#nah i have some choice words for you

[jaydethepirate]

fym nuh-uh?🤨

[spotsupstuff]

as i'm workin on my Ancient stuff- i've got to say that it is really interesting and neat (read: nasty) that there's a good chance most of the Ancient population probably didn't actually wear masks. but We think they did cuz the only really solid evidence of what they looked like at all all comes from places of the higher social circles. and those strived for religious... superiority, i guess. brownie points, not actual dedication to the religion for the sake of its teachings but either because it made them look good, put them higher in the social hierarchy or whatever manipulation have you (or the flawed look upon the religion aka "we gotta get out of this cycle no matter what")

all we are left with are the bastards. the simple people and their cultures that were left to weather the Iterators' rains were simply washed away. nobody cared for their way of life- as long as it served the higher circles well and they stayed submissive (enough so that at the end everyone would take a dip in the void), nobody had to give a singular shit

just how much do we not know about the Ancients' *everything* because of this disregard? how much do we think we are right about, when such is true only for the small but privileged piece of the species?

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[skzdarlings]

lady-like ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: ❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜ W CHAN I BEG OF YOU + original ask: requested by anonymous: “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address”+ Chan <3

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: enemies to lovers, established lovers. criminal!chan, masked!chan. dom!chan, sub!reader (background mentions of switching). choking, floor sex, rough sex, dirty talk. brief mention of some sexism in the workplace. word count: 2050 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

It is the middle of the night and you are patrolling the art gallery yourself.  You do not trust your colleagues or the security team tonight.  No one believes there is any way to track the SKZ gang but you have found an undoubted pattern.  That motley band of thieves have struck this gallery more than once, making off with paintings and artifacts alike, but tonight you will catch them.

Tonight you will catch him.   

Your thought conjures him like a devil.  You turn a corner and a gloved hand escapes the shadows, covering your mouth.  You are yanked backwards, right into his chest, your back to his front. 

You feel a moment of satisfaction because ha, you were right.  No one believed you but you knew SKZ would strike tonight. 

Then you are furious because those rotten thugs are probably making off with a priceless artifact while their leader holds you hostage. 

“Hey there,” Bang Chan says in that too-friendly drawl.  “How’s my favourite girl tonight?”

You try biting his hand but the leather of his glove is quite thick.  Probably on purpose.  You have left more than one bite mark on him in past encounters.   

“Ah-nah-nah,” he says, steadying you when you wriggle. “Stop that.  We both know how this ends.  Let’s play nice this time instead, yeah?” 

You answer by stomping on his foot and throwing your head back.  The smack surprises him and he stumbles, giving you an opportunity to turn and brace yourself in a more defensible stance.  You face him, hands up, adrenaline thundering through your body. 

Chan is wearing all black, including a beanie and mask.  He removes the hat, revealing hair just as black, but keeps the mask while rubbing his jaw.  The half-hidden face somehow makes the dark intensity of his eyes look even more severe. 

You and Chan have a played a long game of cat-and-mouse.  You are so used to his teasing that you almost forget he is dangerously competent man.  A criminal.  A criminal you despise.   A criminal who is undoubtedly grinning at you under that mask, given the way his eyes crinkle with mirth.  It should not make your heart race. 

“Ouch,” he says.  He takes a step towards you, inching out of the shadows.  “You’ve been training.  Impressive.” 

“Not like I had a choice,” you snap. “Some no good criminal keeps attacking my art gallery.” 

“Criminal, yeah,” Chan says.  “But no good?  Really?”  He flicks a hand your way, not so much striking as testing your reflexes.  You bat it successfully and his eyebrows lift, showing he is moderately impressed.  

“You’re a dirty thief,” you say, taking a swing of your own.  Yours is much more deliberate, swinging at his head, but he dodges just as easily. 

You scamper backwards, his booted steps following swiftly.  You keep your hands up in defense.  He is still smirking under that mask. 

“Thief, yeah,” he continues to tease.  “But dirty?  Well… I suppose you’d know…” 

Heat pulses under your skin. 

This cat-and-mouse game has crossed many lines.  You cannot even remember how it first happened.  It feels like Bang Chan has always been in the shadows, stealing paintings and kisses alike.  One moment you were snarking at the infuriating cat burglar, then your hands were in his hair and his mouth was on yours. 

Sometimes he wins, distracting you or holding you, giving his team time to make off with something.  Sometimes you win, trapping him or his men and only letting them go if they relinquish their prize.  Weirdly, Chan seems to like it when you outsmart him.  It quite literally puts him on his knees.

Flustered, your next swing is more emotional than strategic.  He catches your arm and spins you again, trapping you against his body.  You grunt and struggle in his arms. 

“That’s not very polite, you know,” he says.  “I thought you said you were a lady.”

Yes, you have made such an insistence in the past, reminding him you are a lady of class, an educated woman, an intelligent academic.  He did not argue.  He did pin you to the wall and choke you in that infuriatingly delicious way, the way that gets you coming all over his hand in a second.   That’s it, he said, with a hand around your throat and another under your skirt.  Tell me what a lady you are.  Letting a criminal like me make you come.  Tsk, what would your co-workers say? 

You stamp the memory down because it is getting you hot.   He is holding you differently than before, so you cannot swing your head back again.  You writhe uselessly. 

“I didn’t just say I was a lady,” you snap.  “I am a lady.  I am a respected professional, unlike you—”

“I’m respected and professional, thank you,” he says, his tone still bright like he is having fun. 

It is fun. You hate to admit it, but it is.  Before he started breaking into your galleries, every day was the same.  Your life was such a monotony and you dread returning to it. There is a reason you never call the authorities on him.  There would be no triumph in that demise. You would lament his absence and forever feel like business went unfinished. 

You are satisfied when you can face this dangerous man and win, when you can push him on his back and put him in his place, when all that danger and power and skill surrenders to you and you alone.  Because Bang Chan has a notorious reputation for a lot of things, but fraternizing with civilians is not one of them.   

Except you. 

Except right now. 

“You know what I say, little miss lady?” he asks.

He gives you no time to answer.  Your breath catches when he circles that gloved hand around your throat and squeezes.  It softens every part of you immediately, like a kitten grabbed by the scruff, instinctively and animalistically submissive in the claws of something powerful. 

You whimper, your knees going weak.  You know you are wet.  You know he knows. 

He pulls you against him.  You can feel every hard plane of his body, his bulky body armour, his weapons.  You feel either a buckle or his bulge against your body, but either way it is irrevocably suggestive.   When you wriggle, he squeezes your throat, and you go pliant again. 

“I’d say,” he whispers, “you need someone to put you in your place.”   

Oh, he has talked about your place many times before.  It’s with me, he will insist, fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come again and again, putting you on your knees and bringing out all the hidden dark and dirty parts of yourself.  Come on, he will say, we’re perfect for each other, yeah? You know it.  Join my team.  Come with me. 

You do admit, he respects your keen eye and talent, and he acknowledges your expertise far more than the other people at your gallery.  It took a year to even be allowed to do substantial tasks, relegated to fetching everyone’s coffee, getting spoken down to because you were a woman whose ambition was considered a nuisance. 

That is not enough to resort to a criminal life.  Surely? 

But for a moment, you can imagine giving into the darkness permanently.  Tonight, it is you that surrenders as he drags you both into the shadows and onto the floor.  He takes off his jacket and lays it out, pushing you down face-first onto it.  You take a dizzying gulp of air while his hands are occupied, removing his gloves, unbuckling his utility belt.   

You wait for the moment he lifts your skirt.  His breath catches when he realizes you are not wearing anything underneath.

You yelp because he smacks your ass.  You look back at him with as much fury as you can muster in your haze of lust. 

“A lady,” he says, grabbing your hips and tugging you back.  “Sure.” 

“I am,” you say, but your voice is rough, your breathing heavy just from his bare fingers gliding down your wet pussy, the evidence of your desire betraying your claims of propriety. 

“Sure, baby girl,” he says, because he knows it annoys you even while it makes you clench.  He can see the evidence of that too, swearing as he looks at you, making you feel even more exposed and flustered.   “You’re made for me, you know that, sweetheart?  Always feel so good on my dick.  God.” 

“You’re taking your time tonight,” you say dryly.  “Getting sentimental?  Turning into the slow and gentle type?” 

He laughs.  Then he grabs you by the neck, pinning you to the floor as he sidles up behind you.  The head of his cock presses at your entrance, wet with anticipation. 

“You want gentle?” he asks.  He is inside you with one deep thrust.  “Wrong fucking address.”

The truth is, even when rough, he is careful.  Your face never leaves his jacket and he knows where to squeeze and hit and press properly.   Bizarrely, ridiculously, you are safe in this criminal’s dangerous hands.   The biggest threat they pose are just how skilled and deft they are, making you forget about all of those details as he manhandles you and fucks your worries away. 

He wraps a hand around your throat and lifts you.  He is still in his mask, still almost entirely clothed except his undone fly.  Your skirt is up, your shirt in disarray, your chest and throat exposed to his hands.  You can hear him panting into his mask, your own breath as wild until he steals it.  You clench around him, making a weak, ragged sound as he chokes you and pounds into you. 

“You’re not gonna come like this, are ya?” he taunts, because he knows your body well, can feel you are the on verge just from his angles and rhythm.  “Tsk,” he says.  “That’s not very lady-like.”

You would tell him to shut up, but you can only manage a weepy moan as he drives you over the edge of a mind-numbing orgasm.  You feel drenched, dripping down your thighs, and he still doesn’t relent, pushing you back down and holding your hips as he drills through every sensitive nerve. 

“Fuck,” you say, twisting your fingers around his jacket.  Your knees will probably be bruised after this.  No short skirts or everyone will know something happened.  Would they guess you let the most notorious burglar in the country arch your back and fuck you on the floor?  Probably not.  You have always been a stickler for rules. 

Until this.  Until him. 

“Chan,” you say, breathless, rasping.  “Chan.”

“Fuck,” he says.  Then the weight of him is on your back, his hips grinding into yours.  His masked face brushes your ear and he speaks in a low voice, “Guess where I’m coming tonight, baby girl.” 

Your walls are still fluttering with aftershocks, pulling him deeper at his words.  It is not the first time, no.  God only knows how long ago that conversation first happened, telling him it was safe, how much you wanted it.   Letting him do things you never let anyone else do.  Breaking all your rules for him. 

“Fuck, Chan,” you say. 

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps.  “That’s who’s fucking you.  No one fucks you like I do.  God.  You can take it.  So good.” 

You can feel when he comes, his chest vibrating with his groan, the warmth inside you.  You slump in his arms, ravaged and sore and not the least bit sorry for it. 

You should be.  He won this round.  You should be furious at him.  You should be threatening him.  Your usual rapport. 

His mask comes off.  You hear it hit the floor.  Then he is grabbing your jaw and turning your face and kissing you deeply.�� He holds your throat, not threateningly but possessively.  He is kissing you for so long, you almost forget who you are.  Then you surface.  You look at each other. 

“Come with me,” he says. 

The haze of lust has vanished.  You should be thinking clearly.  You fear, for the first time, you are.    

You suppose he has stolen everything else, why not you too? 

You put your hand in his.   

[princessbrunette]

bunny!reader didn’t like being bad. infact, bunny!reader was bad at being bad.

“you slammin’ my doors now, huh? is that — is that what we’re doin’?” his voice booms through the hallway, and you regret it as soon as you’d happened to shut rafe’s bedroom door with just a tad too much attitude.

you wouldn’t call it a dispute, moreso you complaining. you’d gotten into trouble, purely over a misunderstanding on your part. barry had told you that he was your friend, and that you were welcome over to his place to hang out anytime. betrayed by your own naivety, you believed him — which lead to rafe all but dragging your ass back to tannyhill.

he doesn’t yell when he swings the door open, controlling himself. he knows deep down you didn’t mean any harm by it — so instead of spiralling out, he sucks in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he lifts a hand in thought.

“just… talk to me, alright? i need you to tell me you understand why you can not be friends with barry.” he stresses, opening his eyes wide to step towards you slowly, moving extra carefully because of the way your lip wobbled, body frozen up.

“i don’t want to talk.” you mewl, resisting the urge to thump your foot. you were never bratty, so he was allowing you some space — he had his limits though. rafe leans on his hip, holding his hand up again in despair.

“well, what — you want the belt, then? will that make you talk?” he shook his head, exasperated and you shake your head with a whimper. “okay then, so…?” he prompts.

“i just don’t understand. you’re the one who told me i should make some more friends!” you argue, voice high pitched and upset.

“yeah i meant girls at the country club, kid. not the god damn dealer i work with.” he drawls in response, blinking a couple of times like it’s obvious.

you hug your arms, feeling very silly about the whole thing as you shrink a little in stature. “i just thought that if we became friends with the same person… we could all hang out together. get to be around you more…” you bleat and he stressfully smooths his brow down with the pads of his fingers.

“thats not how it works.”

“well i’m sorry! barry is the one that said he wanted to be my friend!”

he tongues at his cheek for a moment before closing in on you, an irritated squint occupying his glare. “you really think he wants to be your friend? huh? nah, no really — really think about it baby.” he’s right infront of you, lightly tapping your temple to punctuate his word choice. rafe places a hand on your shoulder, bending to your level so he can look you properly in the eyes, forehead creasing in exertion. “i say this because i care about you, alright — he wants to fuck you. because — because that makes me look bad, right? and… and he’s always looking for ways to get back at me and plus you’re always sitting there with your fuckin’ titties hanging out your shirt so yeah, baby. he wants to fuck you.”

he lets go of you to pace, annoyed. you watch as he runs a hand over his jaw and you sniffle quietly. “oh.”

“yeah.” he speaks before glancing at you. he can see how upset the whole thing has made you, so he reluctantly starts back towards you with a sigh. “look. it’ll be easy for you to make some actual, female friends. okay? you’re a good girl. you’re — you’re kind and sweet and patient and they’d be lucky to have you.” he cups the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“am i your friend rafe?” you peer up at him, so innocently and earnestly that it takes him back.

“y— what?”

“are we friends? together?” you blink.

“you’re my girlfriend.” he speaks like it’s obvious.

“mhm, but are we friends too?”

he itches his cheek, never having really thought about it before. honestly, he didn’t really see it that way — but maybe that was because rafe cameron didn’t really have female friends. not before you and certainly not after you. it just didn’t interest him. aside from wanting to rip your clothes off 24/7, the boy did surprisingly just enjoy being in your company. so, he licks his parted lips and nods.

“that what you want? yeah, kid. i’m your friend. okay?” he swipes his thumbs beneath your eyes, collecting the mascara that had pooled beneath. “now stop crying.”

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Two) (18+) / Part One

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 5.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

An uncomfortable nap taken out of sheer spite does nothing to improve your mood. Your neck is stiff now, as is your spine, and it pops when you stretch from your place on the tiny loveseat.

“Well, Sleeping Beauty has risen,” Jake grins, the cocky expression boiling your blood, “Ready for dinner, sunshine?”

“I’m going to push you off of this boat.” You grumble, and Jake blinks, toning his smile down into a grimace.

“Well, maybe some food’ll improve your mood.” Jake rises from where he’d been presumably sleeping as well, though you’re surprised he fell asleep after you and woke up before you. His bedhead gives him away, and he runs his fingers through it, “We’ve got a table reserved in the restaurant for 6, darlin’. We should get there a little early, though, wanna head out now?”

Your nose wrinkles involuntarily, though you wouldn’t have stopped it, “You reserved us a table? I’m not eating with you.”

“We eat together all the time,” He scoffs, “Come on, Y/L/N, this is no different from eating in the mess hall.”

“It’s different because everyone who sees us is either going to think we just had sex, or that we’re about to,” You protest, but he’s out of sympathy to feign.

“Or both,” He grins, running a hand once more through his slightly less messy hair. He’s still barely dressed, and it takes effort for your eyes not to naturally drift away from his face. 

“You’re usually wearing a uniform when we eat in the mess hall, Hangman,” You narrow your eyes at him, glancing pointedly below his neck to his bare chest, but straying no further, “Unless they’ve hired you to be a stripper on board, and I’m just now finding out?”

“Nah, I auditioned but they said I was too good,” He crosses his bulging biceps over his chest, a haughty smirk on his face, “I didn’t wanna steal any tips from the ladies.”

“Right,” You drawl, aiming to move past him to reach your suitcase that’s been mysteriously moved from beside your head to the side of the bed opposite from where Jake had been sleeping. Except, the man blocking your path doesn’t move, and you’re stuck in the small hallway-like space that the loveseat is squished into.

“Hangman,” Your teeth are gritted, and they warp your words slightly, “Move. I need my suitcase, I’m going to change for dinner.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with your dress,” He eyes the fabric with feigned consideration, “Except of course that it’s a little long. It only needs to go up to about here,” He snakes a hand towards your waist, laying two hefty smacks against the skin on your hip that lines up just beneath the curve of your ass. He moves faster than you can back away, but you land a valiant smack against his hand when he withdraws it, “Then you could join my stripping act.”

“Hangman, if you touch me again, I’ll rip off your balls,” You swear, but there’s still a glint of mischief far too bright in his eyes for your liking, so you shove past him, making sure to tap your knuckles gently between his legs for good measure.

He groans, hunching over and breathing heavily, “Shit, Y/L/N, you trying to take out the Seresin line?”

“It’s not that bad,” You drawl, setting your suitcase on the bed and delving into its contents, “But a world where you can’t reproduce sounds like one I want to live in.”

You’re already halfway to the bathroom, your evening dress in hand when he calls back, “You act all high and mighty now,” You can hear the grin that Jake’s voice indicates, even if he’s rummaging through his own suitcase for something to wear, “But later tonight I’m gonna have you beggin’ for me to knock you up, darlin’.”

Jake’s efforts to break into the bathroom you’re changing in are certainly impressive, if nothing else. He tries the knob at first, like you’d have forgotten to turn the lock before stripping naked. When you demand a reason he claims he’d forgotten his deodorant, which is a perfect excuse seeing as you miss no chances to point out his sweat-stench after training.

You spot the stick on the counter and give yourself the satisfaction of rolling your eyes, even if he’s not present to see it.

The second time he knocks, having learned his lesson, “Y/N, I need to pee.”

“I’m changing!” You cry, the straps on your dress proving impossible to untangle. Apparently being jostled in a suitcase wasn’t ideal for the dress’s shape.

“Changing what, seasons? By the time you get dressed our leave will be over, and you’re gonna have to get back into uniform.”

“If you’re so anxious to get to dinner, go by yourself!” You insist, frustration laced tight to your tone, “I’ll figure this fucking dress out, enjoy a leisurely meal, and then I’ll meet up with Daniel afterwards!”

You’re so used to Jake’s rapidfire quips that the silence ensuing after your declaration feels awkward. But it’s a victory, one that you don’t often win against the man outside the bathroom door, and you let it ease the sharp sting of annoyance that your dress is needling into you.

A fist lands heavy against the door, and Jake’s voice is unusually devoid of mirth, “Open up.”

“Jake, no!” You spit out his first name like a hex, “I fucking told you-”

“I’m going to help you,” He calls through the door, knocking incessantly, “Come on, you said you can’t figure out your dress, I’ll help you.”

“Nice try!” You scoff, finally pulling at the correct string and watching as the others fall into precarious place around them. You jab your arm into the hole it’s created and slip the rest of them into formation, standing triumphant in front of the mirror and realizing you look quite like you’ve had sex after all.

You smooth down a few flyaway hairs, grab Jake’s deodorant, and fling the door open, just as Jake flattens his hand to slam his palm into the wood, no doubt trying to make more noise than a simple knock.

You’re looking at his face, and he’s looking at yours, but both of you can feel his hand pressed firmly into your tit. You don’t doubt that he’d intended to hit the door instead of you, but he’s not moving away, either. You both stand paralyzed until his brain catches up with his body and he jerks his hand away, lashes fluttering as he blinks bewilderedly despite the wry grin purposefully etched into his features in an attempt to remain nonchalant.

“Didn’t mean to do that,” He simpers, and you’re certain that’s the closest to ‘I’m sorry’ he’s ever given you. You know him well enough to know he’s adequately flustered, but outsiders might not catch the barely-there pink tinge to his tan cheeks, too distracted by his charming smile.

You overlook the accident if only to save yourself the awkward confrontation, ducking your head and shoving the deodorant stick against his chest. His hands come up to catch it and you make a break for the heels you’d set out by the closet, intent on strapping them on instead of talking to him.

He mumbles a distracted, ‘Thanks,’ when you hand him his deodorant, but the stick remains firmly capped in his hands as his gaze trails after you.

“Your dress looks nice.” He concludes, voice a tone softer than it normally is. It’s- nice. You’re too used to the bite of his southern drawl, the way he pairs a cocky quip with an eye-roll more vicious than even the most belligerent teenager. Now they’re soft and gooey-brown as he stares at the straps on your shoulders. This isn’t the first kind thing he’s ever said to you, but it’s certainly the first in a long time, and you swallow the urge to use it against him.

“Thank you.” You grumble, then, to steer away from the thick silence you’ve been enveloped in, “Not sure it’s worth it, though, those straps were fucking confusing.”

You swear you hear a mumbled, ‘It was,’, but Jake’s back is turned to you as he sets his still-capped deodorant on the bathroom counter, so you can’t be sure.

You’re surprised to find that the elevator is just as empty as you’d left it when you and Jake board to head to the 9th floor. The restaurant Jake had reserved your table at is upscale, and you presume everyone else is too busy boning to manage a sit-down meal. You settle against the back wall of the elevator in silence, looking but not watching as Jake presses the 9 button with a thick finger.

The last time you were in this elevator, Daniel was backing you up against the railing and kissing you.

Just the thought brings heat to your cheeks, and you’re thankful for the support that the wall behind you offers. If it wasn’t there, you’re not sure your weak knees would withstand the crushing weight of your weighty crush.

“Was that where he sucked your face?” Jake’s voice shatters your reverie into a million tiny, unsalvageable pieces, and you forget any momentary truce that you might have had with him only moments ago.

“Excuse me?” You level a glare at the man across from you, unimpressed with his accusation even though it was accurate, “He did not suck my face. He kissed me like a gentleman.”

Jake lets out a bark of laughter, “Right. Because gentlemen smear a woman’s lipstick halfway over her chin.”

Despite knowing you’d have seen any makeup smudges when you’d been in the bathroom earlier, your hand darts to your chin.

Jake takes it as an admission of guilt, and his sharp grin only grows, “Exactly. I’ve sucked faces before, I know what the result is.”

A rather unsavory memory assaults you of Jake crowding a vacationing New Yorker up against a wall of the Hard Deck. You push away the nauseating burning in your chest at the image, intent on never seeing Jake Seresin’s tongue inside of anyone’s mouth but his own again.

“You suck faces,” You conclude, still slightly bothered by what you’d recalled, “Daniel kisses.”

“Daniel,” Jake snorts, grasping for something to tease, “That’s not a very moan-able name, is it?”

“Neither is Jake,” You retort, “Jake sounds like a toddler running loose at the mall.”

“That’s why the ladies call me Hangman,” Jake grins, his eyes narrowed in an attempt at a smirk, “Well, some of ‘em call me Hungman by the end of the night.”

“Oh,” Your face twists into a grimace, and you’re thankful for the dinging of the elevator, “You’re not allowed to talk at dinner.”

“Only way you’ll get me to shut up is if you gag me, darlin’.” Jake laughs, stepping out of the elevator and following behind you even as you storm ahead towards the entrance to the dining room.

It’s an opulent room, chandeliers and crystal adorning every surface. You slow your pace before you reach the reception desk, so that the poor employee doesn’t think you’re going to vault over the counter and attack him, but you’re fairly certain there’s still a scowl on your face when you attempt to speak with him.

“We have a table reserved,” You inform the man, conscious of Jake’s impressive build lingering behind you, present and firm, “Room 838?”

With a quick few buttons pressed on the screen before him, the host nods, customer service smile on full force as he gestures to his left, “Of course, right this way.”

You let him lead, and you try not to get distracted by the grandiose decor. Whether it’s authentic material, or just plastic spray-painted gold, it’s beautiful, and you’re so absent-minded that you don’t acknowledge your table until you’re stopped in front of it.

“Here you are; have a lovely meal.” The man politely excuses himself, heading back to the front to greet whoever else is waiting to be checked in for their tables.

You’d been too overwhelmed by finding out that your hot sexy mystery man was actually your brutally combative fellow pilot to think about what dinner would entail beyond heated bickering. He’d drawn a comparison to the mess hall and your brain had run with it, but this is decidedly different from the drab benches you’re used to.

This is a small, delicate, round table, a white tablecloth draped elegantly overtop. It’s two candles, giving off a small aura of warm light around the dim restaurant, crystalline dishes framed with polished silverware. It’s an enclosed space, it’s knees brushing and eyes twinkling with candlelight, it’s electric shocks when skin meets skin. It’s romantic by design, and you refuse to share it with Hangman.

But you can’t refuse.

The waitstaff is limited and overworked, evidenced by the mountain of covered trays you see them rushing to different tables. It would be rude to storm out, and while you’re not worried about offending Jake, you don’t want to inconvenience the staff.

Jake sniffs out your internal conflict by only a glance at your stiff stance, a skill he’s acquired after years of working out the perfect way to get under your skin. He can read you like a book, and he knows fury and guilt are waging war in your head right now.

You’d like to think he thought fury would win, but it’s guilt in the end. You step towards your chair, reaching out with two fingers to pinch the candle on your side of the table. The flame snuffs out beneath your touch, and the mild burning sensation is worth it to hear Jake scoff.

“Nicely done, killer,” He drawls, sounding offensively unperturbed by your obvious dislike of him. To your complete and utter indignance he reaches behind your back to pull the chair out from it’s seat, offering it to you as a peace treaty.

You are not a peaceful person, not when it comes to Hangman.

You take the opposite seat, maintaining sharp eye contact with Jake as you sit down. He inhales, and you take satisfaction in the puff of his chest, a telltale sign that he’s beginning to get aggravated. He lowers himself into his own seat, but notices the way your hand darts for the one candle that’s still lit, and he snatches it out of your way before you can snuff it out. It causes the silverware on the table to rattle, and you and Jake are required to send placatingly charming smiles to the people at nearby tables who turned at the commotion.

He turns that once-dazzling grin on you like a weapon as he relights the blackened wick of the candle you’d pinched, letting it burn once more to illuminate his features.

You don’t waste a second in snuffing it out again, “The point was so that I didn’t have to see your ugly face.”

“You are the most charming dinner guest I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining with,” Jake croons, unflappable as ever, “Put your napkin on your lap, Y/N, it’ll keep your dress dry when you’re drooling over me.”

You take ash-stained fingers and leave streaky, dark prints on the white cloth napkin, draping it over your lap and folding your hands neatly over it.

“Careful, Hangman,” You warn, your voice low and your face deceptively cheery as you nod kindly at a passing waiter, “They gave me two different knives to stab you with.”

“God, why are you so pissy?” He asks, and for a moment, you don’t know the answer. It catches you off guard, and that’s never supposed to happen, not around Hangman. He speaks again before you have the chance to respond- typical.

“So, we ended up on the same sex boat. Whatever, Y/L/N, shit happens.” His jaw is tense, fraught with annoyance while his eyes blaze like the jet engines he’s so used to gunning, “I’m just teasing, y’know. You know me, I’m not a monster, I’m not going to force you to have sex with me. If you don’t want to, then we won’t, and that’s that. You don’t have to keep snapping at me, I won’t bite you.”

It’s possibly the most heartfelt, sincere thing that Hangman has ever said to you, albeit in exasperation, and you’re not sure you’re comfortable with that. Your rapport with the man has always been full of quips and jabs, nothing like what he’s just unleashed. You’d known he must have had a soft side, but you thought perhaps he’d left it back in Texas, because this is something new. You see a waiter approaching from behind Jake and smile politely at them, clueing your dinner date in to their appearance.

“Unless you want me to,” Jake adds with an insufferable wink, using the last few seconds that you’re able to speak freely to tease you. 

“Welcome,” The waiter smiles, once more with that impeccably tuned customer service politeness as he hands a wine list to Jake, “What can I get started for you this evening?”

As much as you hate to admit it, Jake’s teasing quip is familiar, a well-worn blanket you find comfort shrouding yourself in, and it breaks the awkward tension that had arisen when Hangman had spoken so sincerely towards you.

You don’t dare let a smile grace your features, but one tries; instead you settle for a kick to his shin beneath the elegant white tablecloth.

“We’ll have- mm! The- uh, the…” Jake trails off, eyes roving down the selection and realizing too late that he’s more attuned to cheap liquor in a beachside bar than he is to elegant pairings of food and wine. He recovers quickly, that special brand of Seresin charm, grinning across the table at you, “Actually, we’d like it if you surprised us. Money’s no object,” He throws in a grotesquely over-the-top wink, “Just make it special for my roommate here.”

Your teeth ache as you grind them together in a smile, and you swear you can feel your right eye begging to twitch, “How considerate of you, Jake.”

“Anything for you, dear,” He replies easily, accepting two dinner menus from the waiter and thanking him. You maintain the common courtesy of waiting until the poor man is out of earshot before tearing into Jake, and he’s lucky he’s got both of the menus still in his hands, or you’d smack him upside the head with one.

“I’m not paying out of my ass to get drunk at a candlelight dinner with you.” You hiss, courteous of the other patrons, but barely able to contain yourself.

“No, you’re not.” He agrees, blinking like he’s not sure why you’re close to shouting, “I am.”

“That’s- ooh!” You fume, eyes clamped shut and jaw so tight it hurts. You take a second to breathe, “Hangman, you know damn well I don’t like owing you money.”

You have a very strict no-loans policy, though it only applies to yourself. You have no problem spotting Natasha for a few drinks, or treating Javy to animal fries at In-N-Out, but you’d rather die than let someone use their dollar for your snack at a vending machine. Feeling like you owe something makes your skin crawl, and it’s something your friends have all had to accept. All, of course, except for Hangman, who seems to delight in making your skin crawl.

“You don’t owe me money,” He laughs, taking a sip of the glass of ice water that had been waiting at his place on the table, “And you don’t owe me anything else either, darlin’. I’m paying for the wine.”

“Then I’m not drinking it,” You decide, still caught in your blustering fury, “I’m too tired to deal with your bullshit - you can mill around the ship and beg some poor woman to drink with you, and I’ll go back to our cabin and sleep.”

You wish that the man across from you wasn’t so adept at setting your nerves on fire. You chalk it up to years and years of flying together, at each other’s throats despite being on the same team, but Jake really is able to infuriate you with something as simple as a grin. The way that hollow manipulation glazes over his eyes each time he doles out a charming smile makes your chest burn, and you wish you could get a handle on your frustration. It’s embarrassing, really, that he knows how to pick you apart and induce insanity; you wish you improved at resisting him through practice, but that’s not how it works. It only gets worse, worse and worse and worse until you’re sitting across from him at a candlelit table, yearning to whack him over the head with a black-foldered menu.

“Fine,” Jake snorts, setting the glass down in the wet indent it had made on the tablecloth before, condensation beading at its base, “You don’t have to have any. But you have to take me back to our room - if I get wine drunk, you’ll have to stop me from kissing everyone.”

The startling admission does exactly what Jake intended it to, and you’re caught off guard, the rapidly ticking bomb of frustration inside your chest temporarily disarmed. 

“You’re a drunk kisser?”

“A winedrunk kisser, yes ma’am,” Jake nods, the ammunition he supplies you with a far cry from his typically competitive nature, “First and only time I’ve ever had wine was at my sister’s wedding a few years back.” He reminisces, still holding tight to both menus as candlelight flickers on his tanned face, “She wasn’t necessarily thrilled that I started kissin’ on the groom, but I looked good in the veil when the photographer came around.”

He’s good-natured about the snort you let out in response, and finally he offers the menu to you like an olive branch, “You gonna whack me with this thing?”

“How’d you know I wanted to?” You arch an eyebrow, taking the menu from him. Prices aren’t listed - the cost of your meals was included with the boarding pass, but extras like drinks are something you’ll need to pay a tab on later. Nevertheless, the food looks to be worth your money.

“You get this look in your eye when you’re feelin’ feisty,” Jake notes, taking a look at his own menu, “Your jaw gets all tight, and I start gettin’ the urge to cover my crotch.”

Today was not the first time you’ve ever whacked him in the balls; evidently he does learn, even if he chooses not to apply that knowledge.

You neglect to respond, no longer irritated enough to tell Jake that he’s deserved every hit he’s taken from you, but never vulnerable enough to apologize. Instead you bury yourself in the menu, appreciating the array of cuisine that you’re not often treated to on a naval base. 

Jake lets you remain silent until the waiter comes back with the wine that he’d ordered, and you nod in thanks with a poorly-concealed clenched jaw to the man when he pours you a glass.

“That looks wonderful, thank you,” Jake gushes, eyes slightly narrowed as he raises his glass to his nose, inhaling the aroma wafting from the wine that he swirls gently, “Smell that, darlin’, ain’t it good?”

You reach for your portion with tense fingers that nearly shatter the stem of the glass as they wrap around it. The scent of the wine is oh-so-tempting; surely Jake’s objective for getting you to smell it was to wear you down into tasting it.

You won’t give in.

“Smells fantastic,” You concede, and if the waiter’s realized he’s in the lion’s den, pinned between two aggressors ready to rip into each other’s throats once more, he doesn’t show it. He merely bows, stepping away again and leaving the bottle on your table.

“That’s good,” Jake muses nonchalantly after a sip, glancing down at the menu in his lap as if you’ll believe he’s perusing it instead of plotting a way to make you explode at the table. 

“Well I’m glad you like it, because you’ve got a whole bottle to finish,” You snipe, “I’m not a toddler, Jake, you can’t trick me into eating my broccoli by pretending it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Who said anything about tricking you?” He leans back in his chair, wine set back on the table, “Y/N, I can enjoy a nice glass of wine without it being about you, thank you very much. Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you, and you’re not the only thing I think about.”

You’re more than used to Jake’s accusations of your egocentrism, not because it’s true, but because it’s what he defaults to whenever he can’t think of a response, but is too stubborn to let the issue go. They don’t worry you anymore like they used to, but they do irritate you, and you’re glad for the deep, smooth voice that calls your name from your left to distract you from Jake’s insults.

You know it before you turn; Daniel is there with his roommate. She’s gorgeous, her dark hair intricately braided and styled, a compliment to her skin that’s only a shade lighter, and you’re only slightly jealous of the way his arm is draped around her middle. You quell it by reminding yourself that you’d frenched him in an elevator only hours after meeting him, and this is a cruise meant for casual sex.

Perhaps your voice is a notch too sincere when you greet him, “Daniel.”

You miss it, your attention fixed on the couple approaching your table, but a muscle jumps in Jake’s jaw as it tightens. 

“Well, I guess you’re all some people think about,” Jake drawls, his grin now wolfish and lethal, and while your voice was slightly too kind, his voice is slightly the opposite, scathing in a way, “So you’re- uh, Elevator Boy?”

Daniel’s slight smirk is bashful where he bites the inside of his cheek and nods, “I guess that’s accurate. I- uh, I hope you don’t mind.”

“He doesn’t,” You reply before Jake can conjure up any more misplaced snark, “We’re not hooking up.”

Daniel’s brows furrow for only a split second, a confused reaction he hadn’t been able to politely mask in time. His roommate glances back at Jake, and the knit of her brow is less fleeting; clearly she’s thinking you’re out of your mind for not fucking him.

“Random roommates don’t always work out, I guess,” Daniel smooths over the awkward silence that’s befallen your table, and you want to kiss him for it. Well, you want to kiss him regardless, but now you’re positively fiending for a repeat of earlier.

“He’s my coworker,” You explain, “We really can’t.”

“Oh!” He laughs, and his roommate seems equally amused by your poor fortune, “That’s crazy, and- there’s no changing roommates, is there?”

“She’s stuck with me,” Jake continues aiming that deadly grin towards Daniel, and you’re surprised he hasn’t caught on fire yet. 

“Well, if you ever want to switch for a night,” Daniel squeezes his roommate’s side, his fingers ghosting over her exposed skin in the cutout dress she’s sporting, “I’m not an idiot; Danica’s ogling you.”

You marvel at the friendly banter they share after only a few hours of knowing each other, but Daniel seems fantastic to get along with. Danica laughs at his teasing and manages to look barely bashful when she nods at you, “I wasn’t gonna say anything when I thought you two were enjoying yourselves, but I’d be happy to step in if you wanna get lucky for a night.” 

“That sounds great,” You jump at the offer, but Jake speaks at the same time, voice a hair louder than your own.

“We’re not interested.” He dismisses Danica’s offer but he looks at Daniel to do it, something dangerous gleaming in his eyes that you’re only used to seeing on the tarmac.

A laugh escapes your throat, horridly disguised as something casual and not your breaking point, “Oh, we aren’t interested? I am.”

Jake blinks, shifting his sharp gaze towards you, “No switching rooms, Y/N.”

“That’s for official placements,” You sit up straighter in your chair, turned fully towards Jake now instead of angled towards Daniel, “But they’re not gonna come check on us at two in the morning to make sure we’re all in our bunks. We can swap for a night.”

“I don’t know why you’re fighting so hard for a night in his bed, the elevator seemed to work just fine. Maybe Danica and I can have a few drinks tonight, and you can slip off and defile floors 1-4.”

“That’s not-” You’re hot on Jake’s trail, intent on defending Daniel and pointing out the hypocrisy in Jake’s scathing statements, but a firm hand falls on your shoulder that silences you. Daniel’s grip is firm, but not painful, more grounding as his touch practically sucks the fire out of your veins and replaces it with calm.

“I think drinks after dinner are a great idea.” Daniel speaks coolly, with all the perfect composure you wish you had around Jake, instead of the barrel of gunfire perpetually smoldering inside of you.

“Me too,” You add, and one of Jake’s eyebrows ticks up.

“Really? I thought you said you were going to bed after this. Something about being too tired to deal with-”

“Your bullshit, Hangman.”

What you engage in next would preferably be described as a battle of wills, but to the outside eye, might look like a staring contest. It’s your vicious glare against Jake’s lazy grin, eyes alight with mischief as he does what he does best - piss you off.

“We’ll plan on drinks, then,” Danica breaks the ice, and you’re grateful for the tones of her sweet voice, “There’s a bar on the ninth deck, do you want to meet there?”

“That sounds great,” You hope she takes your kind smile for what it is; gratitude, “We’ll head there when we’re finished with our food.”

“Right,” Daniel nods, squeezing your shoulder and letting go, taking Danica by the waist once more to lead her to the table their water had pointed at, “See you then.”

Whatever farewell you murmur is lost in the general hubbub of the restaurant, something that you wish would happen to the grating tone of Jake’s drawl.

“So,” He muses, playing coy, but you won’t have it, “You’re not tired anymore?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” You steel yourself, inhaling and letting your chest puff with the breath, “But whatever you’re doing here; trying to ruin this for me just for shits and giggles - it’s gotta stop. I’ll leave you alone, and you can fuck as many people as you want on this ship, okay? You can have what you came here for, a week-long hookup, and all I’m asking in return is for one chance. I just want one. fucking. chance. to enjoy myself. Okay?”

His eyes cloud over throughout the duration of your speech, and it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. It’s unsettling, like something’s dimming his spirit, though you can’t tell what. You’ve quipped back at him before, practically every time he’s ever teased you. But perhaps he’s just as unsettled with your newfound sincerity as you were with his, because his face settles into a hesitant expression. You press on.

“You told me earlier that you’re just teasing me, and that you’re not a monster. If that’s true, then leave me alone.”

He looks wounded only by a slight twitch of his eye; perhaps the prospect of being around you and not lunging teeth-bared at your throat is too much to bear. But he nods, slow and rickety like the joints in his neck protest the movement, “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.” You respond stiffly, glad for the menu in your lap as it provides an easy out for you; you’re not sure if you can stand looking him in the eyes. You’re afraid you’ll see disappointment there, perhaps real dislike, and you don’t want to find out that the only reason he speaks to you is to mess around with you. You’re content in feeling like you’re friends as well, and if he gives himself away now that you’ve asked him to ease up on the teasing, you’re not sure you’ll enjoy yourself at all on this vacation, no matter how much cheap, distracting sex you have. The truth of the matter is that you value the blossom of his friendship no matter how thorny it can be, and you’re not sure if he’s capable of playing nice without an occasional bite. 

You’re sure things will go back to normal on the weathered tarmac, but until then, bobbing along on ocean waves, you want Jake Seresin to be your friend, not your frenemy. If he’s incapable, you want no part of him.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[chuluoyi]

heartbreak hotel

- gojo satoru x reader

so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.

genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend

notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)

general masterlist

"He's intolerable!"

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.

When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.

Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.

However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.

Like this time.

"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."

How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.

"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."

"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"

Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?

"Can't I get a refund?"

"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."

You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.

You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.

Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.

"I'm going, duh!"

"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."

"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."

Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”

“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”

He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?

“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”

No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.

And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”

You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”

He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.

“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”

Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.

You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.

“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”

The hell?

A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.

Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.

Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.

But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.

He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.

You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.

And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.

He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.

"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"

His eyes twitched.

What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?

He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.

That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.

"Hey Satoru—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.

Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.

"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"

She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."

Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.

"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"

Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.

"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.

Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.

"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"

You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."

"He really is miserable, you know..."

"Nah, he doesn't look like it."

Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."

You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.

"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."

And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.

As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."

You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"

"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."

"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."

Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.

Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.

Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.

You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.

And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.

Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.

No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.

But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.

And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.

He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?

No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.

Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.

Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.

Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.

He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.

You are calling him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.

How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.

You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.

And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.

That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.

"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.

"Y/N? What? What is it?"

"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"

"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."

"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."

You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.

Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?

"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.

You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."

You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."

Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?

...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.

Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."

There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.

He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.

Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.

Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.

You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?

And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.

"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."

He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.

But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"

He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”

He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.

“…really?”

“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.

“And how will you prove it?”

“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”

It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.

You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”

Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.

“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”

“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.

You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.

Epilogue

“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”

"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."

"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"

Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.

Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"

Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"

[dixons-sunshine]

Come Back To Bed | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

(GIF by @daryl-dixon-daydreams)

A soft, quiet yawn escaped your mouth. You wiped the sleep from your eyes and placed your hands on the counter, your gaze landing on the coffee maker that you had started up a few seconds prior. Coffee—that was another luxury that came with your stay in Alexandria. You hadn’t realized the full extent of your love for coffee until the ability to make yourself a cup of coffee in the mornings was ripped away from you. Now that you had access to a coffee maker and coffee, you weren’t about to take the delicious liquid for granted ever again.

You were waiting for the coffee maker to finish up, contemplating what you were going to make for breakfast when you felt a pair of arms encircle your waist, a warm body pressing up against your back, a face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You didn’t even have to look over your shoulder to know who it was. However, you still did, and you were pleased to find your partner pressed up against your back.

You smiled and placed your hands over his. “Good morning, handsome,” you greeted him, chuckling when he simply grunted in response. “You sleep okay?” You simply got another grunt as a response, eliciting another chuckle from you. “You want some coffee?”

“Nah,” he voiced, finally doing something other than making noncommittal grunts. “I don’ want coffee. I want ya to come back to bed. I ain’t ready to for the day yet.”

This was a pleasant surprise for you. You’ve known Daryl since the early days of the outbreak, dating back all the way to the quarry. He was always the first person up in the mornings and the last person to go to bed at night. He was always rearing to go, to make himself useful. You couldn’t think of a time he had ever wanted to sleep in. This was a side of the archer you had yet to see.

“I can’t,” you began in an apologetic tone. “I have to switch with Glenn for my watch shift soon.”

“He can wait,” Daryl grumbled into the skin of your neck, his arms tightening around you. “Can’t even count how many times he’s been late for somethin’ jus’ ‘cause he was busy with Maggie. He’ll jus’ have to understand.”

You giggled and shook your head, leaning forward to switch off the coffee maker. “I can’t do that, Dar. It’s not fair to him to have to stay longer than what was agreed. You can stay in bed longer if you want to, though.”

“Like hell it ain’t fair. Seems pretty fair to me. And I want ya to come back to bed too. Don’ sleep well without ya there.” Daryl lifted his head from the crook of your neck and spun you around in his embrace. From your new position, you could better appreciate the view of your partner. He was sporting an old, faded Metallica t-shirt with a pair of flannel pants. His hair was messy and you could clearly see the sleep still present in his eyes. He looked rather appetizing, in your opinion. “I don’ care whether or not Glenn throws a hissy fit if yer late or not. Yer comin’ back to bed. S’way too early to function right now.”

“It’s almost 8am.”

“Exactly.”

You shook your head and stepped out of Daryl’s embrace. “I’m sorry, Dar. I can’t.”

A few beats of silence passed. “Then ya leave me no choice,” Daryl finally spoke up again.

You barely had a chance to process his words. You were hoisted up off the ground, your body being laid over your partner’s shoulder. You yelped and laughed simultaneously. “Daryl! You can’t just—”

“‘Course I can. I jus’ did,” he cut you off, patting your rear end once as he descended up the stairs to get to your shared bedroom. “Yer comin’ back to bed. Thought I already mentioned that.”

You knew there was no point in arguing with him. When Daryl sets his mind to something, you knew there was no point in trying to talk him out of it. You’d just have to apologize to Glenn later, and as Daryl placed you down on the bed and clambered over to lay down next to you, holding you tightly from behind, you realized you definitely weren’t about to get out of bed again soon.

And the cup of coffee you were busy making yourself stood long forgotten on the kitchen counter.

[catssluvr]

𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮, emily prentiss

s16/17!emily prentiss x fem!reader

you drunk call emily

warnings: r being suggestive, r is wipped lol, so much fluff 🤍

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

Emily rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, the computer screen in front of her making her eyes sting from the brightness. Working for the FBI was never easy but being unit chef felt like an impossible task sometimes. She hadn´t even noticed everyone leave the office at some point and the way it was pitch black outside, the clock hitting midnight.

The sudden buzz of her phone made her let out a frustrated sigh, but soon her expression turned smiley as she saw the familiar picture of you snuggling sergio against your cheek pop up on her screen. You had went out for a girls night with Pen and JJ at the bar so she could imagine that by now you were probably tipsy - if not slightly more than that. She had been tempted to join you two, especially with you looking at her with puppy dog eyes while begging her to go but she didn´t have other choice but to decline it.

Picking up the device, she quickly answered the call with a sweet, "Hey angel, what's up?" Not missing the way your drunk giggles sounded immediately after.

"Ems, hi!" You said, making an effort to sound composed but failing miserably. "I miss you sooo much." You stated between giggles and Emily could hear Garcia´s voice teasing you for being so lovey.

"Yeah, love?" She mumbled softly, still trying to figure out the reason behind this random call but having a light guess.

"Mhm, so much 'Mily." Your words were slured and she had to hold the urge to chuckle at the state you were currently in.

"Well, i miss you too. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" She asked, pressing the phone against her ear and supporting it her shoulder as she closed her laptop.

"Uhmm.." Your voice showed confusion before JJ whispered something to you, what Emily assumed was her reminding you of the reason behind the call. "Oh- right! Could you please pick me up? I know you're working- i'm so sorry-"

"I'll be on my way, angel. Stay right where you are, kay?" She interrupted your rambling before you could continue, keeping her voice as soft as possible. She did have work to do, but truth is you were way more important than all that. And she already felt bad enough for turning you down earlier.

"Kay Ems.. love you." You whispered with a hiccup.

"I love you, now stay close to Garcia and JJ and i'll be there in no time." She said before hanging up and quickly gathering her things before leaving the office.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

You huffed grumply, sleepines hitting you as you burried your face in Penelope's shoulder. Your mind was hazy, only thing in your mind being Emily as you waited for her outside the bar. Even if the alcohol in your blood was making everything feel more dramatic than it was, you did miss her.

"Don't worry peach, she'll be here soon." Pen comforted you, runing a hand through your hair with her colorful nails.

You sniffled softly, the booze and sleepiness making you overly emotional. But before the tears started breaming in your eyes, you catched the glimpse of the gray haired woman walking out of her car and walk towards you.

"Ems! You're heree-" You ran to hug her, fingers grabing her long coat and nose nuzzling her neck and collarbone. "You smell so so good, always do." You mumbled innocently, ignoring the two girls standing right there and focusing on the way Emily's chest moved as she chuckled at your clinginess.

"Hello to you too, angel. Ready to go?" Her hands gently tucked the strands of hair that fell on your face behind your ears, giving you a pleased smile when you nod. "You two need a ride home?" She asked the two girls standing in front of you.

"Nah we´re okay, just felt like a good idea to call you to come and get your lighthead girlfriend." JJ chuckled and Penelope soon followed, quickly sending you goodbyes before disappearing into the bar again.

"Weirdos." Emily snorted with a smile before her atention returned to you. You were currently pressed up against her, your arms had sneaked their way inside her coat in attempt to warm yourself up from the chilly weater of the night.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get you inside the car so you can warm up." She pulled you with her as you both started walking towards the car, struggling slightly as you were holding onto her arm like a koala.

"You're so pretty Ems, did ya know?" You pressed pecks to her jaw as you spoke, cheeks pink from the booze. Your gestures were no suprise to her, you tended to get overly affectionate when drunk. "I love eyes and your cute lips..." You went on as you pressed kisses against her cheek and the corner of her lips.

"Yeah? What else?" She urged you to continue, her voice humurous as you approached the car.

"Oh- your hair, love your hair. Looks so good like this." Your fingers clumsly played with her silver hair, lovingly gazing at her. Emily knew exactly what you meant by this, she had been reluctant to embrace the natural color of it but now she wouldn't even think of painting it again, not after the way you looked at her.

She guided you inside the car, gently kissing your forehead as she buckled your seatbelt. "Ugh and your nose- so pretty- gorgeous. Dunno how you could ever not like it. It feels so good when you´re-"

"Okay love i think i got it, thank you." She interrupted before you could get any further with details, but you didn't fail to notice the way her cheeks reddened at your last unfinished phrase, giggling at her sudden shyness.

As soon as she got in the driver's seat, your hand was grabbing hers, playing with her fingers as an effort to stay awake. Your eyes droppy and your head slightly lulling to the side - which she couldn't help but chuckle at before her eyes focused on the road ahead.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

Unlocking the door to her appartment, Emily turned on the lights before pulling you to her room. You jumped on her bed before she could try to stop you, snuggling up to the pillow she slept in. "Hey none of that, we have to change your clothes and take off that makeup." She grabbed your calves as gently as possible, pulling you to edge of the bed, giving you a look that you knew meant she wasn't gonna let you sleep before you did what she said.

"Ugh okay, mom." You sassed before dragging yourself to her closet, rummaging through her pyjamas. "But just so you know, i'm using your clothes." You mumbled out with a joking tone.

"I'll get you some water." She said as she exited the room.

When she got back she was not suprise to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, half asleep with an unused makeup wipe in you hand.

"Here, let me do that angel." She sighed and took the wipe from you, softly wiping your makeup with one hand as the other held your head so she could sucessfully clean your face.

"All done." She mumbled after a momet, tapping your thigh as she helped you out of the counter. Her hands softly rubbed your arms before leading you into the bedroom and inside the comfy covers of her bed.

After making you take a few sips of water, she joined you in the bed, puling you against her chest. Her arms wrapped around your hips, gently running her fingers up and down the fabric of her your pyjamas.

"Thank you for taking care of me, i love you Em." You whispered sleepily before falling into slumber, head nestled against her chest and finger lightly grabbing at her shirt.

"I love you, sweet girl." She smiled against your hair, her own eyes starting to feel heavy.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

a/n: i wrote this when i was sick and i lowkey hate it 😭

anyway emily deserves some love and hapiness in these last few seasons so i had to 🫶🏻

love you,

cat 🤍

[tonyboneysblog]

curiosity kills the cat: one shot!

parings: Touya x reader

word count: 1.3k

notes: this was originally gonna be a part in a fanfic I was cooking but i genuinely could not figure out how to write childhood friends with Dabi’s crisped ass.

warnings: none!

summary: Touya always sees kissing in movies, all dramatic and lovey dovey, is it really his fault that he wants to try it on you? just to see how it feels of course!

“this movie fucking sucks.”

“language Touya.”

currently, you were at the treacherous Todoroki household.

Why? You may be asking.

Because you wanted to watch a movie, 27 dresses specifically.

Unfortunately for Touya Todoroki, he’s your only friend to watch the movie with.

now the two of you have been friends since pre-school, kids bullied you- Touya saved you.

you stuck around him after that, much to his dismay.

“Why would you make me watch this garbage.” Touya says harshly.

You huff loudly, “to see if your cold, dark heart had anything in it.”

Touya giggles at your little comment, you liked his laugh.

you wanted to watch this movie for a week, practically begged Touya on your knees for him to even watch it with you.

Touya doesn’t enjoy cheesy rom-coms.

He’s made that quite clear throughout this whole movie.

when the two main characters tried on the dresses he complained.

when they went to the bar together, he complained.

when the characters sang at the bar, he complained then too.

yet when they kissed, Touya didn’t even open his mouth.

“yuck- want me to skip?” You say for Touya’s sake.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking, “nah, it’s just a kiss.”

“What- you’re suddenly cool with lovey dovey stuff now?” your face is set perplexed.

Touya shrugs, “I see it in TV all the time, why should I care?”

You hum softly, “adults kiss too much.”

Touya hums in agreement, his foot starting to steadily tap.

the movie continues, you catch Touya scoff at one of the movies jokes, he seems to be…actually interested.

but that damn tapping won’t stop.

Doesn’t his leg get tired when he does that?

Finally, at the end of the movie the two main lead get married, and the main actress has her 27 bridesmaids.

cute movie.

“Did you like it Touy?” you ask with excitement bubbling inside your chest.

He responds bluntly, “No- terrible movie.”

“Liar- that was the most I’ve ever seen you pay attention to something!” You point an accusing finger towards him.

Touya swatted your finger away, “I was waiting for the guy to murder the girl.”

“What?!” You retract your finger quickly.

Touya shakes his head as if it were obvious, “He had serial killer vibes..”

You sit there on the couch utterly silent from the words that just came out of Touya’s mouth.

His brows furrow slightly, “What?”

“Nothing, weirdo..”

Touya melts into the couch, picking up the remote and scrolling through the streaming apps choices.

“Any thing else you’d like to watch?”

“Being a gentleman I see?” You hum.

Touya chuckles softly, never responding.

The room is on a comfortable silence for the moment, aside from Touya tapping his foot against the glass table his feet are propped on.

Touya’s foot staggers, “Why do you think adults kiss?”

“Because they like it.” You answer quickly.

Touya shakes his head softly, “yeah but why, why do they like it?”

“Why would I know the answer to that.”

Touya glares at your for a moment, “oh please- your parents basically make out all the time when I’m over.”

“So that means I should know why they like it?” You pick at the fur blanket that was thrown over you prior to starting the movie.

Touya hums a small, “yep” before his foot starts to tap again.

“Didn’t think you were so affected by the kissing scene…” you say under your breath, Touya heard anyway.

“I-I wasn’t affected, I’m just curious on what’s so good about it.” He says quickly, the tapping increasing.

You seriously doubt Touya’s even looking at the tittles on the screen by how fast he’s tapping the remote button.

“Well I wouldn’t know…”

Touya stays quiet for a moment, thinking.

probably about something stupid.

“We could know.”

yep, something stupid.

“What you implying Touya?” You elbow his ribs, making him yelp.

“Ow- I’m saying that…nevermind.” Touya rubs his ribs softly, dropping the remote next to you.

“I mean…you’re just curious right?”

Touya looks up at you, the tapping gets faster.

“Yeah- Why…?”

You pick up the remote, looking it over to act like your doing anything else other that what your about to do.

“We could- do it..” you say quiet and soft.

Touya doesn’t respond, the tapping stopped at least.

suddenly, Touya grabs the remote from your hand- setting it aside.

“We could.”

Great, now you’re forced to look at your best friend.

“Yeah?” You say barely loud enough for Touya to pick up.

Touya nods, his foot starting to steadily tap again.

You cup Touya’s face with your hands- oh gosh are you really doing this?

Touya places his hands on your lap, truthfully he has no clue where to put them.

the taps get faster.

You and Touya look at each-other for a moment, just to make sure you don’t absolutely ruin your friendship.

More like a “you really wanna do this?” stare.

but hey, you were curious.

so was Touya.

1 + 1 = 2.

Two kissing more specifically.

“Jus’ do it already..” Touya says quietly, his face growing red.

You press your lips to Touya’s, it was..nice? soft? kinda gross.

Touya’s lips were quite soft actually, he’d wear chap stick like he’d wear clothes though- he hated dry lips.

Touya’s hand steadily went to your cheeks as well, only difference was his were a lot warmer.

At some point, Touya’s tapping stopped.

you a Touya didn’t though, it’s normal for friends to experience things together- how is a kiss any different?

Your cheeks felt so warm.

wait no- that’s Touya’s quirk.

You starting patting Touya’s thigh as a signal to chill out.

And he got the memo, only after a minute.

You and Touya were only slightly out of breath- you might have 1st degree burns on your cheeks though.

“M’sorry…?” Touya says with his dumb cracky voice.

“you burned my cheeks.” You say curtly.

Touya groans, “I didn’t know I activated my quirk!”

“I’m never kissing you again.” Your tone gets slightly aggressive.

Touy burned your precious face though- so he deserves it.

“I said I didn’t-“

A sudden laughter breaks through Touya’s speak, one that didn’t belong to him.

You whip your head to the door way only to see Touya’s siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi.

Natsuo is holding onto his stomach, dying with laughter while Fuyumi looks mildly disappointed- more like embarrassed.

“Touya-nii…” Fuyumi says softly.

Touya’s face goes completely red, even reaching his ears.

“You didn’t see a thing.” Touya says sternly.

Natsuo laughs more as he grabs Fuyumi, “dude we saw everything!”

Fuyumi covers her face and Natsuo starts to re-create the scene.

“Oh-la-la! Y/N please kiss me I’m so desperate!” Natsuo says through his giggles.

You can see steam coming from Touya as he jumps over the couch to get to Natsuo.

Natsuo sees this and starts to book it.

So now you have a wild Touya and a trouble making Natsuo in the house.

Fuyumi looks at you, then runs to her room- poor girl doesn’t even wanna face you.

how are family dinners your invited to supposed to go now?

curiosity kills the cat you suppose.

and you are the cat in this situation.

EP:

“Mrs. Rei, this is absolutely delicious!” You say while crunching down on whatever Touya’s mother made for the night.

Touya hums in agreement, basically halfway through his second plate.

Natsuo chuckles before speaking, “maybe you should ask her for some cooking lessons Y/N- mom’s experienced.”

Rei smiles softly, “thank you, Natsuo.”

Natsuo immediately gains the most devious smile you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Maybe some kissing lessons as well, since you and Touya like that too.”

Immediately silence hits the table.

Touya immediately slams his blow onto the table.

Natsuo runs for his life down the hallway as Touya almost jumps over the table to catch him.

As soon as the boys leave the room your met with a stone faced Rei.

you clear your throat.

“Fuyumi can vouch for me, me and Touya would never do something so sinful!”

Rei chuckles softly, “Fuyumi told me when I came home…”

You whip your head to Fuyumi as she takes her leave, doesn’t wanna face your wrath.

you look towards rei again, sweating bullets as you hear Natsuo screaming bloody murder from two rooms over.

“w-we we’re just curious!”

AN: yall need smth after whatever the hell that episode was😭

[ofstarsandvibranium]

A Day in the Life...

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: You're hired to be famous actor, Bucky Barnes' social media manager. This is probably the best and worst job you've ever gotten because Bucky gives you free reign of his social media but also...you may or may not be crushing on Bucky aka your boss. Based off my imagine here.

A/N: this is 3,180 words because i refused to break it up into parts. anyway, ENJOY!

You press record and begin to narrate, "A Day in the Life of a Social Media Manager for a Super Big and Popular Actor *Working Title*"

You face the camera to you and continue to speak, "Bucky had some morning meetings but I wasn't allowed to film. So now here he is doing his daily workout."

You pan the camera to him and he says, "Hi," with a shy smile.

You snort, stopping the recording, "What?"

"This is..." he gestures to you and your work phone, "awkward."

"Then don't make it awkward! And hey, you said I had free reign! I asked your followers what they'd like to see and they say they want a glimpse of your daily life."

His brows furrow, "Didn't you just say this is a day in the life of a social media manager?"

You shrug, "The poll was tied to seeing your daily life and my daily life working for you. So I just decided to put the two together. Anyway, the title is a work in progress. We'll see how this does and go from there. Anyway, just ignore me. I'm not even here."

Bucky gets back to his work out. He has an outdoor and indoor set up. Because the weather was nice, he decided to do his workout outside...shirtless.

He goes to the lifting station, picking up some weights. You begin to narrate again, but this time in a Steve Irwin impression, "Right. Now watch as the esteemed actor gets ready to work out his arms in preparation for an awesome movie that I'm not allowed to mention."

Bucky lets out a chuckle, dropping the weights and looking back at you, "You filming a nature documentary now?" he rests his hands on his hips and smirks at you in a way that makes you want to melt.

You give a playful yet dramatic sigh, dropping your filming arm down, "Are you this difficult with your directors, Barnes?"

He shakes his head, "Nah. None of my directors have been as dorky as you."

You stick your tongue out at him, "Fine. I'll leave you to your workout."

"No, hey, I was joking! Don't leave me!"

You shake your head, "It's fine, Bucky. I'll leave you to it. I'll chalk up some other videos we could do. Also, the getty images from last night's premiere are up. Did you want to look through them before I post?"

He shakes his head, "I trust your judgement." he turns around, his bare back facing you. You stay and watch as he do a few arm curls and immediately rush back into his home.

"Get it together, Y/N," you mumble to yourself, leaving your boss to his workout.

________________________

During Bucky's fitting for New York's Fashion Week, you were allowed to take some behind the scenes pictures. You have a few candid ones of Bucky standing in front of a mirror, his stylist fixing his collar, and him looking at the different shoe options.

Then you included some goofy ones where he copies a pose of a mannequin, a selfie of you two showing of your shoe choices (his being very fancy and yours being your regular sneakers), and then a selfie of him wearing a pair of sunglasses without a lens.

You posted all of them after fashion week was over and his Instagram followers were LOVING it.

bbarnesfan: STAHP. he's so adorable.

xbucky-muncher: he went from serious to dork. get you a man who can do both.

notyouraveragebuckyfan: ok but him and his social media manager are so cute together???

bbarnesfan replies: they're literally bucky's employee. don't be weird.

notyouraveragebuckyfan replies: i'm just saying! they seem like they have great chemistry! have you seen the tiktoks and reels of them together?

"How come you put the candids and the selfies all in one post?" Bucky asks as he looks through the latest post you made.

You're scrolling through the analytics of the last tiktok you two made, one where he guesses if one of his characters said a specific line or it's made up.

You take note of the demographics, the comments, etc. to be mindful of for the next posts you make.

Without looking up from your laptop, you answer, "It shows people the different sides of you. How you take things seriously but you can also have fun with it."

He hums, "Lots of people think we look cute together." He says this in hopes of getting some sort of reaction from you.

You continue to work, not looking back at them, "Don't pay attention to those comments. The internet will make up all kinds of stuff."

Bucky's shoulders sag a bit as he replies, "Yeah. You're right."

You'd been working for him for almost a year now. He doesn't see you every day like he did when you first were hired on. Now you only come over twice a week to go over analytics with his team and to shoot some content. Most of the time, you work from your place and Bucky's been feeling more lonely ever since.

Your presence brightened his day and you provided a breath of fresh air on his busier days. He genuinely enjoyed your company and liked making content with you. He liked learning more about you, having meals together, and just being with you. He thought that maybe there was something there between you, but then he'd be reminded that you're his employee and he's your boss. It can't work out.

But there were some glimpsed of hope. You'd look at Bucky a certain way or make a comment that seemed a little more flirty. It had to mean something, right? But whenever Bucky tried to push a little more, you'd pull away and he hated it. It was so complicated.

He wanted you as more than an employee but his team clocked him on his feelings and told him not to fuck it up because you've helped Bucky's image immensely.

He can't fuck this up, not matter how much his heart yearns for more.

___________________________

"Hello, hello!" you greet Bucky, handing him his coffee as he lets you into his home. You've been working for him for over a year. It's one out of the two days you come over to do work with him.

His stylist, Michael, was nice enough to bring some clothes over for a TikTok video that you had which was "My Social Media Manager Picks Out My Next Event Outfit".

The next event that Bucky needs to make an appearance in is his friend, Nat's, movie premiere. The dress code is very formal so it's no surprise to see various kinds of formal wear.

What does surprise you is that you see a rack of clothes that you know wouldn't be for Bucky.

"Um...what's this?"

He grins widely at you, "Clothes for you to choose from."

Your brows shoot up in surprise, "Excuse me?"

"You said you've always wanted to go to one right? You're coming with me."

"As your social media manager?"

"You're not working the event. You're going as my plus one."

"Uuuuhhh..."

"You don't have to, but I was hoping to bring you as, ya know, a thank you for all the amazing work you've done for me this past year."

You can't help but snort, "Bucky, c'mon, did all of your usuals reject you or something?"

"You're the only person I've asked right now. Come on, Y/N, please?"

You want to. You really, really want to. But these past few months, you and Bucky have been toeing the line between a work relationship and something more. You're not sure if going as his plus one to the premiere is a good idea, especially since even more people have been commenting on your chemistry.

But Bucky's looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and he's pouting and he looks so cute, so how could you say no?

"I'll think about it," you reply and it seems to appease Bucky because he smiles again and says, "Okay. But I really do hope you'll go. It'll be fun, plus you've met Nat. She thinks you're cool."

You scoff, "There's no way Natasha Romanoff, the hottest and most popular actress right now, thinks I'm cool."

He shrugs, "Everyone thinks you're cool. It's hard to not like you, Y/N, trust me," he gives you a wink and it makes your cheeks warm up, "Anyway, so let's see what we got."

You wordlessly nod, going over to set up your work phone to begin filming.

________________________

You think you did really well with picking out Bucky's outfit. It was a royal blue velvet jacket with a black bow tie, and black slacks. Even Michael was impressed with your choice.

Even though you weren't working tonight, you still took some pictures and clips just in case. You took a video of the reveal of your look tonight and can't help but feel bubbly inside when Bucky wouldn't stop looking at you.

To distract yourself, you decided to take candids of Bucky getting his hair done after you were finished getting ready. He kept making funny faces at you, making you laugh.

After you both were ready, you took some mirror selfies, obviously, and sent them to Bucky afterwards.

You're in the car on the way to the premiere when you get a bunch of texts and notifications from people:

Wanda: I KNOW YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO THE PREMIERE BUT YOU DIDN'T SAY AS BUCKY'S DATE!

Pietro: good luck tonight! use protection! ;D

Carol: since when are you dating bucky barnes???

You unlock your phone but see a notification that Bucky tagged you in a post you didn't know he was going to make.

It was the mirror selfies you two took, with the caption: got the most gorgeous date on my arm tonight.

You immediately turn to Bucky, eyes narrowing, "James Buchanan Barnes."

"...I don't like how you just used my government name like that."

"Why would you post those selfies of us?!"

He shrugs, "Because we look great."

"And the caption?"

"It's true. You're gorgeous."

You groan and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Your publicist and manager are gonna kill me."

"No, they won't."

"They hired me to make sure your online presence is good and won't jeopardize your career."

"Nothing's gonna happen, Y/N."

"People already assume we're together because of how well we work together. It was fine to let them speculate because but that post will make things even worse."

"How?"

"People will think I'm a gold digger? That I got this job because we're sleeping together? I don't know! The internet makes up all kinds of fucked up reasons and I won't be able to get work ever again!"

"But is it so bad that people think we're together?"

"For you, it won't be bad. For me, it could be. So, please, Bucky, delete those photos before even more people see it."

Bucky's jaw clenches and mumbles out, "Fine. I'm sorry," he takes out his phone and you watch as he deletes the photos off his instagram. Tonight was supposed to be fun, but you're sure you just ruined it.

____________________

The entire night was awkward. Bucky did his best to still include you in conversations he had with friends and colleagues, but you felt the tension between you two. You did your best to enjoy it as much as you can. You saw Nat for a brief moment where you hugged her and congratulate her. She said she wanted to chat later but you didn't really expect much. This is her premiere and she has other priorities.

She proved you wrong, however, during the after party where she pulled you to an area for more privacy.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Um, good. A little overwhelmed, but, uh, tonight's been...fun."

She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at you, just like her character did in the movie, and you can't help but let the truth spill, "I freaked out on Bucky on the way here. He posted pictures of us that insinuate we're together and I don't want it to result in me getting fired and potentially never getting a job like this ever again."

"Yeah, I saw that before he deleted it. You guys looked cute. Also, are you two not dating?"

"What? No! He's literally my boss!"

She shrugs, "Could've fooled me. Anyway, there's something clearly going on between you two, right?"

"I, uh, I don't know what to say. Do I have feelings for him? Yes. But will I act on them? No. Again, he's my boss, I'm his employee. I really like this job too, so I can't risk anything."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming."

"...but he's so amazingly funny, smart, hot, understanding, compassionate, and I just love spending time with him. It's so fucked, Nat.

She nods in understanding, "I know, hon. I'm gonna say the most cliche thing ever, but listen to your heart. I'm sure you'll find another job just as fun as this one, but to be with someone you click so well with? That doesn't come often."

"Hey, you okay?" Bucky comes up from behind, placing a hand on your hip and looking at you with concern.

Nat flashes him a smile, "Just wanted to catch up with them, but I've hogged up your date long enough, Barnes." she turns back to you, "Think about what I said, okay? Enjoy the rest of your night and thanks for coming," she hugs you and heads back out to the party.

Bucky nods to her and stands in front of you, "Did you want to stay longer or are you ready to go?"

"I think I'm ready to go for the night."

"Alright." you follow him out to the front where you wait for the driver to pick you guys up. He stands beside you with his hands in his pockets, wearing that gorgeous outfit you chose.

"I'm sorry again about the pictures."

"Thank you, I'm sorry I attacked you like that."

He shakes his head, "Don't be. I get why you did. But, um, we're good?"

You nod, "Yeah, Bucky, we're good."

"Good," he gives you a shy smile and then points at the upcoming car, "Our ride's here." As soon as the SUV pulls up, he opens the door for you and lets you go in first. He follows and the drive home is in silence.

_________________________

You're working in your little alcove at Bucky's when he approaches you, "Hey, I need to talk to you about something."

You turn in your chair and look up at him, "This doesn't sound good."

"It's good and bad."

"Um, okay?" you clasp your hands together in your lap in anxiousness.

"So...I'm hiring a different social media manager."

Your heart drops, "Wh-What? But-But I thought I was doing well. Your team said I was doing a good job. What happened?"

"You are, but lemme also add that there's another job already waiting for you."

"Bucky, I'm so confused right now. Are you firing me? Or contracting me to someone else?"

"I'm firing you because I can't date an employee."

You straighten up at his statement, "Excuse me?"

Bucky steps closer to you, reaching out and grabbing your hand, "It's just...shit, Y/N, you gotta know how I feel about you right?"

You bite your lip in nervousness, "Maybe."

He lets out a long sigh and run a hand through his cropped hair, "Listen, I like you. A lot. That's the real reason I wanted you to come with me to the premiere. I love spending time with you and I've been so much happier since you've started working for me. To be honest, I didn't know how much longer I could keep myself from wanting to be with you. So to still make sure your professionalism was in tact, I reached out to Nat to see if she was in need of an amazing social media manager and, luckily, she was."

"I'm gonna work for Nat? Nat wants me to work for her?"

Bucky nods, "She does. So you'll be working for her which means I'm not longer your boss. Which means...will you go on a date with me?"

Fuck it. Fuck it all. You held in your feelings for Bucky for so long and now you've been given a loophole to be with him.

"I like you too, Bucky. So much, I didn't say anything, obviously, because I wanted to remain professional, but fuck did you make it hard to not fall for you."

Bucky snickers with a smirk, "I can say the same thing about you." His thumb caresses the back of your hand and it feels so right.

"Have you actually hired someone to take over for me?"

"Not officially, but I have some applicants already. Why? Do you know someone?"

You nod, "I do. She just graduated college with a degree in communications with a concentration in social media. I can have her send in an application, but I one hundred percent vouch for her. She's done great work."

"Alright. I trust you, but I don't think I can find anyone who works as well as you do."

"I fucking hope not. Or else you might leave me for them!"

"Never," Bucky replies confidently with a softness in his voice and adoration in his eyes.

"So...about that date..."

_______________________

"Come with me to work for a popular actor!" Kamala narrates her latest TikTok.

"So Bucky is working on a new movie with Natasha Romanoff so for promo we're filming a bunch of different content!" Nat and Bucky wave at the camera.

"After filming all of that, they're off to a photoshoot. Here are some of the potential outfits they can wear." the camera pans to several racks of clothing.

"There's a lunch break and here's my lunch versus Bucky's lunch," Kamala's plate is pasta while Bucky's roast chicken, "The boss needs to bulk up for another role so he needs a lot of protein."

"And that's all that I can show you for today. Until next time, bye!"

You scroll to the comments and they're immediately flooded with"

you're not y/n???

wait, did y/n quit?! did bucky fire them?! no!

what happened to y/n?!

and so on.

You snort and show Bucky, who was cuddling you from behind, "I told you people would notice."

He peers over your shoulder to look at your phone, "Kamala actually had an idea for that."

_________________

"A Day in the Life of an Actor's Social Media Manager. Part...whatever. So we're doing more promo stuff for Bucky and Nat's new movie. But this time I'm also working with Nat's social media manager, Y/N! We're doing a What's in the Box Challenge and here's a clip of Bucky freaking out."

"IT'S MOVING! WHY IS IT MOVING?!"

"Also look at Bucky and Y/N. They're so cute together. And yes, guys, they're totally dating now which is why Y/N no longer works for Bucky. ANYWAY..."

[voxisdaddy]

Sweets

C/TW: Mentions of sex but otherwise nothing bad.

Nah but imagine Vox knowing you have a crush on him and he’s thinking like, yeah I could take advantage of this—meaning ‘hell yeah I get laid and an attractive partner? Sign me up’. Regardless of what your relationship with him is, he is interested and down to fuck and have a possible sexual relationship with you from here on out. So he makes his move by inviting you to his personal living quarters in the Vee Tower. You walk in, heart fluttering about at the prospect your crush wanting to spend time with you, and are quickly met with Vox. He of course puts the moves on you; charming smirk, the correct choice of words, arm wrapping around your hips or your waist as he pulls you in closer to him. He hints at something—a burning desire. You’re flustered in his arms. He’s thinking, yeah he’s got this in the bag. But then you push on his chest and unwrap yourself from his arm. Wait what? “Vox,”—You’d start, “I’m flattered but…I’m not that kind of person.” You then excuse yourself and before Vox knows it, he’s standing alone in his living quarters. You’re into him? He knows this. What happened? Despite his annoyances with the results, he still persists. He spends the next several weeks trying to seduce you, flirting with you very sexually—not Valentino level but still sexually charged. Yet every time he gets shot down. One day he’s ranting to Velvette about it to which she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “Is sex the only thing you can think about?” Velvette whips out her phone, pulling up your social media pages, all your likes, comments, reposts, music playlists, shows and movies you watch, ect,. “They’re a romantic—A fucking sweet one at that. Taking advantage of their feelings just so you can get your dick wet whenever you want isn’t gonna get you anywhere, darling.” Vox spends a few days thinking it over. Okay so a more romantic approach. But he tried inviting you over! He even set the mood and everything. Though it was with the hope that…it would quickly lead to having you naked on his bed. He probably has some sort of mental war with himself about it too. Like why’s he trying so hard? It isn’t until he spots you on one of his cameras where he realizes he may want something much more than just sex with you. But is it too late? Did all his attempts at wooing you really scare you away? He watched with bated breath as you sat on a water fountain, gingerly typing away on your phone. You were wearing the loveliest looking spring dress/shirt. You looked so…beautiful. So sweet. So innocent. And romantic. A type of romance that seemed like it didn’t exist in hell. He was so mesmerized he didn’t even realize a second figure coming to sit next to you. He only realized when you put your phone down and smiled sweetly at the person. Who was this person? Why are you so close together? Why do you look like you’re blushing—? Oh. It’s a date.

As a hopeless romantic, reading Vox x Reader fics and so many of them having some kind of sexual undertone or more mature tone makes me kind of sad. I truly love tooth rotting fluffy romance. Think—picnic in a cherry blossom field while wearing the strawberry dress. So I wanted to write a little (not so little, it kinda got away from me) imagine where Vox’s idea of romance clashes with readers and it ends up only pushing them away. So yeah. Here’s that. I mean no disrespect to everyone’s fics of them tho—trust me they’re delicious in every way possible but I just really need to feed my hopeless sweet romantic side for a bit <3

[evansboyfriend]

hello 911blr here's another little snippet of my fake dating au. it's going so slowly. but at least it's going!

Buck catches his attention pretty much right away − Tommy’s gaze is immediately drawn to his ridiculously plump, pink mouth, before taking in the rest of the picture. He’s frowning at the camera, almost like seeing his own reflection mirrored on his phone’s screen through the front-facing lens is offending him, somehow, and why would this guy choose that picture to be front-and-centre on his dating profile? Still, his messy, curly hair, and the scruff on his jawline, and − the ridiculous lips − are hard to resist. Tommy taps to check out the rest of his pictures. In one, he’s clean-shaven, wearing a white hoodie, smiling so big and bright, his gaze somewhere behind the camera, probably fixed on whoever was taking the picture; then there’s another frowny selfie right after that, taken inside a car, with a seatbelt across his chest and a black Labrador resting his little head on the guy’s shoulder, and okay, that’s fucking adorable. Tommy can’t help but smile − but that only lasts until he reads the guy’s bio.

hello grindr i’m not gay (but i’m an ally!) anyway i need a fake boyfriend to be my date to my parents’ stupid anniversary party because they told me not to bring “another new girlfriend” so i’m just trying to comply with their request :-)  in return you will get an all-you-can-eat-buffet and open bar. or anything else you want (short of sexual favours)

Yeah, that tracks. These wholesome-looking guys always come with at least one red flag. And this is a fucking massive one. 

Tommy bites down on his lower lip and tells himself he’s not actually thinking about messaging, but he knows he’s lying to himself. He tries to weigh the pros and cons for all of five minutes before he thinks, fuck it, and decides to send a message. What’s the worst that could happen? With a deep exhale, Tommy taps on the little message button and types out the only logical opener he can think of.

tommy: if you can prove you’re not a catfish, i’m more than happy to be your fake date

buck: how do i prove i’m not a catfish? buck: you can look me up on instagram. i’m buckley92

tommy: hah, nah, that won’t do. it’s gonna have to be a dickpic i’m afraid. with today’s newspaper of your choice.

buck: who the fuck is still buying newspapers buck: fine. give me half an hour

Tommy puts his phone aside with the biggest grin on his face. If nothing else, it’s been entertaining, at least so far. He still doubts this guy is real, or his request for a fake boyfriend isn’t just a thinly veiled excuse for a curious-but-still-firmly-heterosexual guy to go venturing in the most notorious dating app for queer men − which is entirely unnecessary. 

He gets to his feet and goes about cleaning up the mess in the kitchen he’s been successfully ignoring for the last 24 hours, and puts a load of laundry on, knowing he’s running out of clean underwear, and he’s settled back on his comfy couch, ready to dive back into Small Town Horror when his phone pings with a new notification, and Tommy grins when he sees it’s another message from Buck.

It’s a selfie of the same man from the profile pictures, and instantly Tommy exhales with relief. He looks a little different in this picture; younger, somehow, and it might have something to do with the haircut he’s currently sporting, and the lack of product in his dark blonde hair, letting the curls loose. Tommy wants to run a hand through his hair, but he files that away into a far away corner of his mind, as his gaze drops to the dramatically pouty expression on Buck’s face. He’s holding a copy of Los Angeles Times, which has the words “TOMMY FROM GRINDR MADE ME DO THIS” written across the front page in thick black marker. There’s a message sent right after the selfie that reads “will this do or… do you still need the dick pic?”

tagging some interested people

@osh-my-prince @apartmentsmoke @repressedqueen @jewishbuckley and i can't remember who else i might have talked to about this???? if interested in future updates drop me a comment and i'll tag you🫶

[eloquent-edits]

🗡️ “I can assure you, we are just friends.”

definitely not something that’s a little more than friends 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts

While Person A is chatting with their friends, Person B sidles up to A and subtly trails a finger up their spine (does A stutter? go completely silent at the electricity going through their body? start to get red but manage to keep their composure? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS)

B begs A to not leave any marks because they just can’t let this secret get out

For that beach episode: A takes off their shirt, exposing scratch marks from a recent session… B hides a sly grin as A is questioned about who they’re with

A is very physically affectionate in general, but has fallen into the habit of only bothering B in public with it

^ A wants to interact with B in many ways and just ends up biting their arm jokingly to satiate that desire (yes, their friends think this is weird)

B needs to be held accountable for finishing their work, so A comes over to hang out… they do not get work done for a while

At a party, B can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when they spot A flirting with someone

A’s childhood friend is in town and A is super excited to have them meet B (B is quietly panicking over making a good impression and wondering what A has said about them)

A and B are in the same anatomy class and they spend a lot of time studying together (A is most certainly a hands-on learner hehehehe)

“Is that B’s shirt?” “What? Oh, uh, yes… My shirt got dirty the last time I was over there so they’re washing mine for me.”

“Is that A’s shirt?” “Yes. What about it?” “…Does A know you have their shirt?” “Nope!”

They really only planned on the midnight rendezvous, not falling asleep afterwards, so A and B go get morning coffee together (they are both very grumpy but still enjoying each other’s company)

Inside jokes during sexy times bleed into their normal banter, leading to some questionable looks from their friends

A gets a little drunk and B expects them to slip up and expose their true relationship, but instead A is very wholesome and remains steadfast on their boundaries; B is so proud of them for this

B is desperately trying to get something off their mind, so A offers a distraction for the night… it’s Mario Kart and whoever loses owes the other a favor

Any of their plans to go out have to include wiggle room in case they get preoccupied (soon it’s not just B that’s always late to events)

While their friends are occupied in another room, A and B intertwine their bodies and try to stay quiet—key word here is TRY

“I bet A would really like [insert kink here]…” “Nah, they’re not really into that.” “How the fuck do you know that?”

All their friends take the BDSM test as a joke and A and B secretly take notes on what the other person likes/dislikes to make the benefits side better

If given the choice, A will always pick the seat next to B so they can tease them under the table

During a passionate session, A accidentally draws blood while gripping B’s back (A apologizes over and over while tending to B, who just has a shit-eating grin the whole time)

Whenever B cracks yet another terrible joke, A has to refrain from kissing it off their face

A and B take a break from the benefits whenever one of them wants to pursue someone else (your characters can have healthy boundaries and communication!!! I am BEGGING y’all to write characters that actually communicate with each other)

[cdbabymp3]

𐙚editor!reader hc's ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: sfw and nsfw portions !! reader is hamzah's roomie :3

**for this dynamic i also made reader and hamzah both virgins, which comes up in these hc's and will come up more in the future if that's smth y'all want me to elaborate on!**

chat i think im back .......

(sfw)

-getting constantly shouted out in vlogs

"shout out, y/n, our editor. she's on the front lines going through all this footage for you, slushies, yall better be grateful."

-eventually face revealing by being on an episode of the pod. it's titled smth like 'and they were roomates' or 'editor reveal (real)' idk

-the whole pod episode hamzah keeps looking at you every time you speak and 'accidentally' touches your thigh

-there's so many fan accs on tiktok that clip it and air tf out of him 😭😭😭😭

-hazmah tries to explain the dynamic of living with his editor on the pod, but even he doesn't know exactly what it is (and neither do you)

-as unprofessional as it may seem, somehow it works

-hamzah never lets you do all the work. he always offers to help you out when you're starting to get tired or in a slump

"hamzah, it's my job. lemme just finish this-"

"nah, you're clocking out for the night. you've been dismissed." he shoos you away from your shared work desk that you've been sitting at for hours

-as unprofessional as it is, you can't deny how massive of a fucking crush you have on him....especially when he pulls that domestic shit on you

-when you're exhausted from editing, he'll make you food or take you on a late night drive for ice cream in your pj's

-grocery shopping omg he loves that shit so bad !! on sundays you guys go to the store and hit up the farmer's markets downtown. hamzah gets excited every time, he'll wake up hella early each time he's so cute :,)

-if you're not from toronto or canada, he'll show you around his favorite places. in general, he's just happy to have someone to share stuff with (i'll cry)

-CASUAL DOMINANCE !!!! him being your boss and giving you deadlines for vids makes you blush so hard. he's never ever bossy/rude, but he's firm and technical about how he envisions certain vids and you want to deliver for him

-no matter how many times you run through the final edit with him, you still get nervous

-you're hanging onto his every word and facial expression, praying that he likes the way the vid turned out (he always likes it)

-you loves when he laughs at your editing choices, it's lowkey your goal to make him smile/laugh...equal parts job validation and crush validation 🙇‍♀️

-being roommates has led to many, manyyyyy late night mukbangs

-i can just imagine y'all at 2am eating a whole spread of food on the floor in the living room and talking about deep stuff

-speaking of deep stuff, it took you guys a couple months to open up to each other, but one night you were both editing super late and somehow the topic of sex came up....

-you guys bonded over being late bloomers, agreeing to keep each other's secret, which in turn made you closer

-being the slushy editor (and videographer sometimes) means getting to go on trips with them for vids !!!

-getting to go to curaçao and having the room next to hamzah's in the hotel.... (i'll make a separate thing abt this dw)

-i feel like the fans would love you and honestly prefer you and mandy over the boys lmfao

-mandy is so big sister <333 she's so happy to have another girl to be around at long last

-when hamzah and martin are arguing over smth in a vid, they'll drag you in for a third party opinion bc mandy has given up

-if you fall asleep on the couch watching a movie, hamzah will carry you to your bed or at least put a blanket over you. it kinda depends if he's feeling brave or not.

(intimate stuff, some nsfw)

-the sexual tension in the apartment is through the mf roof

-the funny part is neither of you do anything to initiate it, it's just so natural AND YOU BOTH FEEL IT BUT ARE TOO SCARED TO SAY ANYTHING !!!!

-sometimes hamzah will come home from the gym while you're editing...he'll have a thin, fitted shirt on, all sweaty and tired looking

-you pretend not to notice him, fiddling away on your computer with your headphones on (no volume playing ofc), but you have to clench your thighs together sometimes bc the sight is nearly too much to handle

-shower time gives you a heart attack each night

-a couple months into living together, hamzah gave up on getting dressed in the bathroom after his showers, so he'll walk out with just a towel around his waist and grab a drink from the fridge

-when you guys have movie night and there's a graphic sex scene he gets so awkward omfg...he'll go get smth from the kitchen or make a stupid joke so he doesn't get #bricked pretending it's you and him doing those things

-you're almost certain you've heard him jerk off a couple times, but obviously you're too scared too investigate further

-little do you know, he's jerking off to you 🎀

-you wonder if he's ever heard you masturbate, especially bc you're walls are so thin.🗿.......you try to do it when's out, but sometimes him being a wall away from you turns you on too much

-yes, he's knocked on your door in the middle of you doing it 😭

"y/n!! the landlord is here, she has a couple questions and i don't know the answers, please come help me...she scares me."

"i-uh..shit, ok, hamzah, just give me a sec !!!" you're scrambling, trying to put yourself together so it's not obvious you were literally just thinking about him fucking you

-even though you know it's fucked up, him being your boss makes you horny 🤕

-especially when he's peering over your shoulder, pointing out things he thinks you should add to the video. the smell of his cologne, the gentle cadence of his voice, how his hand takes the mouse from your hand and he mumbles a little apology under his breath....lawd....

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @42angelgirl + let me know if u wanna be added !!!!!

[urfavlarry]

I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^

Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters

Ashlyn Banner

best person to have a lazy day with tbh

i swear yall would be like “should we go out today” look at each other for 5 seconds and say “nah”

she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you aren’t flexible

probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words

she would be a bit awkward at first probably

also I don’t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, don’t go too hard on her

you let her play/stim with your fingers

you’re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that

doesn’t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe

if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you

if it’s your mother language then she would be like “omg how was [your country] like!”

probably is a nerd in some sort of way

anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you aren’t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted

Taylor Hernández

this girl is such a cutie!!

would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..

drawing/picnic dates are a must

watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop

calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff

is very affectionate

cuddles !!

shes the little spoon probably but if you’re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon

you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you don’t know then there’s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!

probably isn’t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on

the best partner to have if you’re insecure

makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat

overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D

Tyler Hernández

he is probably a tsundere tbh

acting like he doesn’t care but when you are alone he babies you sm

no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesn’t matter, he babies you no matter what

don’t let the others know tho

isn’t afraid to show you off like girl bffr

holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)

uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.

nicknames with him are endless

movie night is a must

probably would take you to his baseball practice

has a separate album for you only

everyone in the group can tell he’s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes

a jealous type probably

would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way

he’s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything

you gotta full on force him to tell you what’s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally

a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much

Logan Fields

gardening dates!!

gives you flowers when you’re sad or just whenever to make your day!

stargazing dates

yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)

calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love

gives you honest opinions on everything

regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards

makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face

introduces you to his grandparents

they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o

hugs from behind!!

reads you a book when you can’t sleep

helps you with your work but doesn’t do it for you (Barron trauma)

best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice

gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao

if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten

loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you

he’s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D

Aiden Clark

be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day

and also getting him out of trouble every single day

he is a wild one for sure

doesn’t mean he’s a bad boyfriend

loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you

does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you

that tik tok kind of shi

while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao

yapps your ear of all day every day

not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!

best cuddle buddy

and hug buddy

if you don’t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it

loves it when you play with his hair

makes a playlist for you two

calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe

definitely has you saved as “future wife🤭❤️” or “the mother of my kids🥵😍”

he be weird like that

loves to have you in his lap

idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..

only in private tho

honestly a pretty good boyfriend but he’s more of like your child then boyfriend

Ben Clark

a chill one for sure

hugs, holding hands are a must

listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode

jealousy scale is um pretty high

you gotta reassure this boy because he’s just scared of loosing you

would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to

whenever he gets angry, you’re there for him when Aiden can’t and he appreciates that

loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it

forehead kisses >>

probably doesn’t give you that many nicknames since he doesn’t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun

the best listener ever (not because he doesn’t speak)

when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder

very chill and overall good boyfriend