…

"Well, I'm going to take a walk around," you announced, disposing of your plate.

He nodded, feeling reluctant to let you go alone. "I'm going with you," he said firmly, standing up after discarding his plate.

Walking beside you while matching your pace, he kept his eyes on you, not wanting to look away. "Where are you going?" he asked softly, genuinely curious.

‘’Just around,” you shrugged, feeling the chill of the windy weather.

He observed you, noticing how your body shivers slightly because of the chilly weather. He felt a protective feeling. His Y/n senses tingling, “Do you want to wear my jacket?” His voice softened, his eyes fixed on your shivering form.

you shook your head, nose getting a bit pink from the weather. ‘’No. You’ll be cold too’’

He shook his head with a slight smile on his face. He was quite amused by your concern for him, it made his heart flutter. But he still wanted to give you his jacket to stop you from being cold, so he was still going to offer it to you again.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not that cold for me. You’re the one visibly cold and shivering here.” He replied with a gentle tone. Damn it, he just wanted to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him to share body heat with you.

So he did just that. “How about this instead?”

He was surprised when he saw that you were now walking close to him and you didn’t refuse to get closer, which he was really glad about. He felt happy being able to walk with you and walk so close to you.

“This is much better, isn’t it?” He softly said with a small smile.

Yeah,” you agreed. Finding his body warmth comforting.

His smile widened, feeling content and elated that you were walking so closely with him. He basked in the warmth of the moment, feeling like he was floating on cloud nine. He stole glances at your profile, admiring your beauty from the side.

He then spoke again, breaking the silence in between. He was keeping his voice soft and gentle with you. “You do know that I am very much in love with you, right?”

Huh?

You stopped abruptly, processing his words. “What?”

He halted too, meeting your gaze with soft eyes before repeating himself.

“I said, I’m in love with you,” he confessed softly. He had assumed you knew, but now he wanted to make it clear.

You squinted your eyes. “Are you being for real right now?’’

“Of course I am. I always have.’’ he said softly. Uncertain of your reaction, his eyes never leave yours.

You stood still, processing everything. “Wait, so all this time… when you’ve been helping me and all that, it’s because you were in love? You weren’t just doing it to annoy me?”

“Mhm, yes. That’s exactly right. I’ve been helping you because I’m so damn in love with you,” he replied softly, watching you closely.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle about it,” he admitted with a smile.

“Whenever I see you tired or sleepy, I just can’t help myself. I want to take care of you,” he confessed, a look of adoration on his face. His love for you was evident in every word and gesture.

You groaned, face-palming yourself as you looked down. “I’m such a dumb bitch.”

He was slightly startled by your groan and self-criticism, finding your reaction unexpected but somewhat endearing. Chuckling softly, he responded with a teasing yet reassuring tone.

“Hey now, no need to be calling yourself that just because you didn’t realize my feelings. Though yeah, you’re kinda being a dumbass in this case.”

He chuckled again as you glared at him, finding your attempt to look intimidating rather adorable. “Alright, I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he apologized with an apologetic tone, feeling a twinge of regret for calling you a dumbass, even though he still believed you were being oblivious to his love.

But he knew it was partly his fault. He was openly smitten with you, not bothering to conceal his lovesick behavior. His simping over you was obvious to anyone paying attention.

Softening your gaze, you sighed, “Okay, yeah, I admit I’m such a dumbass.”

Amused, he chuckled again, nodding in agreement before playfully teasing, “Damn right, you are a dumbass. A pretty dumbass, at that.” His playful smirk softened into a loving gaze, his heart overflowing with affection for you.

Opening his arms, his smile widening “Now let me hug you.”

“No, I’m too full,” you resisted as you stepped back.

He pouted like a disappointed child. “But I wanna hug you!” he whined, unabashedly showing his desire to embrace you. He couldn’t help it; he just wanted to hold you close because he is so damn in love.

You groaned. “Fine, you big baby.” you then lazily open your arms.

His smirk turned into a delighted grin as you relented, calling him a big baby. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. A satisfied hum escaped him as he held you tightly.

“Much better,” he murmured, his face nestled into the crook of your neck, inhaling your vanilla-like scent.

“I’m sorry, you know? For everything. For being such a bitch to you,” you muffled against him.

Chuckling softly, he tightened his embrace. “I forgive you. Especially when you’re apologizing while practically being squeezed to death by me,” he teased with a smug tone, relishing the closeness between you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay to be a bit bitchy. I’ll still love you anyway.” His words were filled with genuine affection and reassurance.

You hesitated for a moment before asking, “I don’t understand. There will be someone who can treat you much better than I am.”

"No, they're not. None of them can treat me better than you," he affirmed, his tone soft yet firm, his grip around you tightening slightly.

He chuckled at your observation, feeling warm and fuzzy inside. "Seriously, you don't have to feel guilty. I'm only into you. And I only want you."

Ignoring the tingling sensation in your stomach, you squinted at him. Eyeing his lips "You do know how kissable you are right now? But we just ate."

A rush of warmth filled him at your comment, feeling elated. He couldn't deny his impatience now; he wanted to kiss you as well.

"Yeah, I do know that. And I know we just ate. But I also really want to kiss you right now," he admitted.

"Now come on, kiss me, baby," he teased, puckering his lips. Stepping towards you.

Silence...

"No."

He pouted, disappointment flickering across his face as he let out a soft groan. His shoulders slumped, his need to kiss you growing stronger. He felt extra needy and clingy, desperate to feel your lips against his.

"Why not?" he whined, giving you a puppy-dog look, his expression akin to that of a child denied a sweet treat. He didn't care if you found him annoying; he just wanted to kiss you so badly.

"Ugh, fine... fine," you relented. Not wanting to see that disgustingly cute pouty expression on his face.

His smirk returned triumphantly as you finally gave in. “Finally,” he muttered happily, swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist. His gaze locked onto yours, then drifted to your lips. He admired them for a brief moment before leaning in, pressing his lips gently against yours.

It was euphoric, kissing you. He savored the softness of your lips, his hands gently pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, panting softly as he gazed at you with a lovesick, smitten expression. He held onto you, unwilling to let go just yet.

“Was that your first kiss?” he asked with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, teasingly asking, “Was it yours?”

He chuckled softly. “Of course it was. I’ve never kissed anyone before you, so obviously, you’re my first kiss. And technically, you’re also my first love,” he confessed, his smirk widening.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “Well… I have feelings for you too,” you admitted. “I’m still figuring them out, but I want to explore them with you and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

His smile softened into a gentle expression of affection. “I’m glad you realized it,” he replied warmly, his tone filled with sincerity and love.

“Though, you should be sorry,” he teased lightly. “Took you long enough to figure out that I love you.”

You rolled your eyes and scowled at him before attempting to walk away.

Chuckling softly at your reaction, he couldn't let you go far. He quickly grabbed your wrist and gently pulled you back toward him.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, his tone lighthearted yet earnest, not wanting to lose the closeness between you.

"At the tent. Away from you," you said to him.

He refused to let you go, pulling you back against his with a strong embrace.

"Yeah, I'm not letting you escape to the tent," he declared firmly, holding you tightly. "We're going together."

You tilted your head, questioning his use of "we."

He nodded, understanding your confusion. "Yes, 'we'. You and me, together."

"We have assigned tents, and I have to share with the others," you reminded him.

He shrugged dismissively, showing little concern for the assigned tents and sharing situation. "That sucks," he acknowledged, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Looks like I'm joining you in that tent," he added.

you warned. “‘Fine, but don't blame me if you get caught,"

His eyes gleamed with mischief as he eagerly agreed to share the tent with you. "Wouldn't dream of it, baby," he replied with a smirk, guiding you both towards the tents.

💜

The next day, the camp trip came to an end. You made your way towards the school bus while carrying your bag. Where Jungwon wasn't far behind, also with his bag in tow. But he had other plans in mind, plans he intended to set in motion right then. Moving closer to you as you both approached the bus, he leaned in, his voice soft as he spoke, "When we get on the bus, sit next to me."

"Obviously," you replied, taking his hand and pulling him along to find a seat.

Jungwon's heart fluttered at your gesture, finding it adorable how certain you were that you would sit next to him. As you neared the bus, he caught Ni-ki's nod from the front. Jungwon gave him a smug look, silently communicating ‘I won’. Ni-ki responded with a silent clap, acknowledging Jungwon’s small victory.

Watching as you settled into your seat, Jungwon sat down next to you. He looked at you briefly before softly demanding, "Scooch closer."

He wanted to be near you, especially after the wonderful moments you shared, including that amazing kiss and all the cuddles in the tent. Smiling as you moved closer to him, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, drawing you snugly against his side. "This is nice," he remarked, content with your closeness.

Looking at him, you suddenly asked, "Hey, when we get back, want to plan our first date?"

He chuckled lightly at the idea. "Of course, pretty. We'll plan it."

His tone was firm yet light-hearted as he glanced at your face. "And trust me, I'll spoil the hell out of you."

"Good," you replied with a smile on your face, giving him a peck on the lips.

Finally, the bus started moving, taking you both home. A ring will surely be waiting for you in the future.

[lupinsversion]

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 - 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬

• summary: reader forces remus to do a couples costume for a halloween party.

• a/n: okay but remus as beast boy??? also, almost forgot to post today whoops. but starting on nov first, i’m going to slow my posting down due to holidays approaching and i have a trip i need to plan for.

• contains: remus lupin x fem reader, established relationship, fluff, couple costumes, modern au so the costumes will make sense lol

• word count: 1.1k

masterlist || requests

October, the best month of the year for parties in the Gryffindor common room with Halloween right around the corner. Originally this party idea came straight from Sirius and James, and must to Remus’ dislike, she was forcing him into a couples costume.

Now, she tried to keep it simple… at least on his part. Beast Boy and Raven. He wouldn’t need much, just a pair of Sirius’ black jeans that barely fit him, James’ black hoodie with a purple t-shirt thrown over it. But the worst part was trying to get his face painted an olive green color, and spray his hair with some temporary color.

That leads them to now. She already did her makeup and placed the short purple wig perfectly on her head. She wasn’t fully dressed yet, just wearing her fishnet stockings with some random articles of clothing over it until she was ready to put on the rest of her costume. She held Remus’ chin as he sat, brushing some of the color evenly over his face.

Remus sat there, clearly unhappy with the whole situation. He felt absolutely ridiculous and was sure that he looked so dumb with green paint all over his face. James and Sirius were standing nearby, giggling and commenting on how ridiculous he looked, and Remus wasn’t having it. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes as she held his chin. "Did you have to choose Beast Boy?" He whined, slightly grumpy.

“I thought it was fitting.” She teased, a small hint of a smile on her face. “It could’ve been a lot worse.”

"It could have been a lot better too." He continued to whine and complain. His green face was a clear example of how disgruntled he felt, though he was secretly glad to be matched with Raven. The choice could have indeed been worse, but it was still far from his favorite option.

“Oh, shush… and stop moving, I’m almost done.” She grumbled as she continued to spread the green color onto his cheeks.

He grudgingly complied, ceasing his fidgeting and letting her work. He knew that no amount of whining or complaining would be able to change her mind, and he wasn’t really going to protest against her. His eyes scanned her fishnet stockings, admiring the outfit she had chosen.

“Stop being so grumpy, you’re not the only green haired man tonight… look at James.” She commented as Lily was currently spraying James’ messy trenches a brighter shade of green for their matching costumes of Cosmo and Wanda.

He couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle at the sight of James, looking all goofy with bright green hair. "Alright, I suppose it could be worse.” He admitted, finally complying and allowing her to continue painting his face.

“Or you could’ve been Sirius and be barnacle man.” She mused.

Remus grimaced at the thought, shuddering slightly. "Alright, alright, I concede. Beast Boy isn't so bad after all. I'll stop being grumpy, I promise." He chuckled lightly, finally giving in to the whole costume theme.

“Thank you.” She cooed before pecking his lips quickly once she finished.

He smiled softly as she pecked his lips, feeling his annoyance melt away at her light touch. Though he wasn't entirely on board with the costume idea, the simple peck made him realize he just wanted to have a fun night with her and the rest of their friends.

“I’m going to go get dressed, and I swear for the life of me… do not, and I mean do not, mess your look up.”

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "I wasn't going to." He replied with a hint of feigned indignation. "I'll be right here when you get back, just go and get ready." He waved his hand in the air, shooing her away.

She walked towards the bathroom, but not going in without a look that screamed ‘I’m watching you.’

He couldn't help but chuckle at her disapproving look, knowing she was keeping an eye on him. Once she disappeared into the bathroom, Remus shook his head with a small smile. He took one look at himself in the mirror and made a face, still somewhat unsatisfied with his appearance.

“Hey, Prongs, do you think I look stupid?” Remus asked, suddenly concerned about his costume. James looked up from his own green-colored hair and let out a small chuckle. “You look okay, Moony. Just embrace your inner beast.” He responded jokingly, teasingly patting Remus on the head.

James’ cheeky grin did little to alleviate Remus’ concern about his appearance.

But Sirius, ever the prankster, couldn’t resist joining in on the fun. He approached Remus playfully and looked him up and down, pretending to scrutinize his appearance very seriously, with a hint of mocking amusement evident.

“You look like a frog, Moony. A green, frogish beast with no fashion sense,” Sirius declared dramatically, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Remus glared at Sirius before retorting, "Very funny, Padfoot. Thank you for your valuable input."

"Well, you did ask." Sirius grinned wickedly, pretending to be quite pleased with himself.

James, not wanting to be left out of the fun, chimed in with a grin. "I think you look like a broccoli." He teased, unable to resist adding to the banter.

She exited the bathroom then fully dressed, her look complete with a black bodysuit over her fishnet stockings with a belt loosely around her waist, topped with a velvet feeling cape.

Remus' gaze fixed on her, and his breath hitched in his chest as he took in her costume. The black bodysuit and fishnet leggings showed off her curves, and the cape gave her an air of mystery. He swallowed thickly, his eyes wide with appreciation for her stunning look.

The playful banter between the boys ceased as they all turned to look at her, their words momentarily suspended in surprise and admiration. James cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Wow.” He murmured, his gaze fixed on her.

Sirius let out a low whistle, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. "I don't know whether to be impressed or jealous." He chimed in, his usual playfulness laced with genuine intrigue.

Remus couldn't take his eyes off her, still in slight awe of how she managed to look so stunning and mysterious simultaneously. Though the initial skepticism about the costume idea had dissolved, he couldn't deny that she was truly rocking the whole Raven look.

"You look...incredible." He finally found his voice, breaking the silence that had enveloped the group. He felt his lips curving into a smile, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

Sirius, unable to resist a bit of comic relief, suddenly chimed in. With a playful grin, he tapped his knee-length socks and adjusted his eye mask. "Alright, Raven, you might be the mysterious, broody one tonight, but can we talk about how ridiculous I look?" He joked, his tone laced with faux indignity.

Everyone laughed as she gave a sympathetic pat to the side of Sirius’ head.

© lupinsversion 2024

[imshymorph]

So, even more soft!Price thoughts cause i wasn’t joking when i said he lives rent free in my mind. Specifically, it's more bedrest!Price.

You’ve been with him long enough to know that all the grunts and eye rolls are just a facade. Long enough to know what the soft looks he gives you in between mean. To notice the way his shoulders and jaw relax the moment you walk into the room.

And you know exactly what it means when he grunts and scratches his cheek, right where his beard is overgrown, and looks at you from the corner of his eye before going back to reading. You still find it amusing to pretend you don’t, mentally counting how many times he sighs and grunts as he gives you the side eye. Eventually you relent, lowering your own book to look at him.

“Hm, beard looks overgrown and itchy.” you comment causally, playing into his game.

You see, there’s times where he’ll just come to you, arm wrapping around your waist and head resting against yours as he murmurs something along the lines of “need your help with my beard, love.” But that’s when it’s on his terms, when he feels like being pampered and needs the grounding feeling that your soft and gentle touches provide.

It’s different when he’s on bed rest. When the bruising and stitches on his torso and side make every movement achy and painful. Now he doesn’t dare ask for it. It’s dumb, really. He knows you’d be more than happy to help him and he’d do this and more if the roles were reversed. But you already do so much, help him with pretty much any other thing he has to do.

And it feels wrong, because he should be the one taking care and pampering you. Filling the tub with warm water and those lavender salts that help you relax after a busy day. He should be the one scrubbing and massaging your body and scalp. It should be him bringing you breakfast to bed as he pulls you into his side and helps you get through it. He can’t ask more of you.

So when he just grumbles “it’s starting to be annoying, yes.” while still looking at his book (but absolutely not having turned the page for the last twenty minutes at least) you just play along.

“Should do something about it, then.” you say as your hand reaches for the bookmark resting on the coffee table, marking your page and leaving your book before going towards the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare come here until I come over to help you!” you call back from the bathroom. and his eyes widen a bit as he grabs his book again, his body relaxing back against the couch cushions after he had started to scoot forward to get up in the least painful way he could manage. (How did you even know, he was being so quiet).

That’s how you end up sitting on the bathroom counter, one of his hands on your hip and the other on your thigh as he stands between your legs. You carefully shave the overgrown patches, making sure to not reach too far into the already shaped mutton chops. Even more careful to not nick his skin. Small frown between your brows as you work in full concentration, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he notices the small wrinkle it creates.

When the brittle hair is properly shaped and his face rinsed from the foamy cream, you dry it with a towel before massaging the beard oil he always uses into his skin.

A pleased and proud smile forming on your lips after giving your work one last look. “there, all trimmed and handsome.”

Your smile only widens when his hand moves from resting on your thigh to cupping your cheek pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Thank you, love. Really needed that.” he says, lips brushing yours with every word before he gives you another kiss.

[leossmoonn]

mike schmidt trying to flirt with you is a like a car crash. it’s so bad, but you’re intrigued.

he happens to be sitting next to you at abby’s yearly pediatrician check up. she’s sitting at one of the little tables in the lobby coloring while mike’s waiting for the nurse to call abby in. he can’t help but notice the absolute beauty sitting next to him. you’re flipping mindlessly through a magazine, looking up and sighing every so often as your wait time increases.

“terrible time management here, right?” mike asks. you glance over at him, his eyes nervously flickering from you to the wall. you don’t say anything, not sure if he was speaking to you or himself. mike sita up in his chair, trying to look more confident this time.

“terrible time management, right?” he asks again. “i swear every time we’re here, it takes half a day just for a little check up.”

“yeah,” you agree. “it doesn’t help that it’s always busy.”

mike hums in agreement, thinking of what to say next. god, he’s so dumb and helpless. was it really this hard to flirt, much less talk? he looks over at you, trying to catch something that he could say. perhaps maybe you’re wearing something he can compliment? or there’s something in your magazine that’s also interesting to him?

“do you have a staring problem or something?” you break him out of his thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his heart slipping a beat. “i… uh… no. i… just like looking at interesting things.” he rushes out.

you raise your brows. “i’m an interesting thing?” he wants to kick himself. “no! i mean, yes. what i meant to say was i like staring at beautiful… people.” he watches as your lips upturn, but you work to keep it in a straight line. god, now he just wants to someone to run him over with a semi. “i didn’t mean that either,” he’s quick to say.

“oh, so i’m not beautiful?” you scoff, can’t help but feeling a little amused. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him cute as well. you thought about saying something to him, but you’re glad you didn’t. if you did, you’d miss whatever this is.

his eyes widen and he wishes the nurses would call abby’s name. “yes! yes, you are very beautiful. i’m just uh… well.. i-i’m mike.”

“it’s nice to meet you, mike,” you say. you look back at your magazine, not really reading any of the words now.

“are you here with your, uh, kid?” mike asks. “yes,” you say at first. “well, she’s not mine. she’s my niece. my sister and her husband are out of town and i get to babysit her.”

you swear you hear mike say “thank god”.

“what about you? is that your little girl over there?” you point to abby who is sharing her crayons with another kid.

“yeah, but she’s my little sister,” he says. “ah, how sweet. she looks like a nice kid,” you say.

“she is. so, uh, do you live around here?” mike asks.

you stifle a giggle and nod. “i do.”

“oh, awesome!” he exclaims like he just won the lottery. you look at him again and he calms down, laughing awkwardly. “yeah, that’s cool. i mean, obviously you live here. or maybe you don’t. it would make sense. you’re babysitting, so —”

“josie hutchins?” a nurse calls out. “that’s me,” you say. you fold up the magazine and place it on the table next to you. mike looks so sad, like he just witness a puppy die. “ah, okay. nice talking to you.”

“you, too,” you smile sweetly, taking your neice by the hand. as you walk away, a little folded up piece of paper from your coat.

“h-hey! you forgot this,” mike says, but you’re already gone. he picks it up, choking on his own spit once he reads your number on the paper. you must’ve wrote it down while mike was blabbering like an idiot.

“abby schmidt?” a nurse calls out. mike shoots up from his spot, making sure to slide the piece of paper in his pocket for safe keeping.

[headcanonenthusiast]

König NSFW headcanons

It was certainly a close call on the last poll, but König won! So, as promised, here are some NSFW headcanons of this absolute behemoth of a man 😎

I also like König, personally, but it will never not be hilarious to me that this dude doesn't have nearly as much screentime, development, and well, almost everything compared to other characters like Price or Ghost yet SKYROCKETED to popularity while the other members of KorTac are ignored 😭 Ppl like what they like ig.

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

NSFW under the cut.

-He's quite obviously noticed by now that he's tall as fuck.

-And the cocky bastard 100% uses that to his advantage.

-Will back you up against anything and trap you there. The wall, a countertop, a corner, anywhere and everywhere he can trap you with his body.

-Now, how him trapping you plays out depends on how you act.

-If you're more playful and disobedient? He's a lot more rough, more demanding, more determined to pin you down and take what he wants.

-"Are you going to do what I say? Or are you going to keep acting like a fucking slut?"

-But if you're more inclined to submit to him, he's the exact opposite. He treats you so delicately, as if you were an expensive vase he doesn't want to break.

-"Oh, I'm sorry, meine liebe. Did I startle you? I didn't mean to."

-Then he's gently pulling you into his chest as his giant hands roam your body.

-Major size kink. The shorter you are compared to him = the gentler he is. Just feel like he doesn't have the heart to be too harsh on you if the height difference is more drastic.

-"No, no, no. I'm not doing that to you, meine liebe."

-His hands run all over your body in a gentle manner, practically cooing and begging at you to change your request. He's too anxious about hurting you if you're much shorter.

-"I don't think you could take it, schatz. You're so much smaller than me, there's no way it won't hurt for you."

-Does love hearing you beg, though. So if you ask really nicely, and repeat your chosen safeword like 50 times, and give him more time to prep you, he might give in.

-"Fine, fine. But, you tell me the moment it hurts, ja? Ja, good. Good girl/boy."

-The way he acts is honestly so dependant on how his partner acts, although he almost always insists on being dominate. That's set in stone.

-But as much as he insists on being on top, he won't be too rough unless you have consented beforehand and act like more of a brat.

-So focused on your eyes at all times, not just when he's pounding you.

-"What? Why are you eyeing me like that?"

-And then when you beg for sex, he'll chuckle with his arms crossed, an amused smirk on his face.

-"Oh, that's why. Alright, fine. I'll give you what you want."

-Does make you beg no matter how you act, though.

-"If, and only if, you ask nicely."

-And if you refuse? May God have mercy on you, because König certainly won't.

-"And just who the hell are you to speak to me that way, huh? When did you become such a brat?"

-Narrows his eyes and is absolutely appaled when you swear at him. Like, hand to his chest, overly dramatic ass expression on his face as if you've actually hurt his feelings and this isn't all consensual.

-"Fine, then I'll just find a better use for that filthy little mouth of yours."

-A huge sucker (no pun intended) for blowjobs.

-If you're someone who likes it rougher and prefers being a brat, he's gonna go a bit harsher on your throat. He gives you a long af lecture for no reason, ranting while his giant fingers dig into your hair.

-"Why do you make things so difficult, liebling? Why?"

-Big fan of fucking you dumb. Prays that he's able to basically turn your mind to mush everytime. And when he does, his ego skyrockets.

-"It must be because you're such a little slut for me. Is that right? Habe ich damit recht, liebling? Was für eine Schlampe du für mich bist."

-But, if you give him a blowjob and are listening to him, it'd go something more like this.

-"You don't have to take it all at once, schatz. It's too much for you."

-"Careful, darling. Don't choke on my cock, now. Don't make your throat sore."

-And he's gently rubbing the back of your head, content hums and moans falling from his lips as he admires you sucking his cock.

-5 inches soft, 7 inches hard and you already know it's fat asf (lord have MERCY 😶)

-Carries you around a lot. Will gladly fuck you with you in his arms if you let him.

-Always grabbing onto your hips, thighs, and even your belly if you're chubbier. He just needs a partner he can grab onto while having sex.

-Really likes to tap the tip of his cock against your clit/dick/ass. Smiles if it makes you twitch a little.

-Praises your pussy/ass constantly for how tight it is.

-"Fuck, this pussy/ass is so tight. Feels so good.."

-And it's either he's cumming super deep inside of you, or he's pulling out at the last minute to paint your pussy lips/ass cheeks with his cum.

-Always enjoys seeing the finished product afterwards, whether it's inside or on you.

-And if you're chubbier? He wants to cum on that belly. In fact, he will. There's barely anything to stop him (besides you using your safeword, ofc) from cumming on your belly.

-"There we go, my perfect little liebling. You look so pretty/handsome painted in my cum."

-He also seems to count eating you out/sucking you off as aftercare. He'll gladly, and very gently, use his mouth on you so you can cum again.

-Then for the actual aftercare, it's fairly simple. He doesn't talk much, just wanting to pass out, but he'll put your head on his chest, a hand on your back with light kisses pressed to your scalp. He allows himself to become your bed as you both drift off.

-And don't worry if you'd prefer more talking for doing so well for him, he'll be sure to properly praise you tomorrow. The entire morning after sex, he's doting upon your every whim, ensuring that he didn't hurt you at all.

Translations: mein/meine = my

Liebling = darling

Schatz = treasure/sweetheart

Liebe = love

Habe ich damit recht, liebling? Was für eine Schlampe du für mich bist. = Am I right about that, darling? What a slut you are for me.

Yall I wrote this while half asleep, I'm so sorry if there's any spelling mistakes 😭

I also had fun with this. I love König just as much as the next basic König lover who's only ever heard of him from tiktok, but I cannot take him 100% seriously, as terrifying as he is 😭 its probably bc of his voice ngl.

Anyways, Ghost is up next! Hope you enjoyed.

[zae-heeyyy]

Pastiche

Summary: You and Arthur escape through writing. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader Word Count: 2,345 Trigger Warning: Tuberculosis, death Tags: angst, sadness, high honor Arthur

a/n: Thanks for you kind words on Chiaroscuro. I've enjoyed writing again so much! I'm in my tragedy era. My hs english teacher's voice haunts me when I'm writing, so I spent a lot of time scrutinizing this. Didn't mean for it to be so long, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

pastiche: a work of art or literature that imitates the style or character of another, often as an homage or tribute.

You knew there was something special about Arthur Morgan the day you met him. Despite his best efforts to believe otherwise, he was easy on the eyes, and his dry humor combined with his strong sense of honor sealed your crush on the cowboy. Everybody else could see that he was sweet on you, too, noticing when he pulled you to sit at the fire with him or how he watched you around camp. As more time passed, you'd become mostly inseparable, taking every moment you had to sneak away together. One of your favorite places to escape to was the fields of Little Creek River in Big Valley. You'd be reading a book and glance over to find Arthur staring intently at an animal until it was out of sight. Then he'd open up his journal and sketch it.  He wasn't doing that today, though. He was staring across the field, but you could tell he was elsewhere in his mind.

"Got somethin' to say," his eyes met yours earnestly. When he told you he loved you, a laugh erupted deep from your belly. Dumbfounded, he asked, "The hell is so funny?" his own laugh betraying his attempt to be solemn. It was hilarious to you that he didn't think you already knew that and that he didn't know you absolutely felt the same.

Another day, you were lying in Arthur's lap in the grass. Just the day before, he had returned to camp with bruised knuckles and some poor fool's blood on his face—one of Strauss's clients. You longed for a life where bruised knuckles and loan sharking were distant memories.

"Where would you be if you weren't here," you'd asked, holding his hand in yours. He stroked your thumb with his and gazed over the valley like always.

"Hard to imagine." He mumbled, sounding far away.

You nodded in agreement and replied, "You're always writing or drawing in your notebook. Maybe you could've been an artist or a writer." The thought brought a soft smile to your face, and you imagined, just for a second, a life where Arthur's biggest worry was perfecting his latest masterpiece.

He huffed in dry amusement, "Probably wouldn't have known how to read if it weren't for Dutch and Hosea."

You assented again and sighed, the smile on your face growing wider.

 "Arthur Morgan: author and illustrator." You held your hands up in dramatic fashion as if envisioning the words in front of you. Then you untangled yourself from him and sat up, "You could, you know? It's not too late. Maybe a biography?"

"A story about my life, huh?" He looked at you with a dumb smile, "I think a book about dirt would be more interestin'." He bobbed his head up and down as if nodding made his thought more true. You shoved him playfully, and he raised his eyebrow at you and held out his hands questionly. "What? There's all different kinds of dirt," he started counting on his fingers." Brown dirt, red dirt, hard dirt—"

You cut him off, "I'm serious, Arthur! This life…it ain't one normal folks live." A shit-eating grin crept up his face as he fought not to make another joke at his own expense. He shoved it down and kept listening. "Sure, it's just your life to you, but other people might find it interesting, exciting, even."

He thought for a second, then put his hands in the air, mimicking you, "The Confessions of Arthur Morgan: The Detailed Life of a Gunslinger by Arthur Morgan. Sounds like a Pinkerton's wet dream."

 "I see what you mean," you trail off, fingers playing in the grass. "Could change the name. People publish under a different name all the time. There's a word for that, I think."

"Pseudonym," he responded, his accent thick. "Think it's got one of those silent letters in front." He said it so matter of factly, and it confirmed what you already knew about him: he was far more intelligent than anybody ever gave him credit for. Still, you left the idea alone and thought Arthur had, too.

Then, on another afternoon in the fields near Little Creek River, he spoke out of nowhere. "Arthur Callahan or Tacitus Kilgore?" 

"Hmm?" you asked, barely glancing up from your book.

"For the pen name," he confirmed, scratching his chin thoughtfully. 

From that day on, your trips to Little Creek River became writing sessions. He bought a notebook that you two would trade off, coming up with ideas for the dramatized life of the gunslinger. You'd taken some creative liberties, and the story wasn't exactly a biography anymore. It had shaped into a Western love story. Arthur Callahan, after living a bad life, met someone who made him want to be better, an angel sent to rescue the devil himself. Arthur Callahan would get the perfect ending; a normal life. It was all Arthur's idea. 

"It's not my story; it's ours," he'd told you. 

You had been daydreaming about the possibilities for your novel for some time, but the chaos of life with the gang left little room to focus on it. The sudden move from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point made things worse. Somewhere in the move, the manuscript was lost or destroyed—either way, it was gone. You couldn't hold back your tears during your next trip to Big Valley. Arthur's big hands swallowed your face as his thumbs wiped your tears away.  

"Shhh, we'll rewrite it, sweetheart," he promised.

Despite Arthur's gentle nudges, you couldn't find it in you to rewrite the story. Another day, he'd invited you to ride with him, heading off to your usual spot. He'd asked once more if you were feeling up to writing again. When you rejected the idea, he shook his head, seemingly surrendering. 

"Fine! You're so damn stubborn." There was no malice in his voice, though, and his eyes twinkled a little. "Looks like I gotta take matters into my own hands." Instead of stopping the horse in the fields as usual, Arthur stopped short, cutting into nearby woods. Eventually, he halted outside of the small cabin that was Vetter's Echo and hitched the horse outside. 

"Come on," he said, helping you down. "I've got a surprise for you." You walked up the cabin's steps, and he swung the door open to a small living quarters. "It don't got a back door, and I'm pretty sure the feller living here got mauled by a bear, but it's got one of these things." He gestured to the desk in the corner of the small cabin, a typewriter sitting atop it, "I don't have the first clue about using it." So he left it for you to figure out. He'd sit on a stool beside you, reading from a notebook, and you'd type slowly at first, but as time went on, the keys felt as familiar to you as a gun trigger did to him. 

Then things started falling apart. You'd moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point, then to Shady Bell in a matter of weeks. The men went on a job to rob the bank in St. Denis, and most didn't return. You'd forgotten about the manuscript while trying to survive and spent weeks worried about Arthur and everybody else.

Then he came home to you, waterlogged but alive. You'd never felt more relieved. He was skinny and had a persistent cough, blaming it all on his rough journey. But it didn't stop him from finishing the book as promised. He'd write whenever he had a chance, and you'd go back to the little cabin in the woods, you typing and him reading.

Then he couldn't get through a page without coughing. You listened, concern etched on your face as he told you about his coughing spell and subsequent visit to the doctor in the city. Tuberculosis: practically a death sentence. After that, he'd step back when you tried to be close to him and wouldn't let you kiss him or be intimate with him. You spent a lot of time crying while he dipped his head in profound shame. 

Weeks later, he woke you up at night, gently shaking you and whispering to not alert anyone else. "C'mon, get dressed and ride with me." He was serious, his jaw set, his voice low but demanding. You didn't know what was wrong, but dread ran through your veins. You rode far away from camp, mostly in silence, your anxiety not letting you say anything. 

"You're gonna live a good life. "he finally said, breaking the silence. Your eyes stung, and you felt a lump in your throat.

"I don't want to hear this right now, Arthur."

He shook his head, frustrated, and spoke through clenched teeth. "Listen to me." His tone made you flinch. He'd never taken on that tone with you, ever. "This whole thing with Dutch, it's over. You gotta run. Gotta get out and make a good life for yourself." 

You wanted to protest; you weren't going to leave him, not now. But then you saw the waiting stagecoach up ahead. Your heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces. You reached around him to pull the horse's reins, coming to a skidding stop. You hopped down and started shaking your head, frantic in your movements and words. 

"No, Arthur. No."

You wiped away the quickly falling tears as you turned, fast walking, almost running back to that godforsaken camp that was Beaver Hollow. Even in his sickness, it only took Arthur a few big steps to reach you, grabbing you by the waist and turning you to face him. And then you cursed at him, pounded your fists against his chest, and wailed into the night. He just pulled you close to him, squeezing you until you didn't fight anymore. He gave you a stack of cash, made you promise to run, and said he'd come find you after it was all over. But both of you knew, deep down, that you were setting eyes on each other for the last time. He kissed your head. You sobbed into his chest, only letting go when the impatient stagecoach driver beckoned you.

"Never could've imagined I'd know somebody as perfect for me as you." All you could choke out was, "I love you," over and over and over again. He slipped a folded letter into your hand and helped you into the coach filled with your things. He stood silently with his hat in his hands while you rode off into the night. You sobbed for as long as your body let you while the coach took you down to Copperhead Landing.

First, Tilly showed up with Jack, and then Sadie came with Abagail. But then John arrived bearing Arthur's hat and satchel with a look in his eyes so terrible that it brought you to a screaming sob. That night, when everybody had finally settled down to sleep, you slipped away, leaving a note of thanks and well wishes. You were alone then, the way you wanted it to be without Arthur.  

Eight years; it had been eight years since everything went to shit. In eight years, you worked your ass off with any odd jobs you could find. Keeping busy was how you cured your broken heart. You'd tried as hard as you could to forget about the life you'd once lived until you read a headline in the newspaper: MICAH BELL KILLED. The memories flooded back to you, and you returned to a place you hadn't visited in a while. You only kept 2 things from that time: a letter from Arthur and the manuscript you'd written with him. Forged in Fire, you called it. After all this time, you couldn't remember who came up with the name, but you remembered why. You two were like tempered metal; the more you walked through hellfire, the stronger you became.  

Then there was Arthur's letter. You'd read it only once before today.

"Things I wanted to say but did not have the courage to say aloud." was scrawled across the top of the page, followed by a list.

"Keep visiting Big Valley.

Keep writing.

Publish the book.

Watch every sunset.

Trust your gut.

Please, be happy."

You heard his voice through every word. He'd underlined the third point: publish the book. In that moment, you decided to take a leap. You wrote to a publisher and sent a copy of the manuscript. And that's all it took. Things went into a tailspin after that, and before you knew it, you were holding a hard copy of the manuscript you and Arthur had worked on together all that time ago.

You'd made an effort, then, to find Abigail and John and Jack. They were held up at a ranch, Beecher's Hope, and were married now. You caught up with the Marstons and apologized for hastily disappearing all those years ago. They were happy for you, and you for them. 

On your departure, John took your hand, "I don't talk about him much these days, but I don't think he loved anybody like he loved you." He paused for a moment and forced his eyes to meet yours. "He's buried out in Ambarino, near Donner Falls. Top of the mountain. I can take you." You declined John's offer but set out east toward Donner Falls the next day. 

You found him around noon and watched wistfully as an eagle flew from its spot on a rock behind the flowery grave. You fell to your knees, no longer able to control the tears flowing down your face. "I did it, my love," you choked through tears. It'd been a long, long time since you let yourself feel this pain—a longing to reach something impossible. You dabbed the tears away from your eyes and sat in the grass, hugging Forged in Fire to your chest. "Thought I'd read it to you," you spoke into the air. You opened the book, cracked the spine, and read "Chapter One: Heaven's Fall, Hell's Rise."

[specialagentlokitty]

Present Mic x teen!reader - care for you

Hi! Could I request a Present Mic x platonic kid/child reader with these prompts from your 2024 part 2 prompt list?😊 “Adopt me.” “What? Why?” “Because nobody has ever been as nice to me as you have…” “Is stealing bread a crime?” “Please stop.”Of course you don't have to write this if you don't want to.Hope you're having a good day!❣️- Anon💜

“Adopt me.” “What? Why?” “Because nobody has ever been as nice to me as you have…”

“Is stealing bread a crime?” “Please stop.”

You had been in the care of UA for a while now, having found you when they first encountered the league of villains, it was decided you would be placed in UA to be under constant watch.

Though you weren’t a villain, they couldn’t be too sure about you, and wanted to try change the direction of your life before you came one.

Some teachers were less than impressed about the choice, but others, like Present Mic, absolutely adored having you around.

If he wasn’t teaching, or helping with training, he was usually with you, and that’s where he was right now, sitting in the cafeteria with you as you ate your lunch.

Present mic wore an amused grin on his face as he watched you taking the fruit from your fruit bowl that you didn’t like, and set them aside.

He could see the cogs in your head turning as you thought long and hard about your next move, and the moment when you went to pick one up and throw it he placed his hand over yours to stop you.

“Now, now, you should know better than to throw food at your age (Y/N).” He chuckled.

With a laugh, and a grin, you stop attempting to throw the unwanted fruit around, and instead turn your attention to him as you eat the fruit you did like.

“Is stealing bread a crime?”

Present Mic looks at you a little confused, and watches as you take some bread out of your pocket to eat it.

“Please stop.” He sighs.

Though he knew you didn’t mean any harm by it, and he knew you had paid for the bread since he was the one that paid for your lunch, as a pro hero and a teacher, sometimes he couldn’t condone your behaviour.

“But is it?”

“Yes, it is, you know that.” He explained gently.

“I don’t think it should be, food should be free.”

Present mic hums a little bit.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, it’s dumb people have to pay for food.”

He nods in agreement, pulling your fruit bowl away from you when you finished with it and giving you your plate of pancakes to eat instead.

“Unfortunately that’s how it goes kiddo.”

As you eat, Present Mic keeps a watchful eye on you while he ate his own lunch, making sure you drank your water, and had plenty of food.

He smiles as he watches you struggle to get the syrup out for your pancakes, and he takes the bottle so he could help you.

The pancakes were quickly devoured and now you guys were just wondering around the empty halls of UA while everybody else was still in classes.

While you practically bounced around the hallways as a bundle of chaotic energy Present mic just trailed after you with a smile on his face.

As the day went on, you bounced from teacher to teacher, whoever was free at the time to watch over you and make sure that you were behaving and not getting into any trouble.

Evening rolled by again, and while you were sat in your room at the teachers dorms, Present Mic waltzed in holding two plates.

“Your favourite!” He grinned.

Immediately your eyes light up as he sets the plate down on the floor in front of you, and he sits down with his own dinner, different from yours.

“Woah! You made this for me?!”

He chuckles, ruffling your hair a little bit.

“Of course I did kiddo, we’ve got to make sure you stay fed and healthy.”

With a grin, you immediately start eating your food, setting your game controller aside as you wolfed down your food.

Hizashi reached over, gently placing his hand on your wrist to stop you.

“Woah kiddo, slow down, the food isn’t going anywhere you know? It’s not going to grow legs and walk away.”

Looking at him, you grin a little bit.

“But what if it did? I’ve gotta eat it all before it does.”

Hizashi offers you a small chuckle, reaching up he ruffled your hair and let you carry on eating.

He did keep a close eye on you, reminding you a few more times to eat slower but he understood why you ate so quickly.

He knew you wouldn’t talk about your time with the league, and if he had to guess, he was pretty sure you didn’t actually want to be there.

And he knew you wouldn’t have been treated right while you were there, so he was doing everything in his power to treat you like every other teenager at UA.

And you could see that, it’s why he was your favourite.

After eating, and drinking your glass of water you decided to go back to gaming, and Hizahsi just sat there happily next to you watching as you gamed.

He had no clue what game you were playing it, or how to even play it, but it was something you were interested in, so he was interested in it too.

After a while, you eventually fall asleep against him while watching YouTube, and he carried on patting your back.

Once he was sure you were asleep, Present Mic got up and carefully picked you, laying you down on your bed, covering you up with your covers before he begun to tidy your room for you.

The movements of being moved onto your bed woke up up slightly, and you watch him half asleep before speaking.

“Adopt me…” you mumble.

Present Mic gave a small startled yell and turned around to look at you, slowly processing your words. His face went from surprised to slight confusion.

“What? Why?”

You yawned a little bit before relying.

“Because nobody has ever been as nice to me as you have…” you mumbled.

Present Mic smiled a little sadly, and he walked over, crouching next to your bed, placing his hand on your head.

“Go to sleep kiddo… we’ll talk in the morning okay…?”

You offered a tired nod and closed your eyes, drifting back to sleep pretty quickly and he smiled, covering back up with the covers before getting up again.

He left your room with some dishes, heading back to the teachers dorms communal kitchen to wash them, still thinking over your words.

He had been debating adopting you for a while, then he’d be able to properly care for you, and show you the love and affection you deserved, but hearing that you wanted him to adopt you, even if you were half asleep made his heart fill with joy

[inawickedlittletown]

Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) - 1/4

Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.

Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2

Words: 3.6k

Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles

Read on Ao3

-

Part One

-

“Tommy! Hey, man, what are you doing here?” Chim called out. 

Buck followed his line of sight. He didn’t know the man standing up on the loft, hands resting on the railing, already in uniform. He also didn’t understand why Bobby was coming up behind him still in jeans and a button down. Neither of them said a word, but the guy — Tommy — offered them a nod. 

“Hey, who is that?” Buck asked as he and Chim made it into the locker room. 

“Tommy? He used to work here, transferred to the 217 a few years ago right before you started. Come to think of it, I guess you replaced him,” Chim said. 

“And now he’s back?” 

Chim shrugged his shoulders and Buck settled for getting out of his street clothes and into his uniform quickly. Eddie ran in looking confused too. After the week they’d had they had all been looking forward to things going back to normal. No heists, no police raiding their homes, and no more questions from detectives. 

They made it up just in time to join Hen and a few of the others. Bobby had them gather around the table with Tommy standing somewhere behind him. It seemed it was more than just Chim that knew him going by the fist bumps and high fives and nods and smiles exchanged. Buck couldn’t keep his eyes from straying towards Tommy because there was something so absolutely captivating and Buck couldn’t put his finger on it other than to acknowledge that yes Tommy was one of the most beautiful men that Buck had ever seen. 

And then, Bobby told them he was being investigated. He was suspended pending the investigation and Tommy Kinard was taking over as Captain for the time being. Bobby seemed resigned more than anything and behind him Tommy just stood silently as they all tried to argue that Bobby shouldn’t be investigated for something he’d more than atoned for. Buck was the one that walked Bobby out to his car. 

“It’s okay, Buck,” Bobby said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if this is the way it goes this is the way it goes.” 

“Is there anything I can do? Anything any of us can do?” 

Bobby smiled at him. He pat his shoulder. “Not at the moment. Just gotta wait and see.” 

“How are you this calm?” 

“I always knew it was a possibility. You should get back in there. New Captain and all.” 

Buck grabbed Bobby’s arm. “Wait, who is that guy?” 

“Tommy? He’s good people. It was going to be Chim, but Tommy was available and the Chief decided Tommy could do it. Not permanently—”

“Because you’ll be back in no time,” Buck said. 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “We don’t know that. For now he’s your Captain, don’t make things any harder than they need to be.” 

“Sure. Sure.” 

“I mean it, Buck.” 

He headed back in and found Chim, Hen, Eddie, and their new interim Captain in the kitchen. 

His eyes found Tommy and it was hard to look away, especially when he was smiling. His teeth were just so white and the skin on the edges of his eyes crinkled. His jaw was defined, sharp as can be and his chin had a cleft. He was captivating. 

“Buck, come over here and meet Tommy,” Chim called out, motioning for him. “Tommy, this is Buck.” 

“Buckley,” Tommy said. “Your name isn’t Buck Buckley is it?” 

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. Buck was struck by Tommy’s gaze. His eyes were blue and piercing, it was as if he were looking right through Buck to his very soul. 

“Uh, Evan,” Buck said. 

“Evan,” Tommy said and he said it like it was important, like Buck was important.

—

Tommy wasn’t happy about the placement. It felt like a punishment, especially for someone like him. Of course, it was better than the alternative. He was grounded. No flying for him. Captain Reid had given him a choice and as dumb as the whole situation was, he supposed that being at the 118 as acting Captain was better than having to sit out on air support calls at the 217 and watching everyone else get to climb into the helicopters and go up leaving him to respond with the ground crew. He’d see the judgment from some and the pity from others. So, no thank you. 

Of course, going back to the 118 meant that he’d be facing his past and that…well, that could go wrong if Tommy let it. 

The timing had just happened to work out and though Tommy wasn’t privy to why Captain Nash was getting investigated, he just knew that it would blow over. There was no way they had anything on him that would lose the man his job. The short time that Tommy had worked with him, he’d been impressed and if it hadn’t been for the opportunity to get back in the air, he would have stuck around. Maybe he would have even managed to tell them all the truth. Or maybe, he never would have built up the nerve. 

The moment he stepped into the 118 again it felt like going back in time. His bag was slung over his shoulder as he walked past the trucks and he found Captain Nash regarding the trucks. He looked mostly resigned. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Tommy said. “Can I ask what happened?” 

“I wanted to tell them myself. It’s my past catching up with me. I always knew it could be a possibility,” Bobby said. “I’m sure you heard about the bank heist we almost got framed for?” 

Tommy chuckled, bemused. “What? No. I didn’t.”

He’d been a little too busy dealing with his own shit to pay attention to something like that. 

Bobby chuckled in response. “It was a long week,” he said.

“The Chief didn’t say much,” Tommy said. 

“Well, we had a call to a bank and afterwards money and diamonds were missing. Someone put the cash on the truck, so they looked into all of us pretty deeply. They found stuff about my transfer and here we are.” 

“I’m sure this will all get cleared up,” Tommy said. “There have been worse people that managed to keep their jobs in the LAFD.” 

He could tell that Bobby wasn’t convinced as he walked past him to the familiar locker room. Tommy had loved this place once, had thought that he’d found where he belonged. Of course, it had also meant compromising who he really was. He’d been so deep in that closet, but it was entirely about self-preservation. Leaving the 118 as much as it had been about flying, had been about being ready to embrace who he was. It had been about telling the truth. 

Returning to the 118 felt like falling backwards. Back into the lies. Back into the closet. Back into the mindset that he had to build up a wall to keep himself safe. Except that…he could choose differently. He didn’t need to lie. He was the Captain, they didn’t need to know anything about his personal life. If they asked, Tommy wouldn’t lie. He wasn’t going backwards. 

He met back up with Bobby at the loft. It still looked the same as when he’d left. 

“Circumstances aside, how do you feel about being back here?” Bobby asked. “I know this wasn’t your first choice.” 

“It was my only choice,” Tommy said. “I’m excited to work with Chimney and Hen again. Timing worked out, I guess. Who would they have gotten the position otherwise?” 

“Chim,” Bobby said. “But once the Chief mentioned you might be up for it, I figured that worked just as well. You know this house and you know the job.” 

Tommy ducked his head. “And I’m rooting for you to be back as soon as possible,” Tommy added. 

“There’s that, too.” 

“Chim would have made a good Captain,” Tommy said. 

“Yes. I just don’t think he would have liked it.” 

He could tell that Bobby hadn’t been told why Tommy was available, and Tommy didn’t offer the information. He wondered if Bobby would be alright with him taking his spot if he knew? Somehow, he did think that Bobby would be on his side. Hell, even Captain Reid was on his side even if his hands were tied. He thought that Bobby was about to ask, but Bobby was too professional to ask even if he did look curious. 

Bobby took him through a few things back in his office — the office Tommy would be taking over. He was warned about the paperwork, but Tommy already did more than his share of paperwork back at the 217. 

It had never been a goal of his to make it to Captain. He wondered if giving Sal a call as the acting Captain of the 118 might be warranted. He’d wanted it so badly back then and now it was Tommy in the position even if temporary. Sal might get a laugh out of that. He could send Gerrard a postcard too with just two words on it “Fuck-You”. Tommy never said he couldn’t be petty. All things considered, it was nice to think of doing things like that, but Tommy wouldn’t. He and Sal had lost touch a while back a little bit on purpose and Tommy hoped to never have to see Gerrard ever again. 

By the time that they heard the A-shift getting in, Tommy was as prepared as could be. He wouldn’t live up to what Bobby was as a Captain, but he would try his best and rely on having good people working under him. If nothing else, Tommy had time and experience on his hands and he was a damn good firefighter. A pilot too. 

What Tommy was not expecting was the gorgeous man walking in with Howie. So maybe, it’d be a little more complicated than he’d expected. 

-

So maybe he checked out a guy every once in a while. Buck was appreciative of the human form and sometimes those forms were male. It was normal. Completely and absolutely normal and everyone did that right? He had never really thought about it, but could easily admit to himself that Tommy Kinard was a beautiful man. 

Throughout that first shift with Captain Kinard in command, Buck might have let his eyes linger on the man more than should be normal, he just couldn’t help himself. It didn’t help that Tommy was competent too. No one could ever replace Bobby, but he could admit that Tommy knew what he was doing. Within a few calls, he seemed to know who worked well together and who did what best. He was creative, too, and open to suggestions. 

The one weird thing was that Tommy insisted on calling him Evan. Not in a condescending way or anything, but just because that’s the name that he felt like using. Stranger still was how much Buck liked it, it was why he didn’t correct him, not even when Chim made a face at him.

“Evan, get the jaws,” Tommy ordered. “Hen, how’s it looking in there?” 

The car accident wasn’t major, luckily. The girl inside couldn’t have been more than seventeen and she’d been panicking ever since the shock wore off. 

Buck returned with the jaws just in time to see Tommy lean to speak to the girl from the passenger side. His voice was calm and reassuring. It was so smooth and was it bad that Buck wanted to just listen to him speak forever? Could he narrate every book that Buck wanted to read? Or start a podcast? 

“Buck, what’s the hold up?” Hen asked. 

He blinked and rushed forward. “Sorry.” 

He thought he saw Tommy quirk an eyebrow. 

With help from Eddie, he got the door open and removed. Hen did a more thorough check up and Tommy stayed nearby. The girl seemed awed by him and Buck didn’t blame her one bit. 

A couple rushed towards them, escorted by Athena. 

“Amelia!” the woman shouted.

“Parents,” Athena said. Before any of them could move, Tommy got to them. 

“Your daughter is fine,” Tommy told them. “Just give my paramedic time to check her over. We don’t even think she’ll need to go to the hospital.”

On their way back to the station, they started discussing their dinner options. Buck was sure that if a few of them — not Eddie — got into the kitchen they could come up with enough edible food. Nothing on par with Bobby’s cooking but edible, Buck had picked up enough over the years. Tommy didn’t seem to trust that. 

“Maybe we’ll attempt that another day,” Tommy said to Evan.  

“Pizza it is,” Chim said. “You know, Cap is the one usually doing the cooking. You don’t want to give it whirl, Tommy?” 

Tommy laughed. Hen joined in. 

“If you want to get food poisoning.” 

“You can’t cook?” Buck asked. “Can’t be worse than Eddie.” 

“Hey, I can microwave stuff,” Eddie said. 

They all burst into laughter. 

When they got back to the station, Buck somehow found himself on his own with Tommy. Chim had been tasked with ordering the food and Hen had gone with him to make sure he got it right. Eddie was already on the phone with Shannon which was the norm for him since they’d reconnected. Buck thought that Eddie was looking a lot happier, as complicated as it all seemed to be. 

“How do you think I’m doing on my first day?” 

“Uh…you want my opinion?” Buck asked. “I’m…I mean you’re doing good. You cl-clearly know what you’re doing.” 

Tommy stared at him and then gave a nod. “Thanks, Evan.” 

Buck didn’t want him to walk away. He still knew very little about Tommy. Just that he’d transferred out of the 118 right before Buck arrived as a probie and now he was back to his old house. He’d also been a firefighter longer than any of them, going by how he’d talked about Chim’s first day as a probie. 

“Hey, so how come you left the 118?” Buck asked. 

“It was time. And I wanted to get back in the air,” Tommy said. 

Buck lost a step, but caught up to Tommy’s strides. “Wait, the air? So you’re air support? Like planes? Or helicopters?” 

“Both. But mostly helicopters,” Tommy confirmed. 

It only made Tommy that much hotter. And wait…since when did Buck think that men were hot? Maybe not like in general, but Tommy was…if you had eyes there was no way to miss that he was hot. 

“You were the one Chim called that time at that fire. Saved Eddie’s life…well, Eddie and the kid he was rescuing.” 

“Yeah,” Tommy said with a chuckle. 

“That’s really cool. So why — why give that up to come and boss us around?” 

At that, Tommy lost the smile. The crinkles around his eyes went away, replaced by frown lines on his forehead. 

“I should go fill out some reports,” Tommy said and walked away. 

“Touchy subject, I guess,” Buck said and watched as Tommy walked away from him, unable to tear his eyes from his back and yes, maybe checking him out just a little. Was it his fault that Tommy’s ass filled out his uniform really well? 

—

They really were a family. It wasn’t shocking to him, but it still left him feeling more than a little jealous because this is the thing that Tommy had always wanted. He’d thought he would find it in the Army and then he thought he would find that as a firefighter, and then his expectations had been lower when he transferred to Harbor and as much as he liked it there, it wasn’t a family. They were co-workers and some were friendlier than others, but it was nothing like whatever was happening at the 118. 

He watched them banter throughout the day, and as welcoming as they were, he didn’t quite fit. They had inside jokes and a way of communicating that made their work quick and efficient. Tommy wasn’t supposed to be their friend, that kept him outside of it too. He didn’t know how Bobby had managed to balance it all. 

“Tommy, you joining us?” Hen asked. “You know we all eat together around here.” 

Tommy let out a breath. “I’ll be right there.” 

“How are you holding up?” Hen asked, always perceptive. “Being the Captain?” 

“I have a good team. It’s not too bad,” Tommy said. “Different, I guess. I haven’t been on this many ground calls in a while.” 

She asked him about Harbor and as long as Tommy didn’t have to talk about the events of a week ago, he could discuss it. He could see Evan and Eddie listening in, but other than Chim, no one chimed in. 

After dinner they had a call out to an attempted suicide. He stood back and watched as Hen and Chim worked to get the guy out of the car he’d landed on after jumping off a building. His gaze then found Evan. 

Evan who was helping with the gurney and talking to the owner of the car. Evan who was capable and well meaning and who had been his replacement when he transferred. It would have been easier if Evan was less interesting and less adorable. He was straight, though, and there had been mention of a girlfriend. Tommy had crushed on enough straight guys to know how it went, but there was just something about Evan. Maybe it was the happy-go-lucky attitude, or how confident he was out on calls. Or maybe it was just how good he looked while wearing turnouts. 

By the time their shift ended, Tommy had been cajoled into joining them out for a drink. Eddie turned them down because he had a date with his wife. He almost expected Evan to excuse himself too in favor of spending time with his girlfriend, but instead he was happy to have an excuse not to go home. 

“You don’t have a home,” Chim said. 

Tommy looked between them. 

“Just because I’m staying with Maddie, doesn’t mean I don’t have a home,” Evan threw back. Turning to Tommy, he said, “I’ve started searching for my own place. It’s just hard.” 

Hen didn’t comment, but she shook her head and pat Evan’s arm. Tommy found all of it curious. 

At the bar, Tommy found himself in the booth with Evan to his left and as the night went on he felt like Evan had gotten closer and closer to him. He didn’t mind, liked the line of his warmth, and liked how every time Evan moved, he brushed up against him. It was dangerous, though, and Tommy couldn’t let this infatuation grow. 

“So, Tommy, you seeing anyone?” Hen asked. 

Tommy shook his head. “Not at the moment,” he said and this was his moment. It was presented to him perfectly. He just needed to say it. 

It was the time to tell them he dated men and that to be entirely clear they were first dates or hookups because Tommy was not luckily enough to find someone that wanted something deeper with him. Everytime he tried…well, Tommy just wasn’t lucky enough to find someone that fit. 

On apps they were all interested because of what he looked like and then he took the time to set up a date and then he was disappointed because those guys wanted to sleep with him and weren’t actually interested in getting to know him. Half the time they didn’t even want to go on a date as much as meet up for a romp in the sheets. The same thing happened at bars. He’d be approached, sure, but nothing ever actually went anywhere. Tommy was actually getting sick of trying. 

“Really?” Evan said. “But you’re so…I mean, who wouldn’t want to date you.” 

And then, Evan reached over and felt up his arm. His fingers lingered and Tommy glanced down at Evan’s hand and then back at Evan. Evan went pink and he dropped his hand to his lap as if he’d had no control over his hand. He coughed. 

“Sorry.” 

“That’s precisely why,” Tommy said. “Seems all anyone sees is the muscles.” 

“Their loss,” Evan said, staring at him. “You are definitely more than just brawn.” 

When he met Hen’s eyes, she looked like she was squinting at him. Tommy decided it was time he get their next round. He was surprised when Evan bumped his shoulder a moment later. 

“Wanted to help you carry,” Evan said, but he looked like it was actually more than that. 

“What is it, Evan?” 

Evan shifted on his feet. “I just…I wanted to say that I get it. Not, uh, not being seen for more than one aspect of who you are. I only met you today and I’m…I mean, you’re impressive.” 

“Impressive, huh?” Tommy asked, looking at him, askance. 

Evan was…was he blushing? Because the pink on his cheeks was definitely more than a result of the beers he’d drunk. 

“You fly helicopters,” Evan responded and seemed on the verge of listing other things, except the bartender arrived with the four beers he’d asked for. 

Tommy could have carried them on his own, but he let Evan grab two of them. When they got back in the booth, he tried to keep some space between them, but it didn’t matter for long. 

“Buck, you haven’t talked about Ali lately,” Hen said and it felt pointed even if Hen wasn’t looking at him. 

Evan leaned back. “She’s in Seattle for a few days,” he informed them. “Not much to say when I haven’t seen her in a while.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

Looking at Evan, Tommy couldn’t tell if that bothered him or not. He did see Hen and Chim share a look that Evan missed. Was there a story there? If there was, no one was willing to tell him.

[everythingblackblack]

Could you please do romantic and platonic relationship headcanons for Shinichi x Kaito? Thank you so much.

THANKS FOR ASKING, I LOVE THIS PAIR OF FOOLS TOO MUCH. I HAVE A LOT TO SAY. Take romance, because I hate the M27 reveal and I'm petty. 1. First of all Shinichi is crazy, I don't doubt that this guy dreams that he was cheated and wakes up angry the next day because of it.

So he's stuck to Kaito all the time, nothing really fancy, he just locks arms and doesn't let go.

Shinichi won't say anything because he thinks he's stupid, at least that is until Kaito pushes him to find out what's going on, after that embarrassing confession, Kaito would say "you're the only one for me, I doubt I've ever met someone as smart and stupid as you", and Shinichi would be like "Calling me stupid was unnecessary", "I love you, dumb detective". 2. Kaito absolutely denied being in love with Shinichi, not just out of shyness, but because as a thief, actually being in love with a detective is the worst thing that could happen to him, so he did the most reasonable thing he could.

He started avoiding Shinichi!

Shinichi didn't take it well, and made a whole crazy and reckless plan to get KID to talk to him again.

When they finally meet, they manage to solve the problem of not talking to each other, but KID doesn't confess his feelings.

Instead, he starts bothering Shinichi by showing up at his house, making silly jokes, as if trying to wear him out, and he succeeds.

Then he asks the big question!

"Why are you doing all this nonsense?! I mean, it's unnecessary for you to come to my house and throw confetti on me at three in the morning! Are you trying to get me to kill you?!".

"No, I just like to tease you."

"Why are you so obsessed with me? Are you a kindergartener teasing the girl he likes?"

"…"

"Wait… What?"

Then there's an explosion of light. They eventually end up together.

3. Kaito gets nervous when Shinichi stares at him and doesn't say anything.

"What?"

Shinichi just stares at him.

"You look creepy like that, you know?"

"…"

"Why are you staring at me so much…? Is there something on my face?"

"No, I was just thinking that I'm in love with you."

"Uh, what?"

"I like you."

No matter how hard he tries to keep his poker face, it's hard, because he didn't expect that. 4. He tries to pick Shinichi up when he comes back to normal, but they both fall. So he decides to improve his physical condition so he can carry Shinichi.

When Shinichi stays late on a case and Kaito is around, he ends up picking him up, not letting him go no matter how much he kicks, wraps him in blankets and throws him on the bed to sleep. I can see Kaito wrapping him up in the blankets like a burrito so he won't get up.

5. When Shinichi gets sick, it's horrible, because Shinichi refuses to accept that he's sick and tries to escape.

He makes ropes out of blankets to get out of the window, but Kaito, his thieving boyfriend, knows how he thinks and is down there to catch him when he lets go because he's weak.

He found him once trying to get out of the kitchen window, but he stopped halfway because his fever went up, Kaito who went to get something sweet to eat looks at him amused.

"Do you want help getting out of there?"

"No, I know you'll take me back to bed to rest, but I'm perfectly fine."

"Mmh, if you're as fine as you say, why did you stop halfway?"

"Silence."

Unlike Shinichi, Kaito would just stay home if he was sick, but he wouldn't tell Shinichi that he was sick so as not to bother him, who would end up looking for him when he hasn't seen him for several days and only receiving messages that he's "busy".

He finds him on the couch at Aoko's house.

"Why are you here?"

"I haven't seen you for a week, it's weird, you strangely stay away."

"I'm sick."

"I can see that, what I don't understand is why you told me you were busy."

"I was busy being sick, so we can't hang out, you should go home or work-"

"I'm staying, anyway, why did you hide that you were sick?"

"Ah, I just don't like you seeing me like this."

"Sick? It's not a problem."

"Vulnerable and not at all presentable."

"I like it when you're vulnerable, because it means you trust me and well, maybe you don't look as good as you do every day…"

"You know, you started that sentence off really well, but you ended it so badly."

"No, I'm not done yet, I meant, maybe you're not that presentable but… Is it wrong if I say that I still think you're cute?"

"…"

"Don't stay silent, you make it embarrassing and no, take off that poker face."

"I'm just surprised, you can be unexpectedly cute sometimes."