#but somehow I can just see him pulling some stupid stunt like this

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

This is something I can see Pico Della Mirandola doing but it’s about Marsilio Ficino

[transformers-synergize]

Do you have any more stuff for Sunny & Sides? Your designs for them are some of the best I've seen, and I'd love to know more about your plans or headcanons for them!

No pressure ofc, I support you and your absolute galaxy brain :D

Sure, here is a bunch of random stuff about in no particular order, lot of this stuff was just pulled from my notes but whatever lol 

Sunstreaker is egotistical, he knows he is the best and makes sure everyone knows it too. He also has the skills, looks, and combat prowess to back it up. Sunstreaker only really cares about himself and Sideswipe, considering pretty much every bots below him or not worth his time. He often makes sly comments, belittling or cracking jokes about bots whom he deems lesser. His friends are either Sideswipes friends who can tolerate him or bots who think he's cool, which is usually due to factors outside his personality. He's always down for a good fight, being ruthless and downright merciless in combat while still somehow managing to get as little dirt, energon, or other various combat filth on himself as possible, sometimes being nearly spotless after a battle aside from the energon coating his blade. Sunny likes to keep himself in good condition, making sure his paint is perfect and his polish shines, it really helps accentuate how he's the best.

Sideswipe is the nicer of the two brothers. He's outgoing and usually pretty friendly. Sideswipes is always looking for a fight. He loves the thrill of combat. He often treats serious situations more like a game than the high-danger situations he often places in. Sideswipe often can't sit still and always need something to do, and if there is nothing fun to do then he will make his own fun, he is often sparring with his fellow Autobots, trying risky stunts, pulling pranks on other bots and generally just causing chaos. He's very impulsive, often doing the first thing that comes to mind because he thought it might be fun, never considering the consequences. He's kinda like a jock who treats war like a sport with an almost ruthless approach to combat. He often tenses and banter with other autobots, sometimes making jokes at their expense, but unlike Sunny, he usually knows when to stop or when he's gone too far.

info dump bellow↓↓↓

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both emerged during the Autobot Decepticon war and never known peace times. They are the youngest of the crashed Autobots, both being around a thousand years old, which is very young when your species can live to their hundred thousands.

Twins are what happens when a shuttle-sized spark splits into two, so before Sideswipe and Sunstreaker split, their emerging was highly anticipated because shuttles are rare and extremely powerful, but their spark ended up splitting. When they finally emerged, it was a great disappointment.

they were mentored by Inferno and, to a lesser extent, his conjux Redalert (they are one of the many reasons for Redalerts anxiety). Sideswipe has a pretty good relationship with his mentors Sunny… not so much 

Sunny hates Earth, it's filthy it's wet it's squishy it's sticky it's too hot, at least compared to Cybertron's frigid temperatures, and its dominant species are nothing but a pain he hates he has to hide his existence from the stupid inferior fleshy creatures that rule this dirtball of a planet he hates how often on missions he has to have a fleshy human chaperone to perform basic task that he could easily do himself or wouldn't be a problem if humans just didn't exist. Whichever bot or bots are on a mission with Sunny where human help is required, the other bot will always be the one transporting the human because Sunny refuses to let a human inside of him.

Sideswipe likes Earth, there so much to see it his first time being anywhere without the war consent looming present of the great war, but having to hide all the time on Earth is frustrating, he's been able to seek out and do some street races without Prowl knowing, he likes quite a lot of human stuff human music is pretty good and he like some human tv shows and movies mostly the ones with a lot of actions and explosion, he like interacting with the humans he's allowed to interact with especially Carly and Raoul, thought Sideswipe often struggles to understand how fragile humans are and often can put them at risk without even knowing it. Sideswipe is still a little homesick for Cybertron, even if he's only ever known it as a war-torn mess.

their poses often mirror each other

Sunny tells Sideswipe to smile with his mouth closed because his split beak. 

Sunny is the decision-maker of the two, and though Sideswipe may make destinations for himself on his own as a pair, Sunny always has the final say. 

Sunstreaker hates Sideswipe stickers but gave up on trying to remove them because whenever he tried, he got his claws sticky. 

Sunstreaker and Tracks have a bit of a rivalry going on, though Tracks hates Sunstreaker more than Sunstreaker dislikes Tracks. Also, Sunny usually comes out as the victor of most of their little spats.

Sideswipe pulls pranks but doesn't dare prank Sunstreaker because he knows there will be hell to pay if he messes up his brother's paint job. 

sideswipe loves to cause chaos, Sunny often help

Sunny has some artistic talent, though he doesn't use it much

Sunstreaker always makes sure his frame is clean and in near-perfect condition. Sideswipe doesn't care as much but Sunny, make sure Sideswipe keeps up to a certain standard.

Sideswipe is very extroverted, loves interacting with other bots, and will talk to basically anyone. Sunny is more introverted and prefers to keep to himself and select bots. Sunny tries to encourage his brother not to hang out with bots he considers not good enough to be associated with them which is most bots.

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

As for plans for them, I like keeping what I share plot-wise pretty vague. They appear pretty early on, and they both are pretty plot-important. I don't really care about spoiling characters who appear in the first seven chapters. After that, I'm a little more sneaky and vague about who will appear.

[nsoulnet]

🧴-bodyguard els!

summary: in which the reader's father is a celebrity, so he gets reader a bodyguard for protection! ellie sees through the protests and rebellion, and she knows exactly how to get you to admit what you want.

warnings: MDNI!!!!, bratty!reader, lowkey spoiled!reader, brat tamer! ellie, smuttt, nipple play, degrading, nipple piercing, bodyguard!ellie, bdsm, power dynamics, teasing, lowkey daddy issues!reader, probably more that i forgot to list

the people have spoken! most requested from my last poll💞

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"what the fuck do you mean I'm getting a bodyguard!? you can't be serious!" you scream, fuming at your dad for his latest antics. you usually keep your cool, but he's never said anything this stupid before.

a bodyguard? what for?

you're so annoyed he's taking this step, sure he's famous and you're pretty reckless- so what? you're not a small child, you're grown and you can take care of yourself!

your father, on the other hand, seems not to care- like usual. he keeps that same blank stare as you unleash your rage, and once you pause to catch your breath, he excuses himself.

too busy with the next brand deal, or advertisment, or magazine column. soo frustrating!

you can't believe him, buying you some guy to follow you around and make sure you live the dullest, most monotone life possible! this is truly a nightmare!

before the bodyguard even arrives, you're thinking of ways to scare him off. you could completely torment him, maybe bring as many girls home as possible and get touchy. or maybe you could pretend like he hurt you! that would rile your father up!

by the day you finally meet your new incarcerator, you're sure you'll have him gone in less than a month. you know it won't be long before it's back to programming as usual.

except, something unexpected happens. you're introduced to the bodyguard, and instead of some pervy, buff man, you find a woman standing before you.

a very pretty woman.

you didn't plan for this, and it frustrates you even more that you father somehow managed to be one step ahead this time. this woman made you nervous before you even knew her name!

you have to keep your mean façade up, though, so you make sure to say something snarky. "so you're the woman who signed up to act like my babysitter.. how much is he paying you, huh?", you snicker in her face, and she just smiles.

"good money, that's for sure. my name is ellie, what's yours?", she says, walking you into your apartment. you don't even want to look at her, because it gets you all flustered.

you're surprised she doesn't say anything about your silence- she's not trying to control you yet. you're tired of the quiet.

you run into your bedroom, flopping on the bed and groaning in annoyance at the sight of ellie in the doorway. "my room doesn't even have windows- what could even happen?! can I get some space!" you yell out into the doorway, and ellie just nods before walking off. what?

she... listened?

the next few weeks are beyond what you could ever have imagined. ellie doesn't invade your privacy, she barely even bothers you, and she's discreet whenever you both go out.

it starts to annoy you how well the whole bodyguard thing is working out. because it means your father was right about this being a good choice, and you can't stand for your father to be right.

so you get even more reckless. more drinking, more nights out, more ellie having to drag your sloppy drunk self home. even so, you never heard a word of complaint- in fact, she took any chance she could find to get closer with you. it was getting irritating.

but if you couldn't take ellie down, the least you could do is a big fuck-you to your dad. let him know you can never let him win!

the press has had a field day with the relationship between you and your father, and the many rebellious stunts you've pulled before. you've gotten tattoos, some facial piercings and you weren't against most body mods.

however, you'd never done anything really scandalous. nothing like getting a nipple piercing.

you were fairly drunk one night, stumbling home with ellie's arm just barely propping you up, when you passed by your favorite piercing store. you were the most impulsive when you were drunk, and as soon as you saw that shop, you floundered right over.

so many kinds of piercings, but all you wanted was a nipple piercing- and you wanted it bad.

so bad, that ellie couldn't stop you when you got it done. she defeatedly paid before taking you home, but you noticed a glint in her eye.

the next day, ellie sat you down on your bed after your shower, and asked about the piercing. "does it hurt? is it sensitive?" she asked in a careful voice. you wanted to give her attitude soo bad, but not when she acted so caring.

you tried to just brush her off, but eventually she cut to the chase. "listen, you know im here to protect you, right? it's really not safe to... be so impulsive. i know you find me irritating. but please, just let me help you... you can listen this one time?" she says, with such saccharine eyes you couldn't help but melt.

"right! yeah, sure, just... what- what do i need to do?" you asked. she was just being so nice, it made you so flustered....

thats why you listened when she asked if you could let her see the piercings. even though letting her see your bare nipples was... humiliating, warmth was spreading in your underwear as well on your face. shit- you were aroused?!

ellie seemed so kind, gently inspecting the piercing. your nipples had always been sensitive, so they were even worse pierced. just feeling them rub against your shirt made your body tingle.

"there we go, you're going to let me help you clean 'em, right?" ellie said, voice nearly a whisper. you were willing to let her do anything- so you nodded quickly.

ellie used some cotton pads that were wet with saline solution, before just feeling your nipples with her soft fingers. she noticed the blissed out look in your eyes, and that's when she decided to stop. "alright, you're all clean! you did such a a great job, y'know.." she said, in a whispery voice.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to whine, beg for her to keep touching you, but you started to feel bad. she was just trying to help you clean the piercing, wasn't she?

"wait, what's wrong?" ellie says, pausing in the middle of putting the supplies back. "did I hurt you?" she asks, and your brain begins to short-circuit. this much affection from a girl has been previously unheard of, and it just all feels too good... your brain is so fuzzy...

ellie understands when a small whine escapes your lips. "wait... something going on here?'" she says, narrowing her eyes. she has you right where she wants you.

you stumble over your words, trying to make excuses for your flusteredness, but ellie doesn't hear any of it. "what, you really feel that way about your bodyguard?", she leans in and whispers.

you can't deny the attraction you've had to her for a while. anyway, you won't get what you want if you do.

"that- right, I'm sorry, just let me deal with this really quick," you say breathlessly. you can't bear to tell her what you really feel. it's too bad, then, that she has every intention to make you.

"no, don't worry... I can help you. just say it. tell me what you want me to do..." she whispers, before getting up from the bed with a cocky smile you've hardly seen before. you can tell she's waited all too long for this.

"ellie... els, shit, I... need you to help me over here..." you whine, hand resting on your soaking cunt. you just want ellie to fill you up.

luckily, she takes that as enough begging. you don't even realize it when your clothes are gone, or when she has you bent over the bed.

her fingers slip in and out of your sticky folds, lighting your skin on fire. all you can think of is how bad you want her.

her warm tongue abuses your clit, her hands have a bruising grip on your thighs. she has your legs shaking and your head spinning.

"js'sso pretty down here, right sweetness?" she mumbles, giving your ass a light slap before getting up and undressing herself. a thick, 8-inch marbled strap made its way out of her boxers, and you practically drooled.

but you'd taken many straps before, 8 inches wasn't too bad for you. so you got cocky. "what, only 8? you sure you don't have something bigger?" you sneered, and a look flashed in her eyes.

"there she is, the brat is back isn't she?" she chuckled. her hand snaked down your back teasingly, before pressing your back into a deeper arch. you groaned at the pressure, but it wasn't too much.

"you gonna p-put it in already?" you say, voice wavering. ellie looks kind of scary, like she's been waiting for you to say something distasteful.

her hands grip your hips, and you feel the strap slide in. it's definitely got some girth to it, but what's really shocking is how quickly ellie slams it in. so fast, you feel like you can taste her in your mouth.

"come on, where did the attitude go? i thought 8 inches was nothing for you?" she whispers in your ear, sliding in and out at a harsh pace. you can't even speak, body shaking as she fucks you relentlessly.

one of her hands is playing with your nipple, and the other is gently rubbing circles on your clit. "els- ellie, please.." you choke out. she's going so roughly, but you feel like you're about to cum all over yourself.

"you know, you act so insufferable... celebrity's daughter, thinking she can treat people like shit, because what? 'cause her daddy doesn't pay enough attention to 'er?" she says, groaning at how tight you're squeezing the strap.

" 'm so sorry els- shitt, ellie, please..." you whimper, but she just gives your thigh a light smack. "you're sorry, huh?" she mocks, before grabbing your face and kissing all over your lips. "you gonna be good now, right? 'cause bad girls don't get to cum!" she grunts, slamming her hips into yours even harder. your cum is running down your legs, a creamy mess that gets your thighs all sticky and tacky.

"mhm, m'gonna be so good for you els! please, please just let me cum..", you mumble, shoving your face into a pillow because you're just so needy that you put your defenses down.

"good- shit, good fucking girl." she coos, giving your sloppy wet cunt multiple light slaps. "you gonna cum? come on baby, you can do it..."

for a second, everything is misty. your legs shake and go weak, stuffing you even fuller of ellie's thick strap. creamy, sticky squirt sprays all over the bed, while ellie's grip on your hips tightens.

"shit, you- you feel so good..." she mumbles, before nearly collapsing on top of you from the intensity of her own orgasm.

you lay on the bed, out of breath, when suddenly she leans in close from behind you and whispers something.

"round two?"

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩.✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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[eldritch-spouse]

*me accidentally summoning a demon, using a ritual I didn’t know would work*

*trying to shove them back through the portal before they can fully emerge.*: sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry-

[You rolled a 1, that demon is Mervin.]

You have the audacity to summon him during his after-work bath. Summon him with enough resources that he's not given the option to deny it.

Mervin yells hard enough to probably startle his brothers as the water floods out, supernaturally splashed away from the tub, where a large rift now sucks him into the surface. He's afforded no inch of dignity or self-respect, thrown into a lopsided summoning circle naked, wet and cold.

The first thing he sees after catching his breath and rattling at the temperature is a human. This small, insignificant bug frozen in place like a deer entranced by headlights.

And then, before he can even bark a word, you're trying to shove him back into a closing rift by the top of his head. What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!

Idiot that you are for touching the demon you summoned without establishing a deal first, Mervin can very easily grab your forearm and yank you into the circle, effectively throwing you off and avoiding getting a limb amputated when the rift finally zips closed. Just the mere realization that you could have gravely harmed him in that stunt has the pride demon snarling from the chest, loudly enough to make you scoot back, still spewing apologies and clutching your likely injured arm.

He's seeing red.

It's not long before he's squatting to pull you towards him, hearing none of your frightened bleating and snagging a flailing ankle that is used to reel you close forcefully. A purple figure looms over yours, droplets of water staining your clothes as Mervin studies your paralyzed form from top to bottom. There's nothing about you remotely serious enough to indicate you know what you just did. In fact, you look like a complete buffoon that somehow got their grubby hands in a summoning grimoire. He's so angry he thinks a blood vessel is going to burst.

" Idiot! Moron! Brainless, mumbling child! " He growls, knowing damn well you're a grown human. He'd expect this out of a stupid teenager.

" I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorryI'msorry-! " You keep heaving like a chant, cheeks heated, palms limply bared.

Mervin has to snap you out of the fit. An index and thumb pinch soft cheeks until you mouth has puckered into an 'o'. " What. Do. You. Want? " He warns.

" Wh... What? "

The claws tighten their hold, piercing into skin gratuitously enough to make you whine and squirm. You're not so annoying when you're quiet. Pretty, even, for a human. He catches himself staring at your lips for longer than he should and frowns. " Why did you summon me, you half-witted maggot? "

" I didn't- Didn't mean to. I didn't think it'd work! "

In that moment, Merv can only shriek internally. This will take so much longer than he thought possible. Honestly, he could just kill you. End the encounter, find a way back home. But... You're cute enough to bully some, especially after how you've inconvenienced him. Might as well get some entertainment out of you.

" There are sewer rats more dignified than you. " He mutters, then harshly rolls you out of the circle before standing tall.

You're confused, naturally, cowering under his judgemental stare and trying to appear minimally composed. " ... Now what? "

He wants to bite you.

" Now you make a deal with me, dumbass. " He flicks water droplets off his shoulder.

" But I don't kn- "

" I don't care! Finish this! "

" Well... " Your fidgeting hands shake, your throat sounds dry. " What kind of services do you provide? "

Mervin looks at the ceiling so the urge to choke you doesn't overwhelm him. " Would it kill you to read before inviting the demonic into your home? Lords, if I knocked on your skull there'd be an echo, wouldn't there? "

You only shuffle your feet closer, looking away.

" I'll kill anyone you want. "

Your eyes nearly pop out your sockets. " N- None of that! "

" I'll ruin the reputation of someone you know. I'll make people worship you. I'll frame- "

" Stop- Stop please, I don't want that. " Your meek interruption has Mervin stalling. Humans are usually easily swayed by rather simple suggestions, you must really be in the wrong side of witchcraft to look this scandalized.

He shakes his head, pinching his brow ridge. " Suggestions? "

" Can't... I dunno, can't you just watch a movie with me tonight? Like, I didn't mean for any of this to happen- "

" You want me to watch a movie with you. " Mervin interrupts, unreadable.

" ... Yes, please? "

" And what am I getting in return? " Any self-respecting pride demon would honestly have torn you to shreds by now.

If you weren't stumped before, you are now. It's clear you're not going to come up with anything in the next five minutes, which Mervin can't be fucked to wait through.

" Clothes. And you're serving me for a full week. " He provides.

The gasp you let out almost endears him. " S- Serving you?! "

" This is beyond disrespectful, I should gut you, but I'm offering you a place as my servant for a week. " The demon huffs. " Take this as the mercy you know it is. "

There's a pause.

" Okay... "

You fucking idiot.

Mervin grins for a moment. The deal has been struck (very poorly, might he add), so he can now properly step out. The first thing he does is sit on your couch, legs crossed, an impatient yet mildly self-satisfied tail swaying around.

You scurry like a terrorized house cat, he hears you devastating a closet, eventually coming back with a long robe, who you shakily offer to the mid-ranker. Mervin rips it off your hand and allows himself some modesty, finally, leaning back with his eyes fully closed. This will do as minimal relaxation. Not as good as his bath, but passable.

Fortunately, you make the wise decision not to sit too close to the demon, reaching to open a bag of popcorn on the coffee table. His nose crinkles at the noise. " What are we watching, human? " He prods.

" Uhh, the Star War- "

" No. Pick something else. "

Mervin peeks at you nervously channel surfing, smirking to himself.

This next week's going to be so amusing. If he can keep his no-good brothers out of it.

[aayakashii]

Can I have a 11❤️ and 12❤️ fluffy fic for Ed please?

Also a 40❤️ and 41❤️ smutty fix for Leo?

Thank you! 😊

I had to choose between the Ed or Leo drabble, and since I had other similar Leo requests, I chose him, sorry 😭 I promise I'll write some fluff for Ed eventually (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑) and thank you for liking my writing!! It means the world to me <3

35❤️ A kiss against a wall

40❤️ An impulsive kiss

41❤️ A kiss out of spite

Warning: spicy and kinda dubcon (?) Nothing that explicit, but still: MDNI.

Leo was sucking on a blueberry lollipop. Loudly. His lips puckered as he pulled it out of his mouth with a loud and aggravating pop. He then held it right in front of your lips.

“Lick it” he said, flatly, his face portraying no emotion. You could see how his tongue was stained blue and so were the insides of his lips.

You glared at him.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” you hissed, wishing you could throw daggers through your eyes and into his acid yellow irises.

He had you uncomfortably pinned against the wall of his room, his thigh forcefully shoved between your legs and one arm planted right beside your head.

He was close. Way too close for comfort. You could smell his designer cologne and look into the pores on his face – all perfectly closed and moisturized. His sweet breath fanned your own cheeks and you knew you looked like his absolute opposite: sweaty, flustered and haggard. Your heart beat fast inside your ribcage, but at least you knew it wasn't because you were excited at this development.

No. You just were fucking angry.

Leo shrugged.

“You've been avoiding me all day on purpose. Like, ignoring my dms and all. I had to grab your attention somehow, duh.” he wiggled the lollipop in front of you again “Come ooon. Lick it.”

You shifted in your position, but Leo barely budged. Goddamn the stupid strength of these ghouls, you thought.

You tried turning your head away from him, but he followed your movement anyway, head tilting to the side as he forced himself to stay under your gaze. He batted his eyelashes as he managed to make eye contact with you again.

You groaned.

“Of course I'm ignoring you. I'm not a masochist that's going to accept all your insults.”

He pouted, putting the lollipop inside his mouth again to give it a harsh suck – purposefully making an extremely grating and embarrassing sound.

You knew what he was doing, but you refused to let him have the satisfaction of flustering you.

“You used to be such a good pet, you know” he shook his head, feigning hurt “You used to accept everything I said with a nod and an ‘okay’. Where's my old and nicer Honor Roll?”

You laughed bitterly.

“Even I have my limits, Leo. I'm not going to give all my time and energy to some wannabe playboy influencer who can't do anything but be fake and mean.”

That seemed to have peeved him a bit more than you were expecting. You swallowed hard as you watched his gaze become bitterly cold. He pushed his thigh further against you.

“I said. Fucking lick it.” he murmured through gritted teeth, pushing the lollipop inside your mouth once you gasped at the friction of his thigh between your legs.

You hesitantly closed your lips, the artificial blueberry taste quickly coating your mouth as he rubbed it against your tongue.

“Suck it.” he began pushing the candy further into your mouth and you quickly complied, afraid he'd push too far just to make you gag.

You sucked the lollipop and a smirk slowly tugged the corner of Leo's mouth upwards. He patted your head once the hard candy was out of your mouth with a pop as well.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, breathlessly, while he stuck out his tongue, making a show of putting the candy, now coated with your saliva, back inside his mouth.

You grimaced when he hummed loudly. It was awful, having to admit to yourself that this little stunt of his was arousing you, as you felt an uncomfortable heat pool in your groin.

However, as you looked down, you realized how Leo was anything but unaffected as well – the tent in his pants was very much visible, and you gasped.

He grinned maniacally, extremely pleased at how you had noticed the bulge in his pants. Quickly, he pressed his hips against yours and grinded shamelessly, moaning pornographically right next to your ear.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to ground yourself so you wouldn't fall straight into his trap just because you got excited, of all things. You wouldn't allow this humiliation.

“Open your eyes” he mumbled breathlessly with the candy still inside his mouth “I have to have your eyes on me, otherwise none of this will be worth it” he completed, and you had a feeling he wasn't just talking about humping you like some horny teenager.

You breathed deeply as he kept on grinding against your core slowly, further awakening an unwanted pleasure in you.

“You hate me, Leo” you whispered against his cheek while he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

He giggled.

“And I love hating you” he raised his head, mumbling his words against the corner of your lips before taking the lollipop out of his mouth to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Fuck you.” you growled.

“I would like you to help me do that.” Leo moaned, as if your hatred towards him brought him great pleasure.

Without actually putting much thought into your actions, you snatched the lollipop out of his hand, placing it against your lips and pushing it against his.

Leo's eyes widened as your tongue swirled against the candy and prodded against his own lips. A satisfied chuckle resounded inside his chest once he understood what you were doing, and he quickly followed your movements.

You felt filthy as you kissed Leo, sharing the lollipop between your tongue and his. You two sucked and licked the candy, drool stained blue running down to your chins, and Leo whined against your mouth.

Like a whore, you thought.

You broke the kiss first, eyeing how his lips were fully stained blue, and you thought that yours probably looked the same. As you threw the accursed lollipop in the trash nearby, the realization finally hit you.

Brilliant. Now that both of you had blueberry coloring all over your mouths, anyone who looked at you would probably guess something might have happened between you two.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, slapping your hand against your forehead as you realized you, indeed, ended up falling straight into his trap, no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

He smiled devilishly, grabbing your hand and placing it against his painfully hard bulge. You bit your lip, stifling whatever aggravating noise could come out of your mouth.

“Now that it's come to this, you could just stay and fuck me like you said you would, hm?” he pleaded, all brightly doe eyed and feigned innocence.

“I never said that.” you spat.

“No?” he placed a finger on his chin, pensive “Funny, I could swear you said ‘Fuck you’.”

You widened your eyes at his nonsensical words. You opened your mouth to protest, but then immediately closed it, with a sigh.

There was simply no way to go against Leo when he wanted something and he knew that, if the wicked grin plastered on his face was anything but a sign.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you towards his bed.

“Next time, Honor Roll, you better think twice before ignoring me.” he declared, and you begrudgingly agreed. You had learned it the hardest way.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

W.D.Y.W.F.M (Teaser)

Jungkook could've adopted anybody else, really. He's gotten to know a lot of hybrids left and right during his time at the carecenter and foster homes- low maintenance ones, friendly ones, ones that are easy to be around. So why would he want you?

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Fox Hybrid!Reader, mentions of trauma, Reader isn't cute & cuddly in this at all, manhandling (not the spicy kind), sort of brat-tamer Jungkook but not in the kinky way if that makes sense? More TBA

A/N: so many were upset I'm not writing any more hybrid jk stories so yum yum the appetizer is served hope you're hungry

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"She refused to eat dinner after you left." The careworker tells him as he puts his bag down, and Jungkook lowers his brows in confusion.

"Why?" He wonders, unsure. You're not very attached to him, rarely interact openly with anybody let alone him- and he's realized it might simply be because you don't like him and his rather bubbly personality that much.

"I think it might be self-punishment for what happened yesterday." She sighs, pointing to the large bandaid covering his biceps- your scratch no longer hurting at all, the cover just on it for hygiene's sake. "She feels guilty."

"But it wasn't her fault?" He asks, not sure why you'd take the blame for things so far out of your control. "I knew what I'd potentially get myself into when I offered to bring her back inside- and she didn'tget me that bad anyways." He shrugs, and the worker nods.

"Well, she certainly doesn't see it that way." She says, giving Jungkook his name tag and vest so he can start his last week, cameras at this point no longer really filming much since they've got plenty of content to work with. "You did great, honestly- handled her really well, but she might feel embarrassed now that youve witnessed her outbursts on yourself rather than just from afar." She explains, and he sighs to himself. He instantly searches for you amongst the hybrids, greeting almost everyone fleetingly as his eyes scan the environment.

He spots you sitting in a corner, observing rather than joining in- just like you always do.

"Hey-" he carefully squats down a respectful distance away from you, casually patting his bandaid once he spots you staring at it. "-all by yourself again?" He wonders, and you just shrug.

You dont answer him, crossing your arms instead.

"Heard you skipped dinner yesterday." He asks casually, sitting down now to engage in conversation. He knows that you get antsy when confronted like this- but you have to learn somehow. Everyone just wrapping you in cotton won't help you long term.

"Wasn't hungry." You mumble, avoiding eye contact. Why does he have to talk to you? This is stupid.

"Lie." He chuckles. "You were talking about how much you liked chicken to me yesterday." He calls you out, and you just pull your knees closer to yourself, tail wrapping around them as well. "You didn't hurt me much at all, you know?" He offers softly after some time of just observing you.

"...still." You argue quietly, shaking your head. "Yumi is looking-"

"But I'm talking to you right now." Jungkook disagrees amused, keeping his attention on you. "You're not a bad person." He tells you, and you grow angry suddenly. Not at him- but at yourself, because why are you such a crybaby that you're crying about a simple sentence like that? He probably doesn't even mean it, he just says it for his stupid media-stunt he's pulling. "You wanna go eat breakfast with me?" He wonders, and you shake your head. "Too bad." He chuckles, reaching out his hand to touch your wrist, simply tapping his fingers against it. "Come on, up up, I'm hungry." He says, getting up-

But you don't follow.

"I don't want to." You deny, and he sighs, leaving you be. It's fine like this- you don't need him to play some sort of Savior for you, not at all. He can show off his kindness to his fan base or whatever, you don't really care at all. He's living his life, while you'll live yours- no matter how bland it might be.

A bowl is placed at your feet, another plate with a lot of food placed down as well. "Didn't know what you wanted so-" he explains, before sitting down again in front of you. "-I just got whatever I myself eat." He shrugs casually, starting to grab the first bite.

"Your microphone isn't on." You comment, pointing to the front of his shirt where it would typically sit.

"I know." He simply answers nonchalantly, continuing to eat. You start to lift your hand to bite at your fingers, and he reaches out without fear to gently pull your wrist away from your face, before pointing to the food. "Eat. Or do you want something else?" He wonders, but you shake your head.

You are hungry.

"...'m sorry." You tell him with a crack in your voice, and he nods at you with a smile.

"I know." He answers truthfully, reaching out to tap one of your droopy ears. "But you don't have to be." He shrugs, unknowingly surprising a careworker watching from the sidelines. You're pretty jumpy with contact- you hate fast movements, loud noises, sudden things you're not prepared for. He himself notices as well- the way you flinch on instinct as he reaches out to you.

But you don't immediately try and defend yourself against him, and that's new.

Jungkook has, up until this point, simply never given you any reason to fear him. He's not very careful, very fidgety, and a little loud whenever he gets excited- but he's also gentle, and doesn't hold any bad intentions.

Though that doesn't mean that you trust him- at least not yet.

[cevansbrat0007]

Hey Brit, Happy Valentines Day! 🥰💘

I could totally see Andy’s Baby Girl pulling stunts like this just to wind him up, all leading to a surprise dinner of his favorite treats, or some other really thoughtful gift that almost gets her out of any punishment ☺️ 💝

Passenger Princess

Summary: You decide to embrace your inner-brat when during a boring road trip with your boyfriend, Andy Barber.

Warnings: Shenanigans, Brat!Reader, Jealous/Possessive Andrew Barber, Manhandling, Daddy Kink, Threats of Punishment, Spanking (mentioned), Edging (mentioned), Timeouts (mentioned), Cursing, Confusing Pop Culture References, Minors DNI

A/N: While this story is part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series, it can be read as a standalone. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated.

___

Your eyes slowly open as you pull into a gas station located just off the highway. Sitting up, you stretch your arms above your head, delicately arching your spine until it makes the desired popping sound. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” Andy purrs, his lips curving into a lopsided smile. 

“Mm. Sorry for dozing off like that.” You lean over to press against his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to.” You allow yourself to linger there for a few seconds so you can enjoy the scent of his new aftershave.

Your man always managed to smell so good. 

“S’okay, baby girl. It just means you’re a lousy co-pilot.” He reaches out to gently tweak your nose. “But I think I’m gonna keep you anyways.”

“Ah, well, at least I’m pretty.” You bat your lashes at him knowing that he wouldn’t dare disagree. Andrew Barber was many things, but stupid wasn’t usually one of them. Especially not when you were going to be stuck in the car together for several more hours. “Even if I’m not very dependable.” You finish with a shrug.

Now that remark somehow earns you a kiss. But since you’d been angling for one anyway, you weren’t exactly complaining. A small sigh escapes as his eager tongue brushes past your lips to lazily duel with your own. Eventually you pull away, both breathing hard.   

You were tired of being in the car. You wanted to be home already. Maybe take a shower before cuddling up in bed and throwing on an old movie – and then making love while it played in the background. 

“Want me to run in while you pump gas, Big Man?” You ask, trailing a hand along his bearded cheek. 

“I most certainly do not.” Andy nips at your fingers when they wander too close to his lips. “You are my passenger, pretty lady. Which means all I need you to do is sit tight while I gas up. Won’t take more than a few minutes.” He picks up his phone, scrolling through what you assume must be his music library.  

“You sure? I really don’t mind. I’m up for anything that’ll help us get back on the road faster…” You stare back at him, your eyes bright with hope. 

When your man had invited you along on this little impromptu road trip you’d initially been so excited that you’d forgotten the fact that you detested long car rides.  

“You’re my passenger, princess. You wanna be helpful –” He passes you his phone. “– find a good playlist to get us through the rest of the drive.”

“Okay.” You pout as you accept the device, making a show out of doing what you’re told. You hadn’t exactly been on your best behavior during your journey, and part of you wanted to make up for that. 

“Good girl. Be right back.” 

Andy opens the door and jumps out of the vehicle. You keep pouting as you watch him jog towards the station before disappearing inside. It’s only once you lose sight of him that a cheeky grin flits across your lips. Giggling, you snag your wallet from your purse and dart out of the car and into the summer heat. 

You adjust your dark blue jean shorts, allowing them to ride up just enough to cause trouble before opening up your wallet and quickly fishing out your debit card. Still grinning, you approach the pump and swipe your card. A sneaky glance over your shoulder lets you know that Andy’s is still inside and therefore otherwise occupied. 

Perfect.

So you go ahead and remove the nozzle before inserting it into the tank. After that you select the grade and then you step back to wait for the fireworks.

You were fairly sure that your man was about to have a major fit.

“Hey, pretty lady.” A deep voice calls out from a neighboring fuel pump. “How are you today?” The dark haired man leans against the side of his silver Ford F-150 and cocks his head to the side, studying you. 

“I’m doin’ just fine. How about you?” You respond, flashing him a smile as you watch the numbers climb higher and higher. 

Yep, Andrew Barber was going to blow a gasket when he realized you were paying for his gas. If you were lucky, you might even be able to fill the whole tank by the time he made it back to the car. Now wouldn’t that really be something? God, how you loved being naughty. 

“I’m better now that I’m talkin' to you.” The handsome stranger returns your smile as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “The name’s Carter.”

“Good to know.” If you were being honest, this Carter was pretty easy on the eyes. He appeared to be a few inches taller than Andy, his lanky body packed with lean muscle. 

“You got a name, sweetheart?” Carter scrapes a hand across his jaw, drawing attention to his five-o’clock shadow. “Because I sure would like to know it.” 

“I do.” You tell him, anxiously dancing on your toes as you wait for your boyfriend’s return. “But I also have a man.” 

“Is that right?” Your new friend takes a few strides towards you, his work boots crunching on the pavement. “Can’t be much of a man if you ask me. Not if he’s got you out here in the heat pumping gas while he gets to enjoy the A/C.” He stops a few feet away from you, his gaze straying to the hint of your pink bra that was currently peeking out from beneath your tanktop. 

His words have you biting the inside of your cheek as alarm bells begin to sound. Carter was being a little too bold for your liking. But as with any man, you were more than prepared to set him straight. 

“I do what I want.” You pin him with a hard look, silently daring him to disagree.    

“Oh, I can definitely see that, baby. Believe me.” He purrs, his voice pitched to arouse. At least that’s what you assume he’s trying to do. Not that it was doing any good. For you or him.  

Sorry, fella. But this pussy was off the market, with all rights belonging to a man by the name of Andrew Stephen Barber. And he didn’t strike you as the type who liked to share.

“But if you were mine, I’d treat you right.” He takes another confident step in your direction, his hand going to rest on the still-fueling nozzle. “Swear to God, Princess. I’d see to it that you never had to lift a finger and –” 

Carter abruptly cuts himself off as his focus shifts to whatever is going on somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes widen briefly before he tightens his grip on the handle. Energy crackles through the dry air as you feel a sudden presence at your back – which could only mean one thing. 

Hello, Andy Bear.

“You’d see to it that what?” The sound of your man’s quiet snarl is enough to give you goosebumps. “And who the hell you?” Andy snakes a burly arm around your middle, hauling you against the solid wall of his chest. “Are you – are you pumping my gas, baby girl?”

“Umm…maybe.” Schooling your features, you cast an innocent look up at him. “Hiya, Big Man.” 

“Oh no. No. No. No.” Andy mutters as he gently lifts you off your feet to set you aside. “I can’t believe you’re out here pumping my fucking – and did you pay for my gas too?” He reaches for the handle of the nozzle, using his big body to shoulder Carter out of the way. 

Oh, he was not happy with you one bit. 

“Un-fucking-believable!” Clicking the handle to stem the flow, you watch as Andy yanks it out of the fuel tank. Both he and Carter are forced to jump backwards as gasoline splashes onto the ground near their feet. 

“I was just trying to be helpful!”

Your boyfriend angrily shoves the nozzle back into its slot at the pump. It takes him several tries before he successfully gets it back in the holster. And then he turns his attention to Carter.

“And who the hell are you, my guy?” His Boston accent is thick and pronounced as he leans his arm against the car, effectively blocking you from view. “Better yet, what made you think it was a good idea to park your ass near my car and my woman?”

“Well, I reckon there's nothin’ wrong with making a little friendly conversation with a pretty lady.” Carter shrugs, no longer seeming as intimidated as he was about sixty seconds ago. Although he is smart enough to back away with his palms raised in defeat. “I was just letting her know that she deserves to be treated like the princess that she is.” 

You visibly wince when he tosses a wink your way. If that man wasn’t careful, your Andy Bear was liable to knock that smug grin off his face before either one of you knew what hit him. Literally. 

“Well, I hate to break it to you –” Both men are nose to nose now, their chests practically touching “– but that beautiful woman right there belongs with me. She’s my princess and that’s exactly how it’s gonna stay.” His tone brooks no room for argument as his nostrils flare with impatience. 

Okay. You’d had your fun. Maybe it was time to break this whole thing up.

“Alright, boys. I think that’s enough.” You call out, only to shiver when Andy gifts with his patented steely glare. 

Apparently they weren’t done quite yet. Fuck.

“I think it’s time for my lady and I to get back on the road.” He makes a show of tightening his gas cap before slamming the compartment closed. “That is, unless you’re in the mood to run your mouth some more there, Tex.”

“Fair enough.” Carter grunts after a moment. “Safe travels to you then, princess. Unless you want my number…” He trails off even as he begins moseying over to his truck.

“She doesn’t. Do you, baby girl?” Andy quirks a stubborn brow while he awaits your response.

“I’m good, thanks.” 

For the life of you, you simply could not believe how fast this entire little prank had spiraled out of your control. If you had to point the finger at anyone – and please trust and believe you were going to – it would most certainly be Carter.

Yep. He was definitely the one at fault for this mess.

“Alright.” He dips his head before climbing into his truck and preparing to drive off. “Well then, safe travels to you both I guess.” You both stand there as he guns the engine and speeds out of the lot. 

Leaving you alone with a still very pissed-off Andrew Barber. Aww, crap on a cracker.

“Sweetheart.” Andy growls, scrubbing a hand along his bearded chin. “Could’ve sworn I told your sexy ass to wait for me in the car. Isn’t that what I said?” He pivots on his heel to face you, his blue eyes glittering dangerously. “Hm?”

“Um, yes. But –”

He takes a threatening step towards you, prompting you to take one back. Followed by another, and then another. 

“And what have I told you about trying to pay for shit when you’re out with me?” Andy practically stalks you as you make your way around the vehicle and back to the passenger seat. “And not only that, but you fucking know better than to pump my gas. That’s my job, princess. Mine.” His hands go to your hips, lifting you off your feet once more until you have no choice but to wrap your legs around his trim waist. 

“Mine.” He growls again, his voice gruff. Even as he goes to nip at your jaw. “Just like you’re mine. Every delectable inch of you.” Your man brushes his mouth over yours before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, making you whimper.

Eventually he releases you long enough for his skilled tongue to slide its way past your eager lips so that it can tease your own. Your arms wind their way around his neck, drawing him closer as he fumbles behind you for the handle on the door.

“I’m not happy with you right now, princess.” He groans into the kiss, somehow managing to get the door open. “You’ve misbehaved this entire fucking trip.” Andy pulls away as he lowers you onto the cool leather interior before going to fasten your seatbelt.

You open your mouth, fully prepared to protest – only for the words to get stuck in your throat when you get a look at your man’s face. He really wasn’t happy with you. 

Whoops.

“So far you’ve flashed me – repeatedly, I might add.” He begins listing each of your indiscretions one by one, ticking them off his fingers. “Tried to give me a hand job. And then when that didn’t work, you decided that road head was a better option.”

Any other normal man would have been grateful for the ways in which you had tried to amuse yourself. But not your handsome sourpuss. Oh no.

He blows out a weary breath when all you offer him is a nonchalant shrug for his trouble. “And if that wasn’t enough, you busted out one of your toys that you apparently had hidden in your bag so you could –” 

“Okay! Okay…I’m sorry.” You whine softly as you try to pull him down for another kiss. “It’s not my fault though, Daddy. I told you in the beginning that I didn’t do well with long trips in the car. Plus we were busy all weekend, and you hardly paid me any attention at the hotel. So…” You offer him another delicate shrug.

“So this is all my fault? Is that what I’m hearing from you, little brat?” The look he gives you let’s know that he’s not buying your act in the slightest.

“Yes, Sir.” You bat your lashes at him, even as your hand finds its way to the front of his shorts. “Because like I said, I did try to warn you.” You give him a quick squeeze, enjoying the way his impressive cock twitches in your grasp. 

A low moan reverberates in his chest as Andy works to extricate himself from your hold. “That you did, baby. Which is why I think that it’s only fair to warn you that you’re on track to earn yourself one hell of a spanking when I finally get you home.”

“No!” You squeak as your mind works overtime to conjure up a better argument.

“I’m afraid so.” Andy leans in to peck your lips again before cascading a trail of hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat. “Daddy is fully prepared to light that ass all the way up. Might even put you in a timeout while I figure out the best way to teach your naughty pussy a lesson.” You shiver when you feel his sharp teeth graze the sensitive flesh just above your pulse point. 

"You always seem to listen better when I edge you..." He mumbles, more to himself than you.

But you still vigorously shake your head no as Andy pulls away to shut your door. And then he makes his way to the driver’s side, sliding into his seat as he prepares to resume the next leg of your journey.

“Honestly…what am I going to do with you, little love?” He gifts you with a crooked, albeit mildly exasperated grin.      

“Um, continue to love me? And also maybe be okay with me paying for your gas every once in a while.” You snag his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles.

“Yes to the first.” He affectionately boops your nose before firing the ignition. “And fuck no to the second.”

“Okay, Andy Bear.” You finally relent. Your man wasn’t usually one to bluff, especially in regards to potential punishments. “I’m sorry. For real this time.” Your teeth go to worry your bottom lip as you rest your feet on the dash. 

“Doubtful.” Comes his disbelieving chuckle. “Which is why I won’t be the least bit sorry when I end up turning you over my knee this evening.” 

“But I did a nice thing by paying for your gas!” You exclaim, thunking your fist against the dash for good measure. “And it’s not like I invited that man to talk to me, honey. He just did it!”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I really don't. But since I apparently like the sound of my own voice, I’ll give it one more go.” Andy’s hand finds its rightful place on your upper thigh as he guides the car out of the lot. “You are my passenger, princess. That’s it. And all I need you to do is sit back and keep me company. And maybe behave so that we don’t end up behind bars in some podunk town run by Mayberry PD. You got that?”

You mumble something under your breath, earning you a sharp glance from your man. 

“I couldn’t quite hear that, baby girl. How about you try that again before I’m forced to pull this car over so that we can have a different kind of discussion.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You grumble before turning to stare out the window.

This was going to be a long fucking ride if it meant you couldn’t have any fun. But whatever. You could sit here and play nice with this fucking handsome-ass buttface if you really had to.

“There’s my girl.” Andy sweetly pats your thigh. “Now find us a good playlist so we can go back to enjoying our time on the road. Have you heard of this group called The Weeknd? I think they’re a duo or something. Must be new.”

What in the ever loving fuck? You close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. 

“Oh my god! Please just shoot me now and get it over with.” You mutter through gritted teeth.

“Alright, have it your way." He grabs his phone and unlocks the screen. "Another round of Led Zeppelin it is.”   

END  

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas 2023: Day 9. Missing Star | Alexander/Reader

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

The knocking on the door was incessant, and Alexander rolled his eyes when he heard a voice calling through the door.

“Sir Alexander! The panel started five minutes ago, they’re waiting for you —“

With a huff, he picked himself up from the couch and stomped over to the door, opening it so suddenly he caught the poor event steward on the other side by surprise.

“I’m not bloody coming, clearly,” he hissed.

“But, Mr Dane, the fans are expecting you —“

“I. Don’t. Care. Tell them I’m sick or dying, I don’t care, just piss off and leave me alone!”

He slammed the door closed on the shocked steward’s face, and you peered up at him over the back of the couch.

“That poor steward was only doing his job, Alex.”

Alexander waved his hand dismissively and pulled his robe tighter around his torso.

“If his job’s to disturb me when I’m with you, he needs a new career.”

He returned to the couch where you had previously been cuddling and watching TV, and you slipped easily back into his arms.

“You’ll have to show your face at some point. They didn’t pay for this hotel room so you could sit in it all day.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Alexander snarked, and you shoved him playfully.

“You know I’m not. You can get away with skipping the group panel, but you’ll have to make it to your solo panel. Else they might send Jason to drag you out.”

Alexander scoffed. “I’d like to see him try. He acts like he’s so tough, but I can tell you, his fight scenes are almost entirely done by stunt doubles.”

“And yours aren’t?”

“Of course not,” Alexander said proudly. “I’m a real actor. I do all my own scenes.”

“Well, good thing you do all your own sex scenes too, else we’d never have met,” you said, grinning up at him cheekily.

He smirked and held you in tighter, remembering the day you’d met on set for a film of his, he the lead actor and you the intimacy coordinator for the sex scene he’d filmed. Somehow, with a stunning Hollywood actress nude on the bed with him, it had been plain old you the acting legend had had eyes for.

“Really, I just don’t want to put that bloody thing on my head today,” Alexander admitted. “Honestly, do they think people won’t recognise me without it? I do have other roles I’m known for without the stupid chicken head.”

You laughed, knowing full well that your boyfriend would set fire to that key part of his costume if he could, yet he’d chosen to participate in the Galaxy Quest reboot. Secretly, he liked the role and even the people he worked with, but he’d never admit it.

“Oh, but think of the applause you’ll get when you step out onto the stage! All those people there to see you. I know you love it, Alex.”

He scoffed, but he didn’t correct you. You leaned in closer to him, resting your head on his chest, and he placed a kiss to the top of your head (which had fortunately never been the victim of chicken head, although he had threatened you with it a few times).

“I’ll go to the solo panel, I suppose,” he sighed. “Only so I can talk about Death to Secrets coming out next month.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, good luck getting a bunch of sci-fi nerds to care about a depressing drama about a dying old man. Hey, kids, come see my exciting new film where I spend two hours staring out a window dramatically - ow!”

It hadn’t hurt, but you were more surprised than anything when he reached around and slapped your arse.

“Disrespect my art and you disrespect me, you know that, [Y/n].”

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you said teasingly. You sat up slightly and kissed him, which immediately softened the hard stare he was giving you.

“Hmm… good thing I love you, isn’t it?” he said.

Even after so long together, it still made your heart leap when you heard those words from him. He was such a grumpy old man, yet for you he was soft.

“Yes,” you agreed. “It is a very good thing.”

[eddiernunson]

Found Again | Part 2 | Sequel to Trapped

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: The year is 2005. Vecna is defeated, Steve Harrington is finding grey hairs. Eddie has already been dead for 19 years. Unfortunately, you have too. Since 1989. In a new life, new state, new friends, new school, you find yourself drawn to the new kid, and he to you. Something tells you it had to do with the dreams of a man with long hair when you were small.

Authors Note: To everyone who has read the parts of Trapped to read this, you are wonderful and I appreciate you! So this is the introduction to the character Eddie reincarnates into... and I hope you like him. Also I forgot the tags on the last chapter. I gotta get better at that.

You ran into the gymnasium as Coach Rudy introduces the newest junior year to their upcoming semester, and as it’s the first day of school he seems to ignore your tardiness. You find yourself sitting right next to Kaitlyn, thank god.

“Late already? Aren’t you usually on your best behaviour for the first week or so?” She asks, and yes, unfortunately tardiness is a habit of yours.

You grit your teeth in a smile, itching to tell her all about the mysterious new kid you just saw in the parking lot.

Coach Rudy was in the middle of explaining the introductory 'game' he was about to have you all play, the stupid one where you say your name and a fun fact about yourself, when said mysterious stranger pops into the gym, out of breath.

“Aah, this must be our new student.” Coach exclaimed, holding his hand out and walking towards him quite dramatically. It was a bit over the top, but again, there weren’t a lot of new students in your school. “Here, you can start us off. Introduce yourself, where you’re from, and one fun fact about yourself.”

For the record, where you’re from was only for the new kid. Most of the population of your high school were from here.

“Sorry, couldn’t,” he speaks, and holy hell, it sent shivers down your spine, and you suddenly wanted to spend hours talking to him. “Couldn’t find the gym. My name is Patrick, I’m from Ohio, and I broke my left thumb twice, at the same spot.” He holds out his hand, extending his thumb where you could see a dent on his first knuckle. Your eyes zoom in on it, fixated on him showing his hands.

The moment you had realized you were staring, you blinked away. It felt like slow-motion to you, but it only lasted half a second. You were startlingly aware of how much you wanted to endlessly linger over him without a care and these intense reactions were overwhelming you.

You saw this guy literally only ten minutes ago, get it together, girl!

“Welcome to our school, Patrick. Glad to have you here. Who’s next?” Painstakingly, you all sit in a circle and one at a time the twenty-five of you say your name and a fun fact. Some of them were weird, others were interesting.

Somehow your brain refused to tune in your classmates. How has this person affected you so much, and why does this feeling feel like coming home at the same time?

“Maddie, your turn?” Next to you Kaitlyn lightly bumps into you.

“Oh. I’m Maddie and my mom took me to a psychic when I was four.” It wasn’t exactly unknown; it became your fun-fact when you realized teachers would be pulling this stunt every year. Having known most of your classmates since you were 4, it makes no sense to be experimenting with fun facts when most of them have grown up with you.

“Boo.” Kaitlyn whispers, and you knew why.

Because of all the juicy secrets you have told her over the years, she could never get out of you why you had gone to a psychic. You were keen on not telling, it was nice to have a mystery that people had wanted to know. There were even rumors speculated as to why, none of them true.

The class introduction took the first forty-five minutes of class. The coach insisted that he wanted a judge free place where you’re free to play without judgement of your classmates. As always, Coach Rudy was met with furrowed eyebrows and rolling eyes. As much as he tries, and he truly does, it doesn’t negate that teenagers can be sneaky with their malice.

You had once rolled your eyes at upper classmates who insisted the class wasn’t all what it promised to be. That was when you learned teenage girls have such a quiet way of being cruel.

Turns out, anti-bullying policies are bullshit.

The second half of your class was spent separating into teams for a fun game of dodgeball. Yes, dodgeball. On the first day. At first period. You found yourself on opposing teams to both Kaitlyn and the newcomer your neck couldn’t stop turning back towards.

Rather than allow yourself the embarrassment of being one of the last ones because you didn’t participate then being hit in the face with a ball, you let yourself be one of the first out. You were not about to put yourself through that in front of him.

“Maddie!” Rudy blows his whistle, “more participation!”

You didn’t care if he called you out for not taking part, something Rudy was known to be passionate about. It was a preferable fate.

Turns out, Patrick was fantastic at dodge ball. He dodged effectively, his aim was skillful, and lastly, he didn’t shoot to kill. His shots were kind.

That was what stuck out to you. He had the ball in his court, but it never felt malicious, he was just enjoying the game. Damn this was really attractive, your mouth watering as you watched obsessively.

The bell rings minutes after Patrick hits the final standing on the court, and the other person laughs when he hits them with the ball. Patrick’s joy for the play of the game was contagious and the smile on his face spoke a thousand words. He meets up in the middle when Rudy calls you all over.

As you catch a closer glimpse, his forehead was beaded in sweat, poor kid is going to his first day having sweat everywhere without any gym clothes. You were sure Rudy didn’t think anyone would be that into the game, in fact it might've been the reason he chose this game to begin with.

After the class is dismissed, they all pick up their bags off the floor, something you would usually put in the locker room. Someone stands in your peripherals, clearing their throat to get your attention. You were sure it was Kaitlyn, but unless she has grown six inches over the span of five minutes and cut, curled, and dyed her hair, it wasn’t.

It was Patrick.

“Hey.” He greeted, his face still shiny, his smile contagious.

Your heart skipped a beat.

In fact, you thought it stopped working altogether for a solid minute before your brain even catches up.

“Hi.” You manage out, and your body feels like it’s in a time lock, stuck in place.

“I don’t know this school at all, I thought I’d be able to figure it out, but I was proven very wrong. Can you show me around?” How was this real?

Things like this didn’t just happen.

This literally felt as if the world had delivered him to you on a silver platter. Here you go, you’re welcome.

“Uh, sure. No problem.” You agreed, as if you didn’t spend the entire period staring at him obsessively. “Just one moment, ok?” You hold out a finger, walking slowly towards where Kaitlyn stand in a corner, gesturing wildly and wondering what the hell was going on.

“Ok. I’ll meet you in the hall.” He gestures towards the big doors on the opposite side of the gym, and you nod stiffly in response.

“Uh, did I miss something?” Kaitlyn demands as soon as he’s out of earshot.

The fact that you didn’t get any time to tell her about seeing him by the time he had approached you was almost too much for you to process. “So, I saw him in the parking lot, he showed up about five minutes before the bell, and I was one of the only students there. Maybe he recognized a familiar face?”

“Ok, but this isn't that. Whatever that was between you two, was insane.” She describes it, adjusting the pastel dress she had chosen for the first day. “Seriously. Like, I know you’ve been crushing on him but it’s obvious he likes you back.”

You make a weird face at her, shaking your head in disbelief. “No way. I was staring at him the whole time. He’s just gonna let me down gently.”

“The way he looked at you, no.” Your head shaking continued, insisting that she was delusional. “Whatever. I’m just saying, he literally could’ve just asked to be assigned a student to help him out, but instead he asked you.” She sighs, grabbing the already crumpled up schedule from her bag. “What do you have next?”

“Math.”

“Ew. I have Chemistry.” Damn it.

“I’ll see you later?” You call out as she runs to the opposite door that Patrick did.

“Text me, keep me updated on how it goes!” She shouted and the door shuts behind her.

Your feet suddenly rush to move, realizing you barely had the time to now both show Patrick and get to your class. With your luck he probably got tired of waiting for you and went to someone else for help.

Nope. He was leaning on a locker patiently, and he pushed himself off lightly, hands in his low sitting pocket pants as he walked to you.

Did-did your mouth just water?

“Uh, which class do you have next?” You ask him, suddenly aware you weren’t in class with him anymore, technically it was just you and him with extra people around you.

He pulls out his schedule, folded more neatly than Kaitlyn’s was. “Uh, Math.” He calls out.

You’re stunned into silence. “With Miss. Lipton?” You ask incredulously, and he nods his head quickly to confirm. “Damn. Same class, follow me.”

Ok. Now, this, this right here? Same class? What was this John Cusack bullshit that was happening and when was the other shoe gonna drop?

He follows you down the hall as you give a quick tour to that specific area of the school to which your footsteps covered. There was a fight last year by that trophy case, a teacher was found hooking up with a student under that staircase over a decade ago, and your freshman locker until you reached the room in the nick of time, only a handful of seats left.

Two of them happened to be next to one another, but you start to walk towards the one in the back, any assumptions that might be wrong would kill your insides. As you turn away from his seat he tugs you by a strap hanging from the bag that sits on your shoulder. When you turn back to him confused, he tilts his head to the desk next to him.

And while this had a part of your body floating on air, the other part was sinking via anvil. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was too good to be true. It felt too right, like him asking you to show him around was always gonna happen. You were always going to forget your phone and see him run in late. It just made sense.

Too much sense. This sense of coming home just felt overpowering and it was a terrifying feeling towards someone you had just met.

A crazy part of you, a small boat in the sea of this is weird asked you, ‘If this is too good to be true, would it be so bad to believe in it?’

Nope, too crazy.

You sat next to him, Miss. Lipton welcoming all her students back, wrapped up the conversation she was having with her favoured students when until only minutes after the bell. “Morning, students. Welcome to Algebra II!”

Miss. Lipton is the only teacher that doesn’t want to torture you with the get to know one another game, in fact, she just wanted to get right into the learning and make sure her students knew her expectations. She was kind, but she was brutal when it came to missed assignments and homework.

While you were dreading a full semester starting off with gym and algebra, but if it meant you got to sit next to Patrick, maybe it won’t be so bad.

The only reason you know Ms. Lipton’s rules, is because you’ve heard them said to you twice already.  If this was your first time in her class you would’ve been screwed, your ears muffled like there’s no sound, all too aware of him within arm's reach. God, the three minutes of leading him to the classroom were being played on repeat, speaking to him, his laughter at a sillier expression you had made once announcing the scandal that was Mr. Wes, his easy stride next to yours.

Was your breathing this deep, or did you just think it was?

Miss. Lipton wasted no time, getting right into the first lesson and assigning 12 questions for homework. You were given time in class to work on them, and you’re leant down on your desk, staring hard at a math problem you didn’t even listen to the lesson for.

Oh, sitting next him was gonna be bad for your already mediocre grades.

“Did you get a word of that?” Patrick asks you, leaning towards your desk. You caught sent of his Irish Spring soap, and somehow his freshly showered scent melted you.

“No. My brain is all gooey today.” You state in an even voice, leaning towards neither positive or negative in your tone.

“Summer has a tendency, that’s for sure.” Patrick exclaims, going back in his text to read over the lesson.

Sure. Summer.

You follow his lead, might as well figure out what the hell you missed while you can still ask questions.

As you finally start to grasp the concept the bell rings, and Patrick looks to you expectantly, holding a strap of his bag with an easy smile on his face.

“Alright, what next?” You ask him, and he brings out his chart again.

“I have band, next.” He explains, showing you the timeslot.

You definitely did not have band, not knowing how to play a single instrument. “Well, I’m not in that. Here, I’ll show you.” You start down the hall, and the band room was actually pretty far in the school compared to your gym and algebra.

As you make the second turn down another hallway he asks, “What, no commentary, this time?” And you didn’t know him enough to be sure, but there was something in his voice. You weren’t hopeful enough to think he was flirting.

“Oh, well not much to say in these halls. The mural is redone by different senior every four years, there’s the drama room we do one play per semester, down those halls is our art room, here is the auditorium. Oh. If you pass by the bathroom at the end of this hall,” you point at it, “don’t use it. It reeks because the stoners took control of it last year.”

“Didn’t the teachers do anything?”

“You think they didn’t try? Because these kids did everything to dodge them. Kinda like you in gym today, you overachiever.” Was that…flirting?

“Hey, dodgeball is fun when you play it right.” He claims, and he was apparently right.

You stop in front of some open and painted double doors. “Ok, this is your stop.” He looks up at the doors, and you wondered if they were intimidating to you, how bad would they be to him? “What instrument do you play?” You ask, trying to cut his nervousness.

“Uh, bass.” He answers, pretending to do the double pluck that bass players are so known for.

“Electric, or—”

“Electric.” He interrupts you, dismissing the thought of him playing the double bass.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.” You tell him, patting his shoulder lightly. Your brain malfunctions in the middle of the pat, wondering just what the hell did you think you were doing.

You freeze on the spot, muttering a goodbye as you walk away as you felt overwhelmed. At least English would be simple.

-

English was not simple. The first book of the semester, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde turned out to have so much illusion to imagery to describe a single sentence you were bored to tears by the second page. You understood none of what was happening, feeling less dumb when multiple classmates also had questions.

The bell rung, signifying lunch time. You sat with your food alone waiting for Kaitlyn when the seat next to you is filled by Patrick.

This boy is literally enabling your fixation on him. One part of you wanted to tell him to run from you, because you were unhealthily obsessed with him, and you only met him hours ago.

The other side wanted to beg him to continue, because it gave you the delusion that this might not have been one-sided.

“How was band?” You ask him, the Irish Spring soap hitting your nose sweetly again.

“It was lame.” He responds, opening up his bag of chips on the tray. “We didn’t really get to play much, and it was just some introductory talks. I do music theory on the weekends, so it was basic knowledge. Dunno, felt like Junior High band than High School. What class did you go to?”

That was certainly a critique. And while you were no means an arts school, the drama program you had was nothing to laugh at. Maybe the band class wasn’t up to par with the drama program.

However, you’re now fixed on the idea that he also wanted to know how your class went, too.

“English. I usually love this class but the book she introduced us to was stupidly hard.” You complained and suddenly Kaitlyn pops down next to you.

“I warned you that she’s a villain.” She claims, laughing as you finally discover the true nature of the infamously tough English teacher that was Mrs. Van Heerde. “She’s that intense all year long, by the way. You get used to it within the first week.”

“Do we have any other classes together, or will we be just tortured together during PE all semester?” You ask, yanking out your ever-folded schedule.

The two of you compare, and you have your last class of the day together, Anthropology.

“Hey me too.” Patrick comments, already putting his schedule back in his pocket.

Kaitlyn side eyes you, nodding towards Patrick pointedly with her head. You wish you could express every thought you’ve been thinking, but the fact that it’s stopped by his mere presence is a gift you could never have predicted. She leans forward onto her elbows towards him, a devilish glint in her eye. “So what’s Ohio like?”

“Boring.” Patrick deadpans to her, mouth still chewing as he said it. “Nothing happens there.”

“Why’d you move here? No offense, but nothing happens here either.” You laugh, leaning back in your chair.

Your small town was made of only one high school, and the town had major meetings in which the smallest of squanders were battled out by the leaders. What squanders were so important to gather (most of) the town’s population you might ask?

New library signs. Where to place wheelchair accessible ramps on old buildings.

Stars Hallow was very reminiscent of your town, without all the romanticization of it.

“Dad’s job moved him.” Patrick answers, lips pursed as if he was considering his opinion on being moved going into his second last year of high school.

“To here? Of all places?” Kaitlyn asks, her eyebrows raised up to her honey blonde bangs.

Patrick laughs silently, nodding solemnly in response.

“So why did your mom bring you to a psychic when you were so young?” Patrick asks, taking a sip and your mind is captivated by his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You never realized it was so prominent.

“You won’t get an answer out of her.” Kaitlyn answers when she realizes you were preoccupied. “I’ve tried for years, and nothing.”

“Why not?” Patrick asks, the question directed towards you.

His brown eyes look into yours, and without either of your food to distract you anymore they were so captivating. “I like to have a little mystery in a town where everyone knows everything.”

“Do you even know why she took you?” Patrick challenged you, his eyebrows tilted.

“Yep. I could tell you vividly why she took me.” You pause, leaning over to your bestfriend to tease her. “But I won’t. I let this one fact fester for years so the real thing will not live up to the hype. I guarantee it.”

There’s something behind his eyes that you couldn’t place, an unsaid sentence in his brain. You wanted to be brave and ask what was on his mind, but, then again you were only his tour guide. Tomorrow he’ll be hanging with some people he actually liked.

The air as tense as you thought it was, Kaitlyn switching her glance between the two of you as an unspoken sentence seems to be exchanged. Not that either of you were aware of the sentence, but Kaitlyn was, even if she didn’t know what it meant.

Patrick wondered if you were feeling any bit of as intense as you were towards him as he did about you. Why was he so drawn to you? Why did not knowing about this story of the psychic drive him so crazy?

You wondered why you had the sudden urge to tell Patrick a story that you had stored away in a safe. How was he not freaked out by the sheer intensity of how much you’ve been staring at him all day?

Kaitlyn just wanted to know when the two of you would get a grip and just admit you were into one another. Patrick was cute, and by the reactions of the girls in the classes without you, also desired. However the general consensus is that the two of you were into one another, and anyone with eyes could see it.

Anyone but the two of you, at least.

“Alright I gotta jet. I’ll see you both in Anthropology, I guess.” Kaitlyn walks off, shaking her head in exasperation. One day when the fog settled you’d be able to have a conversation again.

Hopefully.

-

After you dropped Patrick off at his second last class, you were able to show him the classroom for Anthropology, which so happened to be diagonally across the hall. He thanked you graciously for showing him around, and you had to fight back insisting that the pleasure was all yours, you got to look at him all day.

Now you walked into the classroom, seeing the desk layout as both Kaitlyn and Patrick had already seated, with a seat between them you supposed was meant for you. You walked to the seat, and they were already in the middle of a conversation.

“No, I swear to god, you should’ve seen her reaction.” Kaitlyn insists, and you’ve got a bad feeling you were the her she was talking about.

Patrick lets out a light laugh, and his smile brightens up the room.

At least, to you it did.

“I’m not even going to ask.” You claim, shaking your head in contentment. Contentment? Why were you content?

“Oh, I'm telling him about the time-”

“Nope. Don’t want to know.”

“Fine.” Kaitlyn lets you be stubborn, raising her hands up in surrender.

You stare straight ahead to the whiteboard ahead of you, refusing to look Patrick in the eye and give in to Kaitlyn’s little game. You knew, as well as she did, that the moment you looked at him and the spark in his eyes you would want to know what story Kaitlyn was telling him.

The possibilities were endless.

Anthropology was as interesting as you hoped it was, picking it based on liking social studies more around the study of how people lived. At the end of the class the teacher Mr. Sullivan assigned a project that was due towards two weeks.

It was a long project that required days of working together, a study on different tribes in East Africa. It involved basic research, a visual and oral presentation with an artifact that represents the tribe as a whole.

It was a long project, something that earned a groan as he handed the assignment out.

Mr. Sullivan didn’t care, telling you to partner up with whoever.

Kaitlyn, ever a sweetheart, knew what you were going to say before you even say it. “Hey, I’m gonna partner with Lacey, her whole thing is research projects. You should go with Patrick.” Very subtle, Kaitlyn. Very subtle.

You take out your flip phone, texting her under the table as you turn to your right towards Patrick.

UR THE BEST

The sound of her phone flipping shut is the signal that she has received it, and she simply just says, “I know.”

You gulp, facing towards Patrick. “So, partners?” You ask delicately, ready for any rejection.

He keeps surprising you. “Cool.”

As if on que the bell rings, and you find yourself walking with Patrick to your car. He was, after all, parked right next to it. In fact, you found yourselves in between his van and your car and the air is so much thicker than when you saw him that morning.

After the miracle of being in the same gym class as him you had expected your only interactions with him to be limited and one-sided. Patrick outright asking you if you would show him around stunted your perception, and you found your luck growing throughout the day.

You look up at him, and nothing in his face is giving him away, the sweater open to reveal he wore an MCR shirt but the baseball cap on his dashboard surprising you.

As vehicles started to leave the lot, still much unsaid, you were about to turn to your own vehicle to reminisce your world-wind first day when an electric shock surges through you as he grabs your hand to stop you. You freeze, staring at it.

You turn back to face him, questioning the grab.

“Can I say something crazy?” He asks you, his voice low and vulnerable.

Crazy seemed good. You nod, because even if crazy didn’t seem good, you’d be willing to listen to him talk about snails if it meant you didn’t have to leave him yet.

“I have spent all day wanting to kiss you. From the moment I saw you, it’s like this…” he looks down, frustrated, looking for the right word.

“A need.” You offer for him.

He smiles, nodding.

“It’s not crazy, because I’ve been feeling the same way.” You respond, the sentence escaping your throat before you could stop it.

Patrick takes this as a go-ahead, walking two strides before his hands frame your face and his lips are on yours. It sounded crazy, but it was like it was coming home. His lips felt familiar, and a tear was already down your cheek before you had processed this emotion. Like something you were missing has been found.

Like you found him and you didn’t even know you were looking.

Patrick connects his forehead to yours, your heavy breaths loud in the silence surrounding you both. You allow yourself to sit in the silence, until Patrick insists you join him in his van so you could finally talk it out.

Because, it was odd, but it felt like this should’ve been happening. Like you going home instead of kissing him would’ve been the wrong choice.

You climb into his passenger seat, feeling strangely safe as you glance around for hidden details about him.

“So.” Patrick starts, leaning on his steering wheel as he talked to you.

“So.”

“You’ve been feeling it?”

“Since the moment I saw you. I thought I was going insane with how much I stared at you in gym this morning. I thought you were going to tell me to stop stalking you.” You confessed, the openness of it refreshing.

“I was actually showing off.” He replied, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. “My mind kept telling me that you didn’t care and to stop but there was something that told me not to let you go too far, which is why I requested you to show me around.”

“Do you think all people feel drawn to one another like this?” You asked him, keenly aware of the feeling of a magnet that’s been pulling you to him.

Patrick shakes his head, “I’ve never felt anything this strong. This is something else.”

“This is insane. I know nothing about you, but I had this need to be near you all day. I know you’re athletic. I know you play the bass. I know you listen to My Chemical Romance. That’s it. But. Kissing you, is like—"

“Relief.” He interrupts you, understanding everything of what you were talking about. “You’re saying we don’t know one another very well, so tell me the one thing you refuse to tell everyone else. Tell me about the psychic.”

You blink, and the inkling that this had something to do with her was all too much all day. “Did that story intrigue you because I refused to tell it, or because of the psychic?”

“The psychic.”

You knew it. “I used to dream about someone. He was from a long time ago, before we were born, and when I woke up, I talked about him and how much I missed him. My mom took me to the psychic because apparently my details about him were consistent enough to make her raise some questions.”

“What happened?”

“I actually never found out, but the psychic believed me. And there was something, in my little brain that thought she was the real thing. I remember thinking that because that thought is my first memory.”

“I never told anyone else before, because my mom just dismissed it as childish stories, but I used to dream about a girl. I didn’t know much about her, other than she was a light in the darkness. Her laugh, her hugs, when she came into the dream everything was amazing. Then these…” his face grimaces, and you could tell it also became nightmares for him, too. “These cracks would echo in my brain; I think they were bones. I don’t know much after that; they all blend but I will never get that sound out of my head.”

Patrick places the baseball cap on his head backwards, sliding down in his driver’s seat.

“This can’t be a coincidence.” You start, his dreams making sense yet being mind blowing at the same time. “Are you up for something crazy?”

“This already feels insanely crazy, what do you got?” Patrick answers, one hand clutching onto his steering wheel.

“When I went I told her about my dreams, she hired a Private Investigator to look for answers on the person I dreamt about. She said as a four-year-old I’ve given her enough consistent information that if the person I dreamed about was real, then she would get answers.” You pause, letting Patrick soak it in.

Patrick laughs, closed mouthed as if the insanity of the circumstances finally caught up to him. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

-

I love reading comments in tags and replies, and as always, reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on here <3 Thanks for reading!

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore

[sinisterexaggerator]

Headcanon, because I am an angsty bitch.

Thinking about Jango x Cad a bit. I have a lot of ideas stewing, but one in particular addresses Todo 360's role in Cad Bane's life after the death of Jango Fett.

I have thoughts about them, many thoughts. To shorten my perspective, he was mentor (canon), partner, business associate, and lover to Cad Bane.

I see them together in his early years as a hunter. They were most likely in competition with each other. Maybe Fett passed down a few tips and tricks. I am foreseeing enemies to lovers and a bit of a brat-taming scenario here.

Cad had a temper. Imagine what he was like in his youth. He was pretty feisty in the Clone Wars. I like to think about what he was like when he was first starting out and trying to prove himself.

I also like to imagine the homelife he had back on Duro, living in the ghetto, and how that helped to shape his personality and most likely gave him a warped sense of reality where he constantly feels the need to horde his wealth for a rainy day, maybe, or maybe he gets a taste of the good life and winds up blowing it every which way to the wind, thus the need for a constant supply of credits. But, I digress.

He rarely trusts anyone, for starters. To let Fett in is to drop his guard. I think Cad might even grow to love him in his own way, though perhaps it is never voiced out loud.

Maybe Jango feels a little of the same, but maybe the "clone contract" causes a rift in their relationship. I don't see Bane being fine with a million of his favorite person out wandering about. It's unethical, it's weird, it doesn't make sense. He gets the money aspect, but he's offput.

I see them having a falling out. Maybe Jango wanted the money to lead a good life, a simple life, with his son. Maybe he thought Bane might be a part of it. Bane resents Boba. The man had a kid without telling him, and worse yet, a genetic clone in some weird science experiment that gives him the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it, and now there's a whole army of them!

Worst comes to worst. Jango's off his game. He dies. Cad finds out, never having closure, never getting to say sorry, never getting to say goodbye, and now he has to come to terms with the fact his lover's face is millions strong all across the galaxy. Talk about PTSD.

He can hardly take it; he kills them every chance he gets. He knows how they operate; he knew how Jango operated. He takes trophies, helmets. "Once ye figure one out, de rest are easy."

He finds Todo, buys him, acquires him somehow. I have not yet decided. Part of me wants to say he was in a dumpster and he fixes him up for this one job, but the droid takes to him.

The little shit comes back. He's loyal. He's there for him. He doesn't mind he's a grump. He provides conversation; stimulation in the otherwise solitary hours he spends in space. He becomes a comfort, someone to talk to, someone to fill the void that Jango left behind.

He tries to mentor Boba. He means well, he just can't bring himself to do it. He drinks himself stupid and pulls one crazy stunt too many and Boba is done. They have their duel.

Maybe Bane harbors regrets. He owed Jango this one favor; do right by his kid, and he can't even do that.

Maybe Bane's depressed. Todo 360 helps him alleviate his ails. He's his "most trusted confidant."

.

.

.

Anyway, this is the direction my fic is going.

[knaccblog]

Until The End

Fandom: Buddy Daddies Pairing: Kazuki/Rei Also on AO3

Summary: Rei doesn't know what to do about Kazuki. Set immediately after Episode 10.

They ride home in silence. Rei usually doesn't mind it, generally prefers it even but right now, it feels wrong somehow, full of something that he can't quite put his finger on. He nearly opens his mouth a few times (to say what exactly, he doesn't know) but always decides better of it. Kazuki is the talker. If he wanted to, they'd be talking, Rei decides. 

They get home and Rei still hasn't figured out what to do, if he should even be trying to do something at all, when Kazuki suddenly says, "I'm just gonna… go to bed." Sharp and sudden, like a gunshot. 

Rei watches him go. That's probably a good idea for him. Better than the alternatives. Rei, for his part though, has no intention of going to sleep. He can't think of any better way to spend this night than a gaming marathon. He's been so busy recently, he's barely gotten to crack into that massive RPG he'd bought a few months ago. 

He's just settling in, starting to get a handle of the rhythm of the combat when he hears a sudden, sharp noise. In an instant, he's jumped over the back the couch, gun at the ready as he starts to survey the area. Living room: clear. He dashes to the kitchen entrance and cuts the pie down the hallway. No obvious signs of entry. He thinks about the sound again. It had sounded like it came from upstairs really. Like he's on cue, Kazuki cries out, cursing. That's Miri's room! 

Rei dashes up the stairs and bursts open the door. He has just enough time to think, this is stupid, you know better than this, before his eyes take in the entire small room and see that there is no one in there but Kazuki. It looks like a poster frame had just fallen off the wall and shattered. 

He lowers his gun and sighs. Someday, he's going to get punished for stunts like that, but not today at least.

He looks at Kazuki and he's sitting on Miri's bed, surrounded by boxes and piles of clothes. 

Rei's stomach sinks. "What are you doing?"

Kazuki just shrugs. "It would be a waste for us to just toss all this stuff so I'm packing it up to send to Misaki." He smiles sadly down at the shirt he's currently holding. It had been one of her favorites. "Maybe Miri will even like to see some of her things again, ya know? Remind her of the good times?"

Rei can see the tears starting to well up in Kazuki's eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat. "Stop it."

"Stop what? I'm just being practical."

Rei growls. "Stop doing this right now. You're being stupid."

"It's not gonna change, Rei. You know that right? She's gone and it's the best thing we ever did for her-"

"Shut up," Rei says, surging forward and dropping his gun to grab the front of Kazuki's shirt, forcing him to look up at him.

"She's not coming back," Kazuki says, voice cracking a little, raw and broken. 

"I know," Rei shouts. He looks at Kazuki's face and says quieter, "I know. But you're still just-" He growls as he gestures at the boxes with his free hand. Ahhh fuck it, he thinks and pulls Kazuki up and into his arms, determined to make him stop doing this by any means necessary. "Don't do this right now, alright?" 

Kazuki stiffens instantly, shocked as the shirts on his lap tumble to the ground. 

Rei just squeezes harder, desperate to get his meaning across. After a moment, Kazuki starts to deflate, all his sharp edges melting at once. 

"Alright, alright," Kazuki says, dropping the last shirt in his hand and wrapping his arms around Rei in return. His voice is soft, like he's the one comforting Rei but as he grips the back of Rei's shirt tightly, Rei can feel his tears in his shoulder. 

They stay like that for a while, with Kazuki crying and Rei rubbing circles into his back. And Rei isn't used to stuff like this but his chest feels warm and tight and good as Kazuki leans into him, arms tight around Rei, trusting him with his whole weight. This is nice. They should do this more. 

Kazuki eventually sniffles loudly and starts to pull away, laughing as he says, "Boy, I'm a mess, aren't I?" 

Rei stops him before he can pull all the way away, reaching up with one hand to wipe at his tears. "Yeah," he says, before leaving his hand on Kazuki's cheek. He likes it there, he decides. 

"Rei?" Kazuki looks confused but he leans his check into the touch. 

Rei rubs that cheek with his thumb and then leans his forehead against Kazuki's. This feels right too. "Kazuki, I-" He doesn't know what he'd intended to say, can just feel himself getting closer and closer. And Kazuki is leaning in too, nearly there when suddenly, Rei is being pushed away again. 

"Come on Rei, not now." Kazuki frowns. "Don't you remember what I said before?"

Rei tilts his head as he tries to think, his thoughts slow like mud. He's pretty sure that they hadn't talked about anything like this, had been avoiding the ever growing… thing between them like the plague. Rei frowns. "No." 

Kazuki sighs. "I said don't take people into your life if you aren't going to stick around until the very end. We can't just," he gestures between them, "hook up and then forget it." He looks down at his feet and then says quietly, "Or atleast I can't. Not with you." 

He looks back up at Rei and his face is now a pleasant mask but it's still a bit wet from before. "I know we're both upset about... what just happened but this isn't the solution, alright?"

Rei grimaces and looks away. All this is too complicated for him. He's not made for stuff like this, he's certain.

He knows objectively that he's almost out of time. That the boss wants him back and running the business. That his time with these people should be coming to an end. But whenever he thinks about it, saying goodbye forever, he feels like his stomach is falling out. It's too late for Miri, she's… gone  and it's for the best, right? Their jobs are just too dangerous. 

But Kazuki isn't different from him. He's just as unsafe, just as much of a killer. Surely if Rei's careful, if he does this right, he doesn't have to lose them both? Rei feels his chest clench painfully. Maybe he can just hide Kazuki until he's in charge? Or hell, Kazuki always loves a big, elaborate (stupid) plan, maybe if Rei tells him what's going on, he'll know what to do, what would be the best way to deal with the boss for good. Either way, he and Kazuki can do this, can keep being dangerous, horrible people together until this life kills them. He'll make sure of it. He has to. "Who says I won't?"

Kazuki turns to look at him, eyes wet and confusion painted across his face. "What?"

Rei meets his eyes. "I'll stick with you until the end."

Kazuki's eyes light up. "What? R-really?"

"Sure." Rei nods.

Kazuki chuckles nervously. "Not giving me a lot of confidence here, Rei," he singsongs but the corners of his lips are starting to turn up.

Rei frowns a little and then reaches up to cup Kazuki's wet face again, his thumb wiping at his tears. "I'm picking you, alright? What more do you want from me?"

The smile that had been threatening to appear finally breaks across Kazuki's face and suddenly he's beaming at Rei. He laughs. "Fuck, you're the worst at this. I can't believe I'm in love with you. I have literally the worst taste in men."

Rei starts a little. In love. Rei hadn't said it, hadn't even wanted to think about it but there is was. The cold truth. The big unspoken thing that had been slowly unfurling between them. He wants to push it away but he knows it's too late, that he's probably been in love for awhile if he really thought about it. I mean hell, he'd just tried to kiss Kazuki and then promised to stay with him forever. That's gotta be love right? Maybe Kazuki is right that he's an idiot. He sighs.  "Like my taste is any better."

"Oy, don't ruin this any more than you already have," Kazuki grouches but he's still smiling.  "Come on, just get over here and kiss me already, will ya? We'll work on learning how to talk about our feelings later."

Rei rolls his eyes but then he looks at Kazuki and he's all soft and warm and radiating something (probably love) and it makes Rei's chest warm and tight and maybe feel like he's drowning just a little bit but in a good way. And he can't help but smile back before finally leaning in for a kiss.

AN: So yeah I desperately needed this in the aftermath of episode 10. I literally cried just like straight through the episode, it was rough! Sorry it took me so long to get this out; I wrote most of it immediately after I watched the episode and then fought my executive dysfunction for days before I could finish it. Believe me that if I kept writing this, they would eventually figure out how to get Miri back! It's not that she doesn't matter to them, it's that they think that situation is hopeless and are thinking this whole situation might also mean the end of them being together too which is just like more than either of them can handle ; _ ; 

Also hello to anyone who follows this account/has chatted with me in the past! I’m not dead and someday hope to write even more fanfic so yeah, maybe I’ll be around more someday if any of my big projects ever pull together!

[inevitableinfinity]

oikage bodyguard AU | 750 words | cw: minor usage of guns, non-explicit violence | originally posted here

-

He doesn't even think. 

His body moves on its own—not instinctive, more reflexive—like even if his mind tried to protest, it would be futile. 

He sees the shape of the weapon and hears the click so distinctly as if his ears are somehow attuned to danger. Or attuned to a specific person in danger. 

He doesn't think. 

He’s moving, hurtling across some rift between time and space, consciousness and thought, with no other desire but to be faster than a bullet. 

Some voice shouts, “No!” and he isn’t sure if it’s his or someone else’s. 

A body slams into his, mid-flight, and they both tumble to the ground as the bang goes off and Tobio has the air knocked out of him—which, he supposes, is preferable to having life leave him. 

In his slow-motion thoughts that are only a few seconds in reality, he watches as the attacker is apprehended and disarmed, courtesy of the rest of his security team. He tries to sit up, but Oikawa won’t let him, not until the team has surveyed the area and confirmed there are no other threats. 

They’re quiet on the ride back to Tobio’s place. Still, the tension is palpable, and he can tell that Oikawa’s anger is simmering just below the surface, that he’s only holding it together because he doesn’t want to yell at Tobio in front of the driver. 

He’s right. As soon as they’re safely inside, Oikawa lets him have it. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I just—”

“What kind of stunt was that? I know you’re not the brightest, Tobio-chan, but jumping into the line of danger is stupid by every definition of the word.”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“That,” his bodyguard sniffs, “was obvious.” 

“He was aiming for you!” Tobio defends himself weakly.

Oikawa shoots him a look that is both disbelieving and wholly incredulous. “No, he was aiming for you, you idiot.” 

Logically, Tobio knows this is the most probable case. “But—”

“And even if he was aiming for me, why would you move?”

“I just—”

“You just what?” Oikawa’s tone is both mocking and challenging as if Tobio can’t possibly say something to justify his actions. And maybe he can’t. But—

Tobio swallows. “I couldn’t lose you too.” 

For his safety and theirs, Tobio has generally kept himself isolated, losing people just after they become important enough to miss. Everyone leaves or is removed. That is how it must be.

Everyone except for one person. 

And though they don’t always see eye-to-eye and Tobio would sometimes prefer a less provoking and condescending companion, Oikawa has always been there. A reassuringly familiar presence in the midst of neverending turmoil.

There’s a pause, a long pause, and then Oikawa sighs. “You know what my job is, right?” 

Tobio nods. “You’re a—my bodyguard.”

“Just what do you think happens if a client takes a bullet for a bodyguard?”

Tobio averts his eyes. 

“It is my job to keep you safe, not vice versa. I’m the one in the bulletproof vest. I’m the one with the years of training. Not you.” He pokes Tobio’s shoulder a little too hard and Tobio tries not to wince.

“So don’t pull that shit ever again, you hear me?” It’s clear the question is rhetorical, but Tobio gives a single, jerky nod of acknowledgment. “And besides, what do you think would happen to me?”

“You'd lose your job,” Tobio replies dully. There’s a bitter aftertaste as the words leave his mouth. 

Oikawa snorts. “Right,” he agrees, voice dripping in sarcasm. “If my client’s dead, I’d need to find more work.” He shakes his head. “No, Tobio, what do you think would happen to me?”

Tobio blinks. “You’re a great bodyguard,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find a...new...” He falters at the affronted expression on the other man’s face.

“You think after all these years, it’d be fine if that happened? That I could just leave and—” He cuts himself off, but Tobio hears the way the last word cracks. 

“I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better listen.” His voice is low, and Tobio looks up to meet an uncharacteristically serious Oikawa. “As a person, not as your bodyguard, I’m telling you not to put yourself in danger for me.”

Still holding his gaze, Oikawa takes a few seconds before speaking again. “What I’m saying, Tobio,” Oikawa takes a small step toward him, hand ghosting his shoulder before falling back, “is I can’t lose you either.”

[luvvsoft]

I hope this message finds you before I do 💌

n e wais, my demands are as follows. (If you don't comply I will leak ur address on this god forsaken app. DONT MAKE ME DO IT u cacaracha de cocina económica)

I DEMAND a fic where reader is older than gojo & he does silly things like:

buy her VERY expensive gifts to earn her love (don't u dare go cheap on me. I wanna see Chanel and all that shit. Everyone knows Gojo is sugar daddy material)

learn what her favorite songs are so he can "unsuspectingly" play them during their car rides.

just basically the shit u be doing for ur men fr (being delusional)

But the catch is reader doesn't see him like that bc he's younger, yet, he keeps doing everything in his power to make her see him in a different light (as in, see him romantically and not just as her "little brother")

make it so fluffy my teeth rot and I have to get them extracted immediately fr

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

contains: tooth rooting fluff, age gap, lots of spoiling, some violence

word count: 2.1k

Sigh.

Gojo was at it again. You could tell as soon as you opened the door to your apartment.

One thing you didn’t expect to see when you got home was Sephora bags on your counter. You should have come to expect it though; that’s just how Gojo was. You show the slightest interest in a product and he immediately buys it, thinking it’ll somehow make you fall in love with him.

Another sigh escaped your lips.

How were you to deal with his non-stop barrage of affection and gifts?

You opted to set your work bag down and instead focused on the multitude of bags in front of you. Slightly peeking into them, you were greeted by Charlotte Tilbury products, specifically the blush you had been talking to Gojo about for weeks. Of course that wasn’t the only thing he bought. Gojo was anything but cheap.

He’d bought you every new cosmetic product in the store. The amount was absolutely ridiculous; there was no way you’d be able to use all of them before they expired.

Your phone ringed in your pocket, prompting you to pick it up. Of course Gojo was calling you after the stunt he pulled.

“What?” you answered.

“What’s with the hostility, sweetheart? I take it you saw the gifts I left you?” You weren’t face to face with the man, but you could vividly imagine the shit-eating grin on his face when he answered.

You leave his words hanging in the air, a deadpan expression on your face from how irritable he was being. The silence was comforting until it was broken by his vexing voice once more.

“Don’t I at least get a thank you?”

“You’re an idiot. Why would you spend so much money on stuff I’ll never get around to using?”

Gojo leaned back on his chair on the other side of the call, kicking his feet up on his desk as he reached out for the framed photograph he had of you. His thumb caressed your cheek — wishing it was the real thing instead.

“Hmm, I dunno,” He murmurs, setting the picture down. “Maybe I want you to use it for our date? If you’ll ever accept to one, that is.”

You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache form. You hung up on him after turning down his date proposal for the thousandth time.

“Stupid Gojo with his stupid schemes,” you whispered. Despite your words, you couldn’t help but let a tiny smile pull at your lips.

“This is stupid,” you said as you got in Gojo’s car.

“Tell that to your broken down car,” said the man who you suspected was behind your slashed tires.

‘It wasn’t him though! he insisted.’ You didn’t trust that. How else would your tires end up slashed while you were in the middle of work?

You turned away from him, sighing and deciding to instead look out the window, “Whatever, just take me home.”

Gojo could tell you were down in the dumps; he knew you had worked hard for that car, and it meant a lot to you, despite the fact that he was willing to buy you another one.

He frowned slightly before turning the radio on and connecting it to his phone.

The sudden noise startled you, “What are you doing?”

As he typed away on his phone, you assumed he was texting a girl, maybe his newest piece. It was typical behavior of someone his age. What you didn’t expect was for your favorite song to come on.

The melody lifted your mood a bit, it was relaxing. You even moved to the music. The lyrics resonated within you, pulling you out of your contemplation.

Gojo smiled at your mood changing — he could bear having to listen to your song choices, but he just couldn’t bear seeing your melancholic face as tears welled up in your starry eyes.

He was glad he had snooped through your spotify now.

Sundays were what you dubbed the “best day of the week.”

You finally had a chance to relax and unload from all your workload. Sundays were days you spent in bed just a little longer, only getting up around 10 am. They were also when you brewed a warm coffee and sat down near a candle while reading your newest favorite book.

Sundays felt homey, something that you didn’t feel throughout the week when you had to wake up early and work long hours.

You hummed as you took a sip of coffe — it was just perfect. Today was perfect: no work to do, no one to bother you, nothing to do.

You thought your day would be peaceful and quiet until you got a knock at the door. Getting up to answer, you already had a slight nklinginkling of who it was. Nevertheless, you found yourself opening the door and of course, it was Gojo Satoru in the flesh.

“Hell—“

You didnt give him a chance to finish and instead slammed the door in his face. ‘Not today,’ you thought as you closed your eyes and wished him being at your doorstep was a hallucination.

Instead of your wish being granted and you ending up drinking your coffee peacefully, you got another knock at the door.

You sighed, “Guess there’s no escaping this.”

Gojo wore a bright, blinding smile as you opened the door, “I knew you wouldn’t leave little old me at the door hanging!”

“Gojo, why are you at my door this early in the morning?”

“It’s,” he paused to take a look at his watch before continuing, “11:34 in the morning. I think I’m late, actually.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“Quite the lazy one aren’t you? Anyway, I brought peace offerings,” Gojo said as he held up the bags of takeout, IHop specifically; he knew it was your weakness. “I knew you wouldn’t let me in if I came empty handed.”

You smiled at the sight of food, ignoring how your mouth instantly watered, “Hm, I guess you can come in.” You pushed open your door wider, stepping to the side so he’d walk in.

Gojo donned his signature smile as he strutted into your place like he owned it. Even if he’d been here before, he could never stop admiring the place. It felt like home — a home he wished he shared with you.

“Don’t go snooping through my things again. I know you were looking for my family album last time,” you said with a glare as you walked towards the kitchen.

“Can’t a man be curious about his future in-laws?” The white-haired sorcerer sat down the food, quickly distracting you from his comment so you wouldn’t shut down his hopes and dreams. “Tada! I got you your favorite pancakes.”

“Thanks,” you said as you started digging in.

Gojo couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the way you hungrily wolfed down the pancakes — he almost felt bad for them.

“So, Yaga wants you to go on a mission with the new students.”

You stopped chewing midway at his words and sighed, “Is this why you came? To sweeten me up into accepting?” You muttered with half of your pancake sticking out of your mouth, your words almost incomprehensible to Gojo.

“Come on, do it for me?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you stood up and started walking away, “You can leave now.”

A frown pulled at Gojo’s pink lips, he knew you didn’t like the Jujutsu world and how unfair they were, but with the recent curse activity, he was needed elsewhere and you were the only one who he trusted to go with the students he cherished.

Nanami had already said no. Gojo feared you would too, but you loved the students too much to say no. He almost felt envious of how much you doted on them, wishing it was him instead.

He stood up, walking over to you. He tilted your chin upwards to look at him, even if he knew you didn’t want to. “I know you’re not too fond of our line of work, but you’re the only one I can trust.”

You had no choice but to look into his perfectly crafted blue eyes, how they were slowly but surely becoming your weakness. Stupid Gojo with his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid honey words.

Your resolve melted away almost instantly. “Fine.” You pulled away, “Just send over the details for the mission.”

You knew the mission was happening soon, just not this soon.

‘Curse you, Gojo,’ you thought as you looked at your text messages with him.

Pain in my ass: Just hang on, it’ll only be for a few hours >:)

He messaged you, while surely spending an absurd amount of money on sweets on the other side of the world.

��Should we be concerned for Gojo-sensei? She looks like she’s about to kill someone,” Yuji whispered to Megumi and Nobara.

He wasn’t joking. There was a deep scowl on your face while your eyes twitched at every message you got. Your pink nails dug into your palms as you got angrier and angrier. There was no doubt in Yuji’s mind that Gojo wouldn’t make it out alive when he came back.

“He brought it on himself, idiot,” Megumi said, snapping Yuji out of his thoughts.

“How?” Yuji responded.

“Gojo-sensei knows this is her only day off and specifically told us we should do this today without fail, probably just to piss her off more.”

“Hmph, Gojo has no respect for a lady’s personal time,” Nobara butted in, crossing her arms.

“Let’s go.” You had finally stopped fuming at your phone angrily.

The mission was actually quite simple — something Gojo neglected to tell you. All you had to do was watch over his students as they attempted to exorcize a curse, a test made to see if their abilities were up to par.

You could breathe a sigh of relief when they told you that. At least you wouldn’t have to use your cursed energy.

Well, you lied.

As it turns out, nobody bothered to check the curse’s grade (or the higher ups neglected to do so in order to get rid of Yuji). You were told it was a grade 3, something simple that the teenagers could handle. Now, the curse was a grade 1 that easily beat Yuji, Nobara and Megumi up.

Sigh.

You would definitely make Gojo pay for this, especially on your off day.

“Of course I have to clean up Gojo’s mess now.”

The curse easily towered over you, reaching at least 7 feet in height. It wasn’t humanoid like the other curses Gojo had encountered then told you about, though, instead, it donned a traditional Japanese yukata with the lower half of an octopus and a human torso accompanied by an ox head. Quite terrifying in your opinion — if you were a normal person, that is.

“You got this, sensei!” shouted Yuji who sat by a wall.

“Well, I’ve got students watching. Don’t disappoint me, little octopus.”

Disappoint you it didn’t. As a matter of fact, it left you stunned with its speed. It was faster than you, managing to land a strike near your ribs. That ought to cost you a pretty penny in the hospital later.

“Ohoho, I see a little octopus curse has already bruised up that pretty face of yours.”

There was that irritating voice of Gojo’s, narrating the battle as if he was actively fighting it and not you. Of course he’d come in right at the moment when you’re losing. You’d only managed to keep the curse’s limbs restricted with vines, but beyond that you couldn’t do anything. That was the curse of being a grade 3 sorcerer.

“Shut up and come help me, idiot!”

“Nah, I like seeing you put in the effort,” Gojo said as he stood around. You could see the bag of mochi he was holding, offering some to your students as a way of showing his unbothered nature by the situation.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re paying my hospital bill after this.”

“Say please.”

“YOU WANT ME TO BEG YOU TO HELP??” Disbelief coursed through your veins and was as clear as day on your face. There was no way you’d plead Gojo for help.

Well, yes there was.

“Please.”

You had no strength left to deal with a curse of that level; Gojo was now your only option. You knew how to pick your battles, after all (or so you’d like to think).

“Now, in exchange for a kiss on the cheek, I’ll definitely help.”

He had to be joking — there was absolutely no way that would be happening.

He wasn’t joking.

“You’re an idiot,” you whispered in Gojo’s ear as you pressed your lips to his cheek, sealing your fate.

“I can die happy now,” Gojo said as he made a stupidly in love face.

“CAN’T YOU TAKE CARE OF THE CURSE FIRST?!?”

[gotwcird]

star shivers when nico kisses the tender inside of her knee. once untouched, now a place that's been brushed against in an intimacy that would have made her cry if she wasn't fingering herself stupid right now. he seems to do this a lot, touch her in places she never thought to ask, placing intense emotions she'd never imagined she'd been able to experience. it intensifies when he keeps going along her skin, words egging her on more and more. but then he's asking her to say it back to him — that she's incredible — and even her fingers pause for a long second. she can call herself filthy things for him any day, does it willingly now, the action making her clench and writhe every time. but the prospect of calling herself a good thing, a genuine praise has her stunted. her eyes widen as she feels her cheeks flush from embarrassment, the words dancing on the tip of her tongue but unable to form properly. incredible. was she really? she never thought of herself that way, at least in any serious manner. "i'm–" she's almost tempted to refuse, to say she can't. the word is too hard, too heavy. carries implications beyond this little world they've built on her bed. but then star is reminded of the terseness from before. the firmness he showed her, what he's capable of, pulling away and only touching her if he's pleased. it terrifies her, alas, and she's always been terribly terribly obedient for him. "i'm incredible," she says, tone soft and unsure, but still loud enough for him to hear.

nico's smiling now, a full one, one that reaches his eyes; and it's a sight to behold. it's something anyone could recognize if they saw him instead of his usual small ones. but no one else is privy to this side of him and she's sick with satisfaction from the fact. her's, only her's. "two. two fingers," star answers, breathy and stunted. ( her index and middle finger usually being the one to help herself find release, though they don't ever compare to his now. ) nico's next question catches her off guard immediately, suddenly turning right around back on it. the truth is that she'd take any and all of him that he'd give her, would happily be stretched wide for him. as long as it's him. so after swallowing hard, she continues. "four . . . or- or all of them." she feels like she's losing her breath now, arm beginning to ache, her three fingers pushing and tucking into herself, brushing and pushing into that fleshy bit near her opening.

'and i'm all yours.' the comfort that statement brings her is indescribable. there's something to it, him reaffirming it, calling her 'my girl'. the ownership of it, the unstated devotion. how much it fills her with that overwhelming emotion again, pulling her away into some place as beautiful as it is scary. byeol pushes her hips up as he hoists her for him to see, to show him clearly what he's making her do. what she's eager to accomplish for him. she's his own private show. she adds the other finger in as per instruction, doing her best to focus on his words despite the way the added stretch is making her whimper. but star doesn't slow down. the way nico is watching her spurs something deep in her, makes her even wetter somehow. "okay," she replies to his instruction, unable to say anything else because she's stretching herself wide now, four digits in. fingers herself dutifully under his keen watch, dark bleary eyes glued to him, hips jerking and tight. hears the wet squelch of herself that's so comically loud, that she feels like it isn't even her making those noises right now. it feels like she's watching some exaggerated porn video, the volume turned up high. but no, it's all her. her fingers and soaked pussy, fucking into herself hard and fast, chasing the high that she can feel just past the corner.

"ni- nico. fuck. yes, i– i'mso– s'close." her words slur together, eyes shiny with tears, looking at him desperately. she'd been iron-hot when she continued at his instruction just now, kick-started by nico's furious fucking in the elevator earlier. star can't even recognize her own voice either right now; moans and keens ebbing and flowing, coming deep from her chest one moment and then going high and tight from the top of her scalp. "cum– cumming–" her eyes roll back, free hand grabbing her own wrist to help with the ache that builds in her forearm, helping herself twist in and out of herself furiously. and while it's nothing compared to his cock — the hot, solid velvet of it, the way it reaches parts of herself she struggles to feel for right now — she's hurtling straight down into release, pushed into the sweet spot at the thought that nico would be taking over the moment she does. "nico!" star comes, and she doesn't know where anything starts and stops anymore. the one thing she can comprehend is nico's touch, keeping her grounded to their bed. keeping her here, barely sane and yet still devastatingly ready for him.

NICO IS PRETTY DAMN SURE HE'S IN LOVE . but he knows better than to say in right now , in the heat of the moment , when it can seem so meaningless and fraught . none of what star makes him feel is either of those things . she makes him better . she brightens his day . she's one of his favourite people he's ever known . it's indescribable how he feels around her . IT'S ALL SO NEW . he thought he'd liked women before , had been with plenty of them , but they never made him feel so hungry and insatiable yet desperately satisfied all at once . he keeps his eyes on her , imploring , as he sweetly kisses her knees again , the inside parts , the delicate skin . he's never kissed this part of her before and it feels wrong . he wants to lie her down and make sure he kisses every single part . he doesn't want to miss a single bit of her . a smile graces his features as she breathes out , voice tight and melodic . like your cock better . " you look so good with me inside you . " nico agrees quietly . he was rough in the elevator , and now all he wants is the exact opposite . lavish her in praise , in love , in gratitude . " i don't even have words for you , star . " he murmurs , lips still pressing against her knee , eyes sweeping up to meet hers , before glancing back at where she has her legs so eagerly spread , fingers pumping in and out of her . " you're incredible . you know that ? " he presses a few more kisses , brushes them higher up , to the inside of her thigh where it meets her knee . " say it for me . " HE NEEDS HER TO KNOW . knows she'll get all blushed and embarrassed . she'll say the filthiest words for him without batting her eyes , but nico knows she deserves to say the good stuff - THE RIGHT STUFF - aloud too .

" you don't know ? " nico hums out , inquisitively , repeating back her own half - answer . his smile tugs up , reaching the corners of his eyes , making them wrinkle as he kisses her again and again , allows his tongue to swirl against her skin . HE CAN SMELL HER . smell the mix of them , hear the perfect noise of her fingers inside of her . " how many fingers do you usually use on yourself ? " he whispers out . THE ROOM FEELS SORDID . it feels heavenly . it feels like a palace of their own design . " how many fingers would you let me put inside you , baby ? hm ? " THEY BOTH KNOW THE ANSWER , but nico likes to hear her say it . he opens his mouth this time as he kisses slightly higher on her thigh , nose brushing against her skin , teeth grazing . " try one more for me ? can you do that , beautiful girl ? gently now . . ." the pace in which she moves her own fingers is sweet and practiced . he grovels in it . his eyes looks at her pink wetness , soaking in , raw and swollen . SO BEAUTIFUL . he hates that he doesn't know more words . he should learn the entire dictionary for her , really . " you're mine . " he agrees , eyes grazing closed for a second , but all he can still see , hear and smell is her fingers moving , twisting , pressing . " and i'm all yours . " there's no denying it . no hiding from the truth . it's been that way since day one .

" keep going . i wanna see how you do it to yourself . " nico's eyes reopen , dark and heavy lidded before his gaze meets hers , steady again . his fingers trickle and trace down her legs . they move to her ass , so he can hoist her up , hold her like this , cover her in the palms of his hands . " i wanna know exactly how you like to please yourself . so i can do it to you , too . the way you deserve . my girl . " the last two words breathe out of him in time with his heartbeat . my girl . a whisper . a beg . a plead . his cock stirs again , and he can feel a pulse run through him with almost violence . he wants to wrap his mouth around her . he wants to taste her , drink her , devour her . he wants to move his fingers inside of her . wants to fuck her until she's saying she can't cum anymore . HE WANTS TO PLEASE HER SO BAD . WANTS TO KEEP HER HAPPY AND FUCKED AND SATED . " then you tell me when you want me to take over , okay ? like a good girl . you make yourself cum once , then let me take a turn on you next , yeah ? " his teeth gently press against her skin again , sucking over the spot immediately , so as not to hurt her . he sees the irony in that he's never much of a speaker , unless it's them two together and they're in bed and she's WRECKED ( basically : all the time , if he's doing it right ) . nico presses an open mouthed kiss up her thigh , a little further , nose almost brushing where her hand is . " pretty . " he tells her , before moving to her other leg , repeating the movement . " sexy . " he exhales , nose nudges again , this time as an encouragement for her to go faster . to keep going . YES YES YES . my girl .

[missmeinyourbones]

hello favorite writer !! can u do megumi w 46 in the kisses section ? i hope u r doing well and i love ur works :)

46. angry kisses (M. FUSHIGURO) (wc: 650+)

part of L’s 1K event!

“Megumi?”

He can practically hear the quiver of your lip before he sees it, turning around at the sound of your voice calling out his name. He should be scared, petrified, of the wrath he knows he’s about to face. He should be shaking in fear and anticipation of the anger he knows you hold for him right now, but he isn't.

If anything, in some sick way, he’s relieved. Grateful to even be hearing your voice after the stupid stunt he just pulled on his mission. Even if your voice was laced with fury and resentment, it was still yours. 

When he fully turns and sees you, he can practically feel the heat from the anger radiating off of you. If it was possible, he’s absolutely certain that steam would be coming out of your ears. You wear a livid yet weary expression, one he’s become far too accustomed to these days. And again he finds himself cursing his heart for swooning at the sight of your angered frame, because again, it’s yours. 

Suddenly you’re walking towards him, quickly and motivated as you close the space between the two of you. He expects a light shove, some tears, maybe even a flick on the forehead. He expects your desperate pleas of hurt and betrayal, or even worse, the silent treatment. What he doesn't expect but somehow still receives, is your lips desperately on his, inhaling all of him as if you might never get the chance to taste him again. 

“You’re so stupid,” you whisper between the cracks of his bloodied pout. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” he agrees, and he means it. He knows how foolish it was to risk his life on a whim like that, without saying goodbye to you or kissing you one last time. He thinks he’d kill you if you did the same to him. 

“I know,” he repeats (more so to himself) into your mouth, lips still feverishly on one another. 

He’s not sure what he did to deserve this kind of reaction, but he’s more than thankful for it. You are mad at him, he can tell from the harsh insults imbedded in your kisses, but you’re still kissing him. So how mad can you really be? 

“How could you do that to me?” 

Kiss. 

“Something could’ve happened to you.” 

Kiss. 

“You’re so selfish.” 

Kiss. 

“I would have never done that to you.” 

Kiss. 

Your hands are clinging and grasping onto any part of him they can reach: his sore arms, disheveled hair, tiresome back. Poking, prodding, feeling him. Making sure he’s alive and here, in your arms and stupid as ever. 

“Not that I’m complaining or anything but,” Megumi decides to try his luck, as he slips his tongue into your mouth for a second before pulling away once more to quietly mumble, “if you’re so mad at me, why are you kissing me?”

And he almost regrets asking, because for the first time since you walked into his embrace, your lips leave his as you pull away to look him in the eyes. 

“Because I need to feel you,” you pine and he feels the love in your voice—it encompasses him like a familiar scent of warmth and home. Your eyes burn into his as you continue, “Make sure you’re still with me, even though you’re an asshole.”

He lets out a soft chuckle at your crude insult and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more loved than he does in this moment. For someone to scream at him, hold him accountable, want more for him, it feels like a blessing which he doesn’t deserve. 

“I’m sorry,” he returns, forehead resting on yours as his large and calloused hand rubs sweet circles on the center of your back. 

“No, you’re not,” you mumble as your lips find his again, needing him close. You feel him smile into the kiss as he grabs your face to deepen his movements.

“Kinda hard to be when you’re kissing me like this,” he admits with a grin. “Not exactly a punishment.”

NOTE: f- favori- favorite writer????? imagine me clutching my chest and blushing bc thats whats happing rn. thank u for all of ur support / reading my works / requesting this for the sweetest stupid boy ever! i hope you are doing amazing and that this makes u smile 

[green-socks]

Restraint

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F!reader

Summary: Ah, the good ole plot summary for a smut fic without any plot.. Jake wants to push your buttons, but you show him that you can handle him and then some.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: SMUT, !!adults only!! and I wont tell you twice!; subby Jake, belt as a restraint, some spanking, calling Jake a dirty boy, oral (f), pegging, pwp

Notes: The smut demon took over and this happened. Thank you to @callsign-phoenix and @skvatnavle for reading this through for me!! <3 First time writing Jake and this wasn't how it was supposed to happen but then again maybe it was.

MASTERLIST

”Hangman, give Bob back his cue stick,” you demand.

You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, just likes to tease Bob, maybe to see if he could get a reaction out of the WSO one of these days, who knows. You’re not trying to figure out how Hangman’s weirdly emotionally stunted brain works, you’re just sick of him not letting Bob finish a game. Especially when Bob is playing with you.

“But babe, I wanna play with you now,” Hangman mock-pouts.

“I’ll play with you if I beat Bob. You know the rules. And that can’t happen if you won’t let Bob play. Now give the stick back and wait for your turn like a big boy.”

“Or what, you’ll punish me?” Hangman snorts, clearly not taking you very seriously.

“If I have to,” you shrug.

Hangman narrows his eyes, trying to suss out if you’re being serious or not. Apparently, he settles for a compromise: still holding eye contact with you, he bends low on the table and bags the eight ball with a wink before thrusting the cue stick back at Bob, saying, “Have at it, Bobby,” and walking away.

You grit your teeth and glare daggers at his glorious, broad, retreating back. He really likes to push your buttons, that man.

There’s an obvious current of sexual tension between the two of you, has been for the past two weeks, and it annoys you how much you wanted him. He seems to feel the same way about you. Or maybe he just really liked teasing you. Whatever the case, you swear you won’t be the first one to crack. He’d have to come to you.

-

In the end, you’re not quite sure your resolve held the way you had planned.

Somehow the intense and nearly angry flirting had escalated from the moment with the cue stick into such obscene proportions that you were kindly asked to take it outside, preferably “to a room”.

So back to your room you had stormed, closing the door with a bang, only to have Hangman knocking on it not a minute later. Technically, he did come to you first, but you were the one who pulled him in and told him to kiss you, so all in all you’d have to call it even.

His tongue is in your mouth and you’re already moaning, trying to rip off his shirt, when he murmurs, “Yeah, you want it bad baby?”

And that cocky question reminds you of earlier. About what he said.

“Yea, I do want it. I want to give you that punishment we talked about. Isn’t that why you came here?” you ask, playing innocent while definitely not innocent.

Hangman stops and raises his eyebrows. “You’re being serious?” When your expression doesn’t waver, he grins that stupid broad grin of his. “Alright, let’s see what you got. I’m in. Do your worst, honey.”

“Oh, Jake, you couldn’t handle my worst,” you grin back devilishly.

In truth you have no plan on how to proceed in the slightest and are actually hoping for some sort of divine inspiration to hit you before you embarrass yourself.

“Oh yeah? You gonna spank me or something?” Jake asks, still grinning as if this was amusing to him, and pulls off his shirt before going for his belt.

Ah, the divine inspiration. There it is.

“Oh, I might,” you say lightly, while reaching for his discarded belt. “But at first, I’ll make sure you won’t be misbehaving during it.”

Hangman looks confused, and you can’t help the smile on your face as you instruct him to lie down on the bed with his feet on the ground and face down on the mattress. To his credit, he goes willingly, still not shedding his cocky attitude, which you use to your advantage. Before Jake has even fully realized it, you have grabbed his hands and brought them behind his back, tying them together using the belt, creating a nice restraint.

“How’s that, Bagman?” you tease, whispering in his ear. “Still feeling cocky?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself,” he smirks, his body language suggesting you should peek inside his pants.

And well, you can’t resist that, can you.

You move to stand behind him, and slowly peel his pants off him, but notice the.. absence of something.

“Oh, you’re a naughty boy Jake, going without underwear. What ever am I going to do with you, you filthy thing,” you tut.

Jake tries to laugh it off, but you can see him squirm a little. Good.

You wonder what his limits are, and how far you can push him..

“You have a safe word, Jake?”

“Parachute.” But his tone suggests that he doubts either of you will need it.

You hum in confirmation, good, and lay your hand on his firm ass.

“You wanted a spanking, didn’t you? Tormenting Bob just to push my buttons? Just asking for it, filthy boy.”

All the while you spew whatever comes through your mind, you caress his back and ass, making Jake breathe just a little heavier, but otherwise you have to applaud his restraint so far.

Time to crank it up a notch.

You bring your hand down on each buttock a few times, and while Jake initially jumps a little, he clearly still wants to hold on to his unaffected façade, maybe not wanting to let you “win”. It isn’t until you dig your nails into his ass, giving a firm squeeze after each slap that you start to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a proper moan, though you can tell he tries to stop it.

“Oh you’re enjoying this! Of course you are, dirty, dirty boy, enjoying his spanking. But you’re not supposed to enjoy a punishment, are you, Jakey?”

Your words seem to be affecting him, the color on his cheeks rising along with the blush creeping up the back of his neck.

You move your fingers to slightly stroke the skin between his buttocks, testing the waters there, circling his opening. And to your surprise, that gets the biggest reaction yet.

“Oh, you like when I touch you here, Jake?” you purr, pressing harder.

“Y-yes,” he stutters. “Feels good.”

You hum approvingly. “You ever taken a cock here?”

“N-no.”

“You ever wanted to?”

“No!” he tries to deny, but then, “…Yes.”

You don’t know which answer surprises you more, honestly. You sort of expected Jake to be one of those guys who don’t want to hear about anything going up their ass, but at the same time you were fairly certain he didn’t lack experience with men either.

“You want my cock in there?”

This time Jake does a weird jerking motion with his whole body, as if he’s trying to press his ass closer to you while at the same time rutting his cock into your bed. Which you think is answer enough.

“Well, let’s try it then,” you say, and notice your own voice has gone all husky too. You’re unbelievably turned on by this whole scenario, and you have to give yourself a pat on the back for being able to walk on steady legs to your drawer where you keep your harness and dildo, along with a bottle of lube. So what if you brought toys with you to base? That’s completely normal, right?

But instead of getting back behind him, you lay down on the bed directly in front of him. Jake lifts up his head and looks at you confused.

“You still have to be punished before you get your reward,” you explain. “Or did you forget that already? Did you think you’d just get my cock, like you’d been a good boy? Because you weren’t, Jakey. And you know it.”

Oh it’s much more fun to watch his reactions right up close like this, where you can see his pupils dilate further when you start rubbing your clit as you talk. Seeing his reaction to your bare pussy right in front of his face, where you’re sure he can clearly see and smell you, is priceless. He finally seems to forget he’s trying to prove he can take your punishment, and just let’s go.

“Oh, fuck, you’re wet. Your pussy looks so pretty, baby,” Jake breathes. But apparently he still thinks he has the right to call any shots, because he demands, “come here so I can get my mouth on you, make you come.”

“I can make myself come just fine, thank you. What you’ll do is watch until you learn to be a good boy and wait for your turn.”

Hangman curses at you, and you can see not getting to touch, neither himself nor you, is getting to him. Which is why you press two fingers inside your sopping wet pussy, playing up your reactions so he can see how much you’re enjoying yourself even without his help.

Jake curses a blue streak, grunts, hisses, and lets out a whole bunch of interesting noises while his face is twisted in what looks almost like pain. You’d be worried that the restraint is hurting him or something, but you check, and he shrugs off your concern impatiently. However, it seems that he has learned his lesson because he doesn’t demand anything from you anymore.

Instead, after loooong minutes of you touching yourself, when he can no longer take it, he begs.

“Fuck, baby, please let me lick your pussy, please. I want to taste it, how wet you are, I can smell you, it’s making me fucking crazy. Please. You can do anything you want to me, I don’t care, just let me taste you,” he babbles.

“When you beg so prettily, there’s no way I can refuse you, baby,” you say softly, and slide down on the bed the few inches you need to to press yourself right against his face.

And he dives in like he wants to drown. Which he honestly might. You’ve literally never been this wet in your life.

Jake eats pussy like you never thought he would. He’s absolutely messy, slurping and really getting himself into it, when usually he’s so controlled and cool. Then again, you have no doubts he could pull you apart with deadly precision were the roles reversed.

You can’t help but think how pretty he is like this, with his eyes closed and face flushed, tongue buried in your cunt. You’d love to just fall down flat on your back and enjoy, but then you’d miss seeing his face as he gets completely lost in it. And that would just be terrible. Because Jake really is getting lost in it, so much so that he’s getting too sloppy for your liking, and you feel like the need to pull his attention back to the present, just a little bit.

You grab what you can of his short blonde hair and give it a firm tug.

Jake’s head snaps up, and his glassy eyes instantly get sharper.

“Don’t make me stop yet, I want more—”

Isn’t he precious.

“Shh, baby. Right now I want you to use your ears, not your mouth, okay? Just a second, then you can get back to work,” you coo. “I want you to make me come. That’s an order.”

Jake whines, so you pull on his hair a little more.

“Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And the funny thing is, he doesn’t say it sarcastically, like he has before. Now Jake is on a mission, and it’s clear he’ll execute that mission in no time, faster than anyone ever has before, because of course. He has to be the best.

You think you come in about the same time that it took Jake to fly the training course, and it sure makes you feel like you’re floating. You’re gasping and twisting, your thighs simultaneously wanting to lock around his head and splay even wider open.

But Jake doesn’t stop or slow down, and it’s getting to the point of painful overstimulation, so you yank his hair back once again.

“Good job, Jake. Good boy,” you gasp, still breathless, and he does look very pleased with himself.

That is, until you remind him, “Now it’s your turn.” Then his expression shifts back to urgent, expectant lust with just a smidge of trepidation.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take good care of you. You’ve done your punishment, now it’s time for your reward.” You pet his hair and slide off the bed, now getting back into position behind him again.

You attach the dildo to the harness, and get to prepping him. It’s not a huge dildo by any means, but it’s always polite to prep someone before anything bigger than a finger tries to enter their ass. You lube up your fingers and his hole from the outside, before gently pressing one finger in. It goes easily, but he still feels really tight around your finger. Incredibly silky soft, too, and burning hot.

You give him just that, until you feel he’s ready for another one. And no matter how Jake whines and trashes and curses again, you won’t slide your dick inside him until you feel he’s good and ready. When you feel him properly loose around your fingers, that’s when you know the rest will go smoothly.

“Alright baby, ready for my cock?” you ask, lining it up.

“Just fuck me already goddamnit,” he growls.

You tut and give him a spank. “Did you forget your manners already?”

You only see the back of his head, but you can tell his jaw is tense when he grinds out, “Please, I want it. Please fuck me. Please.. I- I want your cock.”

“There you go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Whatever Jake was going to say in retort dies on his lips, and instead he lets out a garbled groan as you slide the dildo inside him. You let him get used to it for a moment before slowly building a rhythm, thrusting your hips back and forth. You try to aim your thrusts based on his gasps and moans, to learn what feels good for him.

However, Jake soon gets impatient with you, and starts pushing himself back on your strap, which of course delights you immensely.

“You want it bad, huh, baby?” you taunt, using his line from earlier. “Go on, fuck yourself onto my dick, go on, show me how you want it, greedy boy.”

Jake lets out a frustrated growl, but does as he’s told. It’s the hottest fucking thing in the history of all things, seeing Hangman greedily push himself back onto your strap, watching it disappear inside his ass, probably as fast as he can go in this position. It’s by the grace of some merciful sex deity that your legs don’t give out, and instead you’re able to hold firm, helping Jake bounce himself on your silicone cock by grabbing his hips.

Until you get a better idea, and slide your hands forward, all the way up his beautiful tummy and chest hair, to his nipples. You pinch the hard little points, and Jake yelps.

“Fuck you’re doing so good baby, fucking yourself on my dick so prettily, being so good. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, you gorgeous boy,” you pant as you pinch and lightly scratch his nipples more.

Jake is openly crying out now, unintelligible moans flowing freely from his pink lips, until something in him snaps again. “Please, please, make me come, I need to come, please, I can’t, fuck, shit, I love you, I hate you, just let me come, I need to come, ah.”

You take over from him, grabbing his restrained wrists for leverage as you start pounding him as hard and fast as you can, while sneaking your other hand around him to reach his throbbing, burning hot cock. Jake’s cries rise in both volume and pitch, and it doesn’t take even six tugs of his cock to have him spill all over your hand and bedspread. He just comes and comes, shaking and bucking soundlessly, until finally he collapses on the bed, right on top of his own mess, uncaring. 

You gingerly pull out of him and quickly take the harness off before opening the belt and gently setting his hands down on his sides. Then you grab some tissues from the nightstand and ask him to roll over so you can clean the mess.

Jake is still panting, and he has a face of giddy disbelief on him. “Okay.. I have to admit. You are good.”

You smirk. “Almost too good to be true?” 

Hangman laughs and pulls you on top of him. “Hell yes.”

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

Interested parties/sisters in sin: @pilothusband @marvelousmermaid