#you can do it. do it. go ahead. who cares if they look a little bad. go nuts with it!

[cherie-doll]

Hi !!!:3💌

I was wondering if you could write a headcanon about what it would be like for men to go with you to your country to spend Christmas already married and with children??? I hope you can🫶. Thanks!!⊹˚₊⭒

thought it'd be perfect if i posted this on the 25th but since yule started i decided why not today

᭺ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Christmas in your country w/ COD Men

✺ Price...

decided to surprise you with a trip back to your country to visit your family, you were overjoyed as you hadn't seen them in a while, especially with how busy you had been with raising the kids it wasn't going to be easy

he helped you make the proper preparations, the children were excited to visit and learn about how you celebrated during this time of the year

Price is more than supportive and helps take care of the kids who might be hyper and he didn't want them to stress you out when you should be enjoying your stay

"it's all about you, luv" he assures as he's the one to hang back a little and help the children get ready

you definitely enjoy this year a little more than the others, even if it sounds selfish it had been a nice break from the previous years of strenuous cooking and organizing for large dinners to simply enjoying nostalgic traditions from when you were a kid

✺ Ghost...

Simon wanted to help you relax, you were always so wired up and he was worried you'd overwork yourself getting presents for everyone especially since you were going back to your country

so he was several steps ahead and already had contacted your family beforehand so there would be less things you'd worry about, they were on board with the entire thing

he made it especially clear to your son and daughter that they should be on their very best behavior and not get into any trouble so you could enjoy this holiday properly with your family

at the end of it all, you were overwhelmed (in a good way) by all the warmth and familiarity that you fell asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace, a small smile on your face, content with how everything turned out, he pulled out a blanket you'd been gifted and sat next to you, caressing your hair and being warmed by the fire

✺ Soap...

for once he wanted to do something more for you, you had always gone above and beyond for him, so he figured he should do the same, quickly he realized it wasn't easy but he prevailed

you had landed and upon making inquiries at the front desk realized your luggage had been lost, he knew this would send you into a frenzy as all the gifts were in there, he told you and the kids to go ahead and head to the place you would be staying and spent an agonizing few hours at the airport trying to sort everything out

you worried he wouldn't arrive in time but then the doorbell rang, and there he stood, looking a little worn out but still managing a huge grin on his face, proud that he was able to handle it all by himself

he collapsed on the mattress afterwards as you approached him and thanked him for organizing this entire trip for you, you told him he didn't have to do it again but he insisted on coming again next year because after all he had really enjoyed this christmas a lot more seeing you happy and cheerfil with your family

✺ Gaz...

you had received a free plane ticket from a family member who hadn't seen you at family gatherings and missed you, the ticket was only for one person and you hesitated on accepting it because it'd mean you would have to leave Kyle and your two daughters behind

he, however, encouraged you to take the trip and he might spend this christmas with his family, you couldn't take your daughters but it had been years since you had been to your country, and honestly? you missed it, a lot

there might not be another chance so you agreed and made the trip, the first few days you couldn't help but miss the company of your husband and daughters, you admit that it's nice to be home again but you wish you didn't have to celebrate separately

you didn't expect to open the door on christmas morning and find your two daughters smiling gleefully up at you all bundled up in their scarves and Kyle standing behind them holding a beautiful bouquet, you almost knocked him over when you ran into his arms for a hug

✺ Roach...

he's nervous at the thought of going to your country not because of the travelling but more because that means you'd want to see your family and he hasn't met them prior to this

you even consider just not seeing them but he doesn't want you to miss out on spending time with your family, you assure him you'll just visit them the day before and then spend christmas just the two of you, that backfires because your family strongly urges you to spend the following day with them and suggest you bring your husband and kid so they could all meet them

he's on edge just thinking that your entire family will be there, especially if you've got a ton of family members who come from everywhere, and soon as he arrives he gets all shy when all eyes go to him because they don't know him, after you introduce him everyone beams and flocks to him greeting him in ways he's not used to, especially if where you're from greeting someone with a kiss is the norm

soon he looses his shyness and partakes in the festivities and has a wonderful time, you sit back and watch with a satisfied smile, your chin resting on your hand just watching him have fun, secretly you knew that they'd love him

✺ Alejandro...

Alejandro still holds his customs dearly to him so when he traveled to your country he, of course, brought his customs along, he made sure your family was fine with it and they more than welcomed them

it might have looked a little weird to see the 'weird' mix of food and way of doing things but it was fun to experience, your family already liked him but he really grew on them this time as they got to witness his culture and share some of theirs as well

the entire time he spent bonding with your family and was open to trying new things, he was also able to experience the weather during christmas in another country, whether that be heavy snow and chilling air that he isn't used to or suffocating heat that he can handle because that's like the second summer he's had to endure this year despite it being over from where he's from

✺ Rudy...

he's always loved helping you prepare for christmas, he wakes up earlier than you do and by the time you walk into the kitchen he's wearing an apron

so when you went back to your country he made an even bigger effort to impress your family by helping them prepare, he might have grown up with different customs or traditions but essentially he had the right intentions and was eager to learn

they took a liking to him right away and spent the entire day before the main event getting all the decorations tacked up and cooking a feast

he of course, didn't forget the kids, he might have asked for help to dress them in cute sweaters that your aunts knitted for them, he made sure they were extra thankful

✺ Phillip Graves...

i like to think he's cheesy af and does all your typical and cliché stuff during christmas since he's all hyped up for it that even your older kids can't help but roll their eyes

he was probably more excited than you were to go back to your country, he always liked hearing stories of how it was like growing up there and so he was the one to bring the idea of spending christmas there

he actually surprised you when you arrived and he greeted your family in their mother tongue, you didn't even know he had been practicing

he had the children help set up the decorations and you can't help but admit it was adorable seeing him lift the younger ones up to put up decorations on places they otherwise wouldn't be able to reach

✺ Makarov...

Makarov loves spoiling you and the kids on the regular, but he goes all out on christmas, he spends the month before snooping around and picking up hints on what you or the kids might want

he himself never really asks for anything because his biggest joy now is seeing you happy along with the children, he really couldn't ask for anything else

now that he's visiting your side of the family, he brings many gifts and lavish gifts for them, hoping to charm them, the kids especially love him and slide up to him hoping to he given extra candy or toys this year, this makes your younger children jealous and so they're constantly at their father's side, giving scowls to the kids who are doing too much

✺ Keegan...

he's overwhelmed meeting all of your family members and even your extensive family who have come too, it's kind of hilarious seeing him trying to take care of your son when he's a bit distracted, the kids are all playing in a circle and he comes up to one, taps him on the shoulder and tells him to come eat but when the kid turns around it's not even the right one

your family likes to get all dressed up and fancy for the big dinner so you go out of your way to your son cleaned up and getting yourself ready, while you're still touching up Keegan says he'll go ahead and wait for you with your son, and imagine the look on his face and everyone else when they see you walk down in clothes that elegantly compliment you

everyone turns to Keegan to see what he'll say but he's just awestruck, can't really get a coherent sentence out of his mouth other than just "wow, you look-" and then just admiring you

✺ König...

he's dragged away to help wrap up presents for the family, except he's not very good at it, he can't make it look very pretty and the wrapping paper tears, he tried tying a neat and elegant bow but he can only make really tight knots instead

still he's receiving pats on the back and "good jobs" for it, and when presents are handed out everyone knows who wrapped the funny looking presents

he'll hold your daughter up who's still too young to reach for herself the cookies on the top shelf when they're not supposed to be eaten yet, still he sneaks a few cookies and even bring some for you, this reminds you of how when you were a kid you also used to steal cookies the night before so you could enjoy some yourself

and when the time comes for the family photo he's having a hard time fitting into the frame because he's taller than everyone else, so he tries crouching a bit, bending his knees but it just makes him look awkward, instead someone suggests they all sit on the floor or on chairs and that way you now have a lovely copy of the picture to hand onto your fridge when you go back home

✺ Horangi...

he makes sure his daughters are dressed in cute matching dresses, their hair all neat and wearing pretty sweaters because he's not having them do the ugly sweater contest, he doesn't care how much money it cost to get those clothes customed and tailored they deserve it

of course he insists on having your clothes made special for the occasion as well but you decline saying not to worry you have yours ready

you arrive to be greeted by your family and it's custom to have the children sing or show off some sort of talent, your daughters are no less prepared as they sing and everyone is head over heels with how adorable they are, clearly you've done a good job with raising them

Horangi is proud to call you his s/o, even if it embarrasses you a little to constantly be referred as 'his' (in a lovingly manner ofc) in front of people who've watched you grow up

✺ Nikto...

he knows you're glad to be back in your country and celebrate, but behind that joy you're honestly a little tired, the trip was nothing easy especially if you're travelling to a different country and it was a long flight

after the festivities are over, he insists on putting the kids in bed, he carries the ones who have fallen asleep on the floor to their beds where you're staying and tucks them in, afterwards you honestly need a moment to yourself

after making sure the kids are asleep and won't need anything else, he shuffles outside where you're sitting by yourself on the porch stairs, you've forgotten your sweater inside so he takes his off and envelopes you in an embrace, sitting on the step behind you and keeping his arms around you

he doesn't say anything but you lean back into his chest and close your eyes and he also kind of leans in, resting his head on top of yours

[incorrectbatfam]

Yoooo Gooners play videogames with batfam?

Can we get more of that?

[online Poker]

Bruce: I fold. Again.

Kate: Great, so we're both down. Guess it's just up to you, Selina.

Selina, taking a deep breath: Alright, we have two thousand dollars on the line. Be quiet so I can focus. I think I have a pretty good hand.

~ meanwhile ~

Rob: So Poker is just professional lying?

Gene: There is a certain bluffing element to it, yes. But it's more than—

Rob: I'm going all in. Take that, @kittycentral, whoever the hell you are.

———————

[livestreaming]

Dick: Welcome to our first citywide Mario Kart tournament. In just a little bit, we're gonna tweet a code for you all to join online.

Jason: I swear, if we get Rainbow Road—

Dick: Well now you've jinxed it.

~ meanwhile ~

Blaise, stoned out of his mind: Yooo that dude looks like Nightwing.

———————

[battle royale]

Cass: Stashed weapons. Need shelter.

Cass: *finds an empty shelter*

Cass: Mine now.

~ meanwhile ~

Kellin: Now that I've built a shelter, I need to arm myself.

Kellin: *finds a weapons stash*

Kellin: That works.

———————

[online trivia]

Host: Question ten: Where was salmon sushi invented?

Steph, typing: Japan.

Steph: This is too easy.

~ meanwhile ~

Molly: Seems like a trick question.

Molly, typing: USA.

Host: Incorrect! The correct answer is: Norway.

———————

[online chess]

Alfred: My opponent has left his queen wide open. Rookie mistake? Maybe. Or, perhaps, he is two steps ahead of me.

~ meanwhile ~

Otto: I'm naming these horses Bread and Bagel.

———————

[Minecraft]

Tim: Where'd these tracks come from?

Bruce, gently knocking: Son, it's getting late. You should head to bed.

Tim: Five more minutes, I promise.

~ meanwhile ~

Milo: *building tracks*

Rob, barging in: Alright, pipsqueak. Lights out.

Milo: The fuck are you, my dad? Loser.

———————

Barbara: Finally, my inventory expansion mod is complete. Figures I have to do the developer's job.

~ meanwhile ~

Mac: Guess who made a cheat code to steal from other people's inventory? It's the alpha version, but it should work well enough. It's not like I'm playing against Oracle or anything.

———————

[Discord voice call]

Duke: It's our turn to write the next campaign.

Booker: Seems like a problem for tomorrow.

Duke: Yeah. So anyway, what's your day job?

Booker: I go to Gotham U and I'm in a criminal internship program.

Duke: I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that.

———————

[Animal Crossing]

Damian: Who just called my island stupid? When I find the middle-aged, basement-dwelling, mouth-breathing, Reddit-moderating—

~ meanwhile ~

Jackie: Gunner, did you call my Animal Crossing friend stupid?

Gunner: Who cares? Dad says it's probably an old man still living with his mommy.

[captain039]

PART 12 Blood, Fur and Magic

Vampire Viktor x reader x Werewolf Jayce

Warnings: Vampire things, werewolf things, light swearing, possessiveness, smut, sexual, intimacy, poly relationship, angst, violence swearing

EXTRA WARNING: PURE FRICKEN SMUT AHEAD, 18+ 18+ oral f and m receiving, inappropriate use of magic, blood drinking from Viktor (Obvs), slightly dom Viktor, slightly submissive Jayce, maybe more than slightly, MORE PURE SMUT IN NEXT CHAPTER SORRY NOT SORRY LMAO. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever wrote lol bye

Your magic pulses gently between the three of you. Even without the bond to Jayce it still reacts to him. Jayce is moving lower down your body kissing each rune on your stomach before moving to your hips. His hands move up and down your thighs slowly gently squeezing the flesh there. Viktor continues to kiss you hungrily leaving you in a breathless daze. You pull back when you feel Jayce’s shoulders push apart your thighs, you look down at him watching him nip at your inner thighs. You feel Viktor move and glance to him.

“Sit up” he orders gently and you do careful not hurt Jayce. Viktor sits behind you guiding you back to lie on his chest your head on his shoulder, he kisses and sucks at your neck his hands roaming your body now. You feel the warm breath of Jayce against your sex and tense up a little. He looks up to you in question, golden eyes boring into yours and you give a small nod. You hear a low growl before his tongue swipes out and swipes between your folds and over your entrance. You gasp a bit back going to arch but Viktor has a tight hold over you. Jayce eats you out like a starved man, the sounds so lewd and slick with spit and your juices. His nose rubes against your clit every now and then sending a jolt of pleasure through you while his tongue fucks in and out of you. You tremble and gasp feeling Viktor’s hand snake down your body to rub against your clit. You moan softly back arched. Between Viktor’s fingers and Jayce’s tongue again makes your stomach clench and magic thrum.

“W-wait” you pant out and Jayce stops his eyes going to yours and Viktor’s fingers stilling.

“Last time-“ you flush remember when you came and made both of them come untouched.

“You think we can’t go again?” Jayce says almost amused.

“What? No I didn’t-“ you flush wanting the bed to swallow you.

“I want to feel it again, I want to feel your pleasure crash through me” Jayce says heavily.

“Please” he adds his breathing coming out in quick pants. You flush and nod and he’s quick to get back to your pussy. He groans softly as he does while Viktor’s fingers start up again and your stomach coils once more. You can feel Viktor hard against you trapped between your body’s, you can feel his hips moving ever so slightly for friction, you can feel his desire as if it were your own. You close your eyes and feel, feel everything between Viktor, you and Jayce. You focus on the coolness of Viktor’s body now warmed by your own, the feel of Jayce’s breath against your sex, his strong hands holding your thighs, Viktor’s slender fingers rubbing in taunting circles against your clit. You moan brokenly and struggle to breathe Jayce double/ his efforts if possible and you let out a small cry. You can feel Jayce moving his hips against the bed trying to get friction as well.

“Jayce” you say breathlessly your hand going to grip his hair. He growls softly pressing closer as your stomach clench’s tightly. It’s like a snap of a rubber band, you feel it course through your body then Viktor’s then Jayce’s. There’s a pulse of magic as you come against Jayce’s face. You shudder whole body tense from the situation, you feel Viktor’s orgasm, both emotional and physically, it makes you cry softly. Then a new feelings stirs, wild, untamed, passion and you gasp at the feelings flowing through your body. You look down at Jayce who pants heavily his eyes closed blissfully, his mouth and beard glistened.

“Jayce” you whisper.

“I feel you” he moans hanging his head resting it against your thigh as he pants.

“I feel both of you” he whimpers and you feel his emotions boil up, feel his tears on your thigh. You feel tears roll down your face too. Viktor holds you tightly with one arm his other hand in Jayce’s hair. Jayce crawls up your body wiping his mouth on the back of his arm as he buries his face in your neck. He laughs softly mixed with his tears and you wrap your arms around him tightly.

“I can feel you both” he says.

You lay there for a moment lost in the feelings swirling between you all. Jayce is still shuddering slightly but his tears have stopped as have yours.

“I’m squishing you both” Jayce mutters and you let out a small laugh.

“We’re squishing Viktor” you correct and Viktor just hums behind you.

“I’m quite content from being squished” he says and you and Jayce both let out a small laugh.

“This is how you both felt?” Jayce asks.

“This is, more intense” you say as he finally lifts his head.

“The three of us combined in such a way, is beyond my words and knowledge” Viktor says. You glance down to Jayce’s chest and you see the same matching rune as Viktor’s, it pulses more rapidly with Jayce’s heartbeat. You glance to your own chest over your heart is the same rune, you’ve only just noticed it now. Jayce leans down and kisses the rune making you smile a bit feeling the light tingle it sends through your chest.

“I felt your magic go through me like before but it was more this time, focused on my heart and mind” Jayce says thoughtfully.

“It was the same for me, only a different situation” Viktor says with a light tease and you flush a bit.

“I would’ve done that a lot sooner if I knew” Jayce grins and you slap his arm gently.

“I do thoroughly enjoy eating you out” Jayce nips your earlobe gently making you go hot and no doubt redder.

“Though I do crave more every time” he sighs against you and you can feel his hardness poking your stomach even though you can feel a damp patch there already.

“I told you we could go for more than one round” Jayce says cockily and you roll your eyes huffing. You can feel Viktor hard against your back as well and gulp softly.

“Though the effects of such an undoing does require a brief respite” Viktor says his breath fanning your neck and you can practically feel him smirking.

“You’re not the one-“ you trail off a bit realising you also indeed feel the need to go again.

“You were saying?” Jayce rumbles out smirking.

“I can feel your need, slowly building up, the way your stomach does a little flip of excitement” Jayce adds his hips rocking against yours in a slow sensual movement.

“You need more” He says his eyes boring into yours with such gold intensity it makes you tremble.

“And we can give it” Viktor says. You nod your mind clouded by your own thoughts of lust and both of theirs.

“Such a sweet thing” Viktor whispers. Jayce stands from the bed, making you frown while he smirks and undoes his pant buttons. He’s unbothered by the damp patch ever present as he slides down his pant and boxers in one motion. You gulp looking at the toned thighs and calves and the very obvious hardness between his legs. Feeling him against you was one thing seeing it, another. You can feel Viktor’s desire flare up at the sight adding to your own. You watch a shiver go down Jayce’s body as he feels what you feel.

“Only one dressed is you Viktor” Jayce says voice low. Viktor chuckles softly.

“Sit up sweet thing” He says and you do. He’s gone in a shadow standing in beside Jayce with a small smirk as he gazes at the other man. You watch Viktor move around him before standing behind him, slender pale hands making their way to Jayce’s chest and side. Jayce’s muscles tense under the contact as Viktor’s fingers study his torso, one hand resting over the rune on his heart. You watch, practically feeling Viktor’s hands on your own body through the bond.

“I think, it is your turn to receive such treatment” Viktor mutters and you watch the bob of Jayce’s Adam Apple. Viktor leans up and whispers in his ear and you watch red creep up Jayce’s neck and to his cheeks. Viktor has this smirk on him and when his eyes meet yours his thoughts do too. You shiver a bit sitting up on the bed leaning back against the pillows spreading your legs so Jayce can sit between them. Jayce moves his eyes almost black as he crawls, turns, and sits between your legs, back to your chest.Your arms go around him one hand over his heart the other resting on his stomach just an inch from where his cock is resting on it. He’s so much warmer than Viktor, running hot with beast blood it makes you shiver. Viktor removes the rest of his clothing, you watch Jayce’s reaction, the swallow, the clench of his jaw. You feel Viktor’s fascination in watching his reactions and find your own fascination as well wanting to see more.

“Let us create more” Viktor says in a smooth voice before climbing on the bed and crawling over Jayce.

“My turn to squish you both” he chuckles softly before kissing Jayce. Jayce lets out a small whine his large hands going to Viktor’s waist. You move your hand lower slowly wrapping your hand around Jayce’s cock feeling him intake a sharp breath.

“I want to taste the wildness in you Jayce” Viktor mutters moving his head to his neck.

“Anything you want” Jayce says breathlessly as you begin to gently stroke his cock up and down. You feel his every breath come out in quick pants, his muscles tensing and relaxing. Viktor hums before you watch him pierce two fangs in Jayce’s neck. Jayce shudders and you can feel his feelings through you heavily. It makes you falter before you continue your slow strokes while Viktor feeds.

“This- this is what you felt?” Jayce asks you and you nod. When Viktor feeds from you the instant hit of desire went through you like an arrow. You watch Jayce’s hand grip Viktor tightly before the vampire lifts his head and swipes his tongue over the wound. Viktor looks to you then his eyes a dark crimson before he crashes his lips to yours. You can taste the metallic tinge of blood on his tongue and you find yourself surprised it doesn’t disgust you. Viktor’s tongue swirls with yours before he pulls back breathlessly. You’re still stroking Jayce’s cock when Viktor shuffles himself back, his face hovering above Jayce’s cock.

“Please” Jayce whispers as you move your hand. Viktor’s quick though, his hand keeping yours at the base before Viktor puts his lips around the tip. Jayce moans a little brokenly his head falling back against your shoulder before Viktor begins to suck him off and guide your hand movements.

“Fuck” Jayce grits out his body trembling and arching. Your hand on his chest becomes a weight, you let your magic surge through him to hold him down and he lets out another moan. You watch the scene in awe and desire, your magic humming in response to all your feelings and theirs, you watch your hand glow lightly before tendrils of magic dance across Jayce’s naked body. You watch one flick over his nipple and he lets out a shudder. Your mind reels a bit and you watch in fascination as your magic moves down Jayce’s body and up Viktor’s arms. It’s like a beautiful glow of blue tendrils over their body’s dancing and touching, exploring. You watch Viktor shudder his eyes opening as he looks to you then your magic dancing over his and Jayce’s bodies.

“Divine” he whispers.

TAGLIST:

Again sorry not sorry xD

@imithicwolf

@sseleniaa

@miraculousasscheeks

@alitaar

@drenix004

@nckcn

@donnie-is-here

@simeonswhore

@burning-harmony

@arevik2345

[narxcisse]

★ — You have a WHAT— !?

Pairing: Viktor x GN!Reader

CW: OnlyFans (don't do it in irl, have some self-love. 😐), modern au, suggestive, recording with him, implied sex(?

English isn't my native language

You’d been living with Viktor for a few months now, and while you two had settled into a comfortable roommate dynamic, there were still plenty of boundaries. Viktor was, after all, a reserved and intensely private person. You, on the other hand, were a little more… free-spirited.

That’s probably why the revelation hit him like a freight train.

It started innocently enough. Viktor had been borrowing your laptop to work on something after his own device had overheated. You had, of course, told him to go ahead without thinking about the open tabs you’d left behind.

The moment he opened the browser, his eyes widened. Your profile stared back at him—your stage name, the carefully curated content, and the glaringly obvious subscriber count. He blinked a few times, unsure if he was hallucinating.

By the time you walked into the living room, coffee in hand, Viktor was sitting there, your laptop on his knees, looking like he’d just uncovered a conspiracy.

“Care to explain this?” he asked, tilting the screen toward you.

Your blood ran cold as your eyes darted to the laptop. The tab. Oh, no.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, nearly spilling your coffee. “I, uh… can explain.”

Viktor arched an eyebrow, clearly amused despite the slight redness in his ears. “I certainly hope so.”

You set your coffee down, running a hand through your hair. “It’s not a big deal. It’s… a side hustle. Pays the bills. And it’s not like I’m doing anything illegal.”

He hummed, leaning back on the couch. “A side hustle, you say? Judging by your subscriber count, it’s a rather… successful one.”

You couldn’t tell if he was impressed or mortified. Maybe both. “Look, I didn’t think it was something you needed to know about. It’s just… a thing I do.”

Viktor tapped his fingers on the laptop, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m not judging,” he said finally. “I just… didn’t expect it. You’re quite bold.”

You huffed out a laugh, relieved that he wasn’t outright horrified. “Well, thank you, I guess?”

He smirked, closing the laptop and handing it back to you. “Just make sure to clear your browser history next time. And if you ever need help with… production or branding—”

“Viktor!”

He chuckled softly, standing up and grabbing his cane. “What? You know I have an eye for design. Let me know if you ever need a logo.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, though you couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it to Viktor to turn your most embarrassing moment into a business opportunity.

---

It started as a joke, one of those late-night conversations fueled by too much takeout and not enough sleep. Viktor had brought up your OF account in passing, teasing you lightly about your "entrepreneurial spirit." You’d laughed it off at first, but somehow, the idea of him being your co-star had slipped out.

He’d arched an eyebrow at the suggestion, his lips quirking in a smirk. “You’re serious?”

“I mean…” you trailed off, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Why not? You’re… well, you know, attractive. I think people would lose their minds.”

To your surprise, Viktor had actually considered it. He wasn’t shy, but he had a reserved, almost clinical approach to most things. “If it’s purely professional,” he’d said eventually, his tone careful but intrigued, “then I suppose I wouldn’t be opposed.”

And that’s how you found yourself here, in your shared bedroom, with the camera set up and Viktor sitting at the edge of your bed, looking almost too composed for what you were about to do.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, suddenly nervous.

Viktor adjusted his position, leaning on his cane with a slight smirk. “I don’t make decisions lightly. You, on the other hand, seem rather flustered for someone who does this regularly.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Yeah, well, it’s not every day I film with my roommate.”

His gaze softened slightly, and he reached out, brushing his fingers against yours. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “We’ll take it slow.”

The camera started rolling, and all your nerves seemed to dissipate the moment his lips met yours. Viktor’s touch was deliberate, his movements precise as though he were approaching this like one of his experiments—focused, attentive, and surprisingly passionate.

You quickly realized that Viktor’s calm, calculated demeanor translated into an intensity you hadn’t anticipated. He was all in, every touch and movement deliberate, as if he wanted to ensure that this wasn’t just convincing on camera—it was unforgettable.

When it was over, you were both breathless, tangled in the sheets as the camera’s red light blinked softly in the corner of the room. Viktor let out a soft chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Well,” he said, his voice teasing, “I think that went rather well.”

You laughed, still catching your breath. “You’re a natural. I might have to recruit you more often.”

He smirked, his amber eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful. I might start demanding a share of the profits.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. “We’ll see about that.”

But as you lay there, Viktor’s arm draped lazily over your waist, you couldn’t help but think that this was definitely one of your better ideas.

— Guys, I found a dubious wifi connection, but I guess I'll use it until I have to go home lol.

[hsnlv]

bittersweet | s.jy

synopsis: caught in a dangerous dance of passion and obsession, you’re drawn to sim jaeyun’s intoxicating pull. his love is chaotic, his touch addictive, and though it threatens to destroy you, you can’t help but fall deeper—willing to break if it means keeping him.

warning: a little suggestive at one point, a little manipulative too, reader is obsessed with jake that they would do anything for him.

wc: 2.1k

a/n: this is very much inspired by bittersuite by billie eilish! but im pretty sure i misinterpreted some of the lyrics used in this story. and just a reminder that each lyrics will bring you to a different scenario. enjoy reading!

i can’t fall in love with you

“(y/n), you know he’s no good for you!” your friend’s voice rings in your ears, louder than the music thumping in the background. their frustration is palpable as they watch you, once again, drift into thoughts about him.

sim jaeyun.

his name is a song in your head, a melody you can’t stop humming. he’s the kind of beautiful that should come with a warning, the kind of dangerous that leaves you breathless.

“you don’t get it,” you mutter, trying to shake off the words as your eyes roam the room, searching.

“no, you don’t get it!” they snap, stepping in front of you, forcing your attention back to them.

“you’re setting yourself up to get hurt, and for what? some guy who’s going to break your heart like it’s nothing?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, unwilling to admit they might be right. but it doesn’t matter. none of it matters.

because there he is.

jaeyun.

leaning against the wall like he owns the place, his sharp features softened by the dim light. your heart stumbles, skips, then races ahead, and suddenly, nothing else exists.

you don’t even realize you’ve walked away until your friend’s voice fades into the distance.

i was on my knees, outside of my body, watchin’ from above, i see the way you want me

“good girl,” he murmurs as he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

his voice is silk, smooth and warm, wrapping around you like a spell. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer, steadying you as your knees threaten to give out. his fingers press just hard enough to leave you breathless.

the room fades. the smell of alcohol, the chatter of voices, the dull bass in the background—it all disappears. all that’s left is him. his touch. his scent. his voice.

you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear the world stops spinning. he looks at you like you’re something he’s been searching for, something precious.

“jaeyun,” you whisper, his name barely audible.

“yes, pretty girl?”

and that’s it. you’re gone. your resolve crumbles, your heart collapses, and you know—you know—that no matter how much this will hurt, you’ll fall every single time.

i gotta be careful, gotta watch what i say, God, i hope it all goes away

“jaeyun, i love—”

the words almost slip, a confession hanging in the air between you. but you catch yourself just in time, swallowing the rest of the sentence before it can escape.

his head tilts, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “love what, baby?”

his voice is slow, deliberate, laced with the kind of mischief that makes your chest tighten. he knows exactly what you almost said, and he’s enjoying every second of your hesitation.

you can’t answer. you won’t. because if you do, everything will change, and you’re not sure you’re ready for that. your heart beats too fast, your pulse pounding in your ears as his gaze holds you in place.

but it’s torture.

you saw the way he looked at her earlier.

you saw the way he leaned in, the way his eyes followed her.

your stomach twists at the memory, jealousy clawing its way up your throat. but you can’t bring yourself to call him out. you won’t, because if you do, you’ll have to admit how much it hurts.

and it does. God, it hurts.

because no matter how much it stings, no matter how many times you tell yourself you should walk away, you only fall harder.

he’s a drug, and you’re addicted.

“come on, baby,” he coaxes, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing your jawline. “you love what?”

your walls are crumbling, brick by brick, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold them up.

you know he’s bad for you.

but…

cause i can’t fall in love with you, no matter how bad i want to

the mantra loops in your head, a desperate attempt to remind yourself of the truth.

dont. fall. in. love. with. him.

but the truth is a lie.

his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. your breathing is uneven, your body trembling as his lips graze your neck.

he sleeps soundly beside you now, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that feels too peaceful for the chaos he’s caused inside you.

"so fucking sweet," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he pounded into you, as if you were the only thing that existed to him in that moment.

"doing so good for me, hm? so good, so sweet," he whispered, his hand brushing your cheek so softly. for just a second, his eyes looked at you like he loved you. and that second was all it took to unravel you completely.

your fingers brush over the marks he left on your skin, the evidence of his touch still fresh. you close your eyes, replaying the night in vivid detail—the way he whispered your name, the way he moved, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

for a moment, you let yourself believe it.

because for a brief second, he looked like he was in love with you.

but you know better.

you know he won’t be here when you wake up.

and yet, you’d do it all again.

but if pain is the price you pay to have him like this, to feel his touch, his presence, you'll take it. again and again, until there's nothing left of you to give. because it’s the only thing that makes you feel alive.

i don’t need to breathe when you look at me, all i see is green

his eyes meet yours across the room, and the world falls away. everything else—every voice, every sound, every breath—disappears in an instant. it’s just him now.

green. deep and dangerous, like a forest that tempts you to wander too far in, knowing you’ll never make it out.

he doesn’t have to speak. doesn’t have to move. just looking at you is enough to leave you gasping for air, and somehow, you don’t care.

“you’re quiet tonight,” he says as he approaches, his tone soft but heavy with meaning.

you shrug, trying to play it cool, but your heart is pounding too loudly for you to hear your own thoughts.

“what’s on your mind?” he asks, leaning closer. his hand brushes against yours, just barely, but it sends a shiver up your spine.

you want to tell him everything. how he’s the only thing you think about. how the sound of his voice lingers long after he’s gone. how his absence feels like a weight pressing down on your chest.

but you don’t.

“nothing,” you lie, though the way you look at him says otherwise.

he smirks, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “is that so?”

i think that we’re in between everything i’ve seen, in my dream

“you’re overthinking again,” he says, his voice laced with that disarming calm that always makes you second-guess yourself. His fingers graze your cheek, tipping your head just enough so you have to look at him.

“don’t,” you murmur, but the word barely escapes your lips.

“don’t what?” he counters, his tone deceptively soft, as if he’s confused. But the glint in his eyes tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Don’t remind you of what we are? Of what you keep running from?”

you shift under his gaze, but he doesn’t let you pull away. his hand is firm, grounding you, as if he’s anchoring you in place, forcing you to stay in this moment.

“why do you do this?” you ask, your voice trembling, betraying the resolve you desperately want to cling to.

his smirk is subtle, almost imperceptible, but it cuts through you all the same. “because I know you,” he says, the confidence in his tone rattling something inside you. “better than anyone else ever could.”

“you don’t—”

“i do,” he interrupts, his voice steady now, his hand sliding to your jaw. “and you hate that, don’t you? you hate how much you feel for me. you hate that no one else makes you feel this way.”

your heart races, and you know he can feel it.

“but it’s okay,” he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. “you don’t have to admit it yet. i’m patient. i’ll wait.”

the way he says it, so sure, so certain, makes your stomach twist. because deep down, you know he’s already won.

i don’t need to breathe when you look at me, all i see is green

the tension between you simmers, unspoken but undeniable, a charged thread pulling you together even as you test the limits of its strength. his gaze is sharp, piercing, watching your every move as if he’s memorizing you in real time. you know he hates it—hates the way your attention drifts toward the edges of the room, where other figures stand, laughing, drinking, and existing in a world that doesn’t revolve around him.

but your world? it does.

you don’t need anyone else in this room. you never did. but sometimes, the only way to keep him tethered is to let the rope fray. to make him feel the sting of what it’s like to lose you, even if just for a second.

you seem so paranoid, i’m looking at the boys, i’ve never filled the void, out of spite.

you glance at the guy near the bar—just a second too long, just enough to make it noticeable.

you hear him before you feel him. the sharp inhale, the muted scoff. then his fingers are at your waist, curling around you like a warning, pulling you back against him. his touch is firm, possessive, almost bruising, but it’s the kind of pain that makes your pulse quicken.

“you’re playing a dangerous game,” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear.

“what game?” you ask, your voice dripping with feigned innocence, even as a small smirk tugs at the corner of your lips.

his jaw tightens, his muscles clenching under your hand as you rest it lightly against his arm. he’s trying to stay composed, to keep the fire in check, but you’ve already struck the match.

“you’re looking at them like you want something,” he says, his voice low, smooth like honey but edged with steel. “but we both know they could never give you what i do.”

he’s right, of course. they couldn’t. but that’s not the point.

you seem so paralyzed, it’s so romanticized,

his grip softens slightly, his thumb brushing against your side, and for a moment, you forget why you started this in the first place.

when your eyes meet his, the room seems to shift. everything fades—music, voices, the low hum of conversation. it’s just the two of you, locked in this intoxicating push and pull, this endless cycle of destruction and devotion.

you hate how much you need him. you hate how easily he pulls you back every time you try to let go. but there’s something about the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters, that makes you crave the chaos.

“you like this, don’t you?” he says softly, his lips brushing against your temple. “you like making me crazy.”

you don’t answer, but he doesn’t need you to. he knows.

if this is how i die, that’s alright.

his touch is slow, deliberate, like he knows exactly how to unravel you. his fingers trace the line of your collarbone, dipping just enough to make your breath hitch. his lips hover over your ear, his voice dark and smooth, sending shivers down your spine.

"you're shaking," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "but you're not pulling away. why is that?"

you swallow hard, your throat dry, your mind clouded with the weight of his presence.

"because I-" but the words falter, caught somewhere between truth and fear.

he smirks, and it's almost cruel, the way he looks at you-like he knows the power he holds, like he knows you've already surrendered. his hands slide lower, grazing your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you.

"you can't help yourself, can you?" he says softly, his tone laced with mock sympathy. "you want this. you want me."

your breath catches, the heat of his words burning through every defense you've tried to build. you don't respond, but the silence is enough. he knows. he's always known.

his lips press to your neck, slow and searing, each kiss leaving a mark that feels like it's branding you as his. his grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who's in control.

"you let me do this to you," he whispers, his voice dripping with possession. "you let me have you, over and over, and you never stop me. why?"

you don't have an answer. maybe there isn't one. maybe it's because you've always been drawn to him, even when you knew you shouldn't be. maybe it's because he's everything you shouldn't want but can't resist.

his lips move to your ear, his voice now a low growl. "because you love me. even if it ruins you, even if it destroys everything else, you'll always love me."

and he's right. you hate how right he is. because as his hands roam your body, as his lips claim yours in a way that feels both heaven and hell, you know you're his. completely. utterly.

if this is how you lose yourself-if this is how you die-you'll let him. because being his feels like the only way you're alive.

[spectral-phases]

A non-comprehensive guide to my cooking headcanons for the Batfam

I'll add comic panels to support myself when I feel like I'm going very much against the grain of fanon and have to defend my position a little.

Alfred: Master of the craft, learned to cook from French chefs and has been a professional chef as a cover while serving as a spy. He can make you croissants and puff pastry from scratch, but the waffle iron (every waffle iron, yes even that brand new fancy one that is supposed to be so easy to use) was designed in hell to torment him specifically. This may be because even God himself is jealous of Alfred's ability to master a recipe after only reading it once (never refers to it again while working), or watching the video once and so he was given an Achilles heal by the divine. He has a cookbook and personal recipes written down, but very rarely looks at them. He is not the best teacher, and he did not care for children or anyone else in the kitchen, but Martha Wayne was not having any of that, especially for Jewish holidays, and to date, the way he handles kids in the kitchen is his best approximation of how Martha taught Bruce how to cook, but he lacks the requisite patience because he learned how to cook from French chefs (Gordon Ramsey without the soft kids mode, but he's never screaming or yelling or cussing people out because he's refined).

He is allowed to cook in the kitchen by himself

The kitchen is his domain and he maintains the right to supervise as needed, with some exceptions

Select people can assist him, but he prefers to do the cooking by himself as its the only thing he adds to the family that they enjoy that isn't cutting off years of his life like medical treatment or running the comms is. He's also stupid fucking fast at it and good at cleaning as he goes, and its hard to have someone else in his very regulated and honed system without mucking it up

Bruce: Contrary to popular belief, the man can cook. Unfortunately, he can only do so if there is a written recipe to follow and it is written in the way that makes sense to his brain. Will read the recipe ahead of time for prep, but will miraculously forget that there is a 3 hour resting period if it is not at the top with the prep time and cook time. Please do not ask him to cook anything after watching a video, it does not stick. Has no sense of what spices do what, so if the recipe says we're using 2 tablespoons of ground cloves, then that's what we're doing. With a good recipe, he can make any food from around the world no matter how complex, however, even something as simple as a tuna salad, ham and cheese, or a PB&J sandwich needs a written recipe with exact amounts and instructions for him to get it done or he will mess it up in ways not even the devil himself could imagine. Look, he has an eidetic memory, but his brain just does not compute that way and he's alway second guessing himself without a written recipe. The only thing he can make from scratch without a recipe are his mother's latkes, but that is, of course, rarely made because of all the emotions, but sometimes he goes through it because he remembers how she had him make them and it feels like she's still there with him, whispering in his ear.

He and Alfred have both agreed to tell anyone who asks that he's not allowed to cook by himself in the kitchen because he will find a way to use three pots and every bowl to make hot chocolate (he will, as a matter of fact), but it's really because when he was younger, he was making a pan sauce that the recipe simply said to “reduce” and managed to burn it so badly it ruined a pan Alfred had inherited from his grandmother and Bruce cannot stomach the possibility of doing that again

He winds up cooking for real these days only if Alfred is injured, but can sit in the kitchen to help supervise (“No, Master Bruce, you'll need a much bigger pot for that”) and explain vague steps in the recipes ("Coat the back of a spoon means that...")(Alexa or other virtual assistants do not help)

Dick: Despite what his kitchen cabinets may suggest, he makes phenomenal food. He's just putting all his emotional energy into keeping his people alive so if he's on his own then odds are he's having take-out, eating a mix of cereal/granola bars/trail-mix/cartons of protein shakes, or maybe a frozen meal prepped thing from the last time he had the wherewithal and time to do so and is thusly freezer burned to shit. If he is making food for other people? Amazing. Delicious. His repertoire is mainly dishes from Eastern Europe or Southwest Asia, but he has to know what the soul of the meal is if he's making something new. Rarely consults written recipes (unless they're online and have the whole novel of where the recipe came from and what it means and all the pictures of how it's supposed to look at various stages, and he will read that and the ingredient list only), prefers videos, but only from grandmas and grandpas or POC, not the rich white frat boys.

He cooks in any kitchen where Alfred is not and will not be present. You would be forgiven for thinking that he and Alfred could cook in the kitchen at the same time, especially since they can make the same dish with a reasonably similar flavor profile. The fact of the matter is, they both are very much type A personalities (even if Dick likes to pretend he's a type B) and if they are both present during the cooking process they will be at each other's throats constantly about their different methods, even if they are getting to the same destination in the end

Cass: Subsists mostly off of what she can find or what others feed her. She can cook a few simple dishes but they’re not mind blowing. She does make a phenomenal assistant, but she had zero working knowledge of what does what coming into the picture and has been gradually learning. Has learned how to work the waffle iron from Steph, and so is in charge of waffles for breakfast. Waffles has become her thing and everyone lets her have it. She can even make stuffed waffles these days.

Alfred is happy to leave all waffle breakfast adventures in the manor to Cass, she's very polite in the kitchen and doesn't make a huge mess, she'll even clean as she goes so it doesn't interfere with whatever else he is making

She is Alfred's favorite assistant (the rare times that he actually wants one) because she doesn't take his irritation personally because she can see how its meant to be directed at himself and will do exactly as he says

Jason: It's important you know I headcanon his paternal grandmother as Italian (so she cannot be Ma Gunn) and his step-mother as Latina going into this. He can fucking cook like no one's business. He can taste something and recreate it nearly flawlessly. However, he was taught by his nonna and mamita to measure with his heart, so he was presented with measuring cups once and broke out into hives. Only God knows how much of any one ingredient makes it into anything he makes, this includes cakes and breads. The only recipes he's interested in learning are strictly videos from the grandmas and grandpas or POC (Jason has a rule, the shittier the camera quality, the better the food will be, usually). He watched one popular white frat boy cooking video exactly once and was screaming about why they have to dirty approximately sixteen thousand little bowls to measure out each spice by themselves (and that wasn't nearly enough garlic!). He technically has recipes written down by hand from his nonna and mamita, and a few he wrote himself to try and help Alfred understand some meals, they're just hidden away in a drawer that he rarely references for cooking guidance over looking at their handwriting (The set from his family was in the box of stuff the neighbor saved for him that had his birth certificate in it, and he is forever grateful to still have that stuff. He thought for sure it was gone for good). Approximately 80% of all his meals are cooked by him or someone else, even if it's just a quick scrambled eggs and toast.

Jason and Alfred do not coexist happily in a kitchen together. However, they do coexist because Alfred asked him once why he was doing things “that way” as a child and he said his Nonna did it that way and that shut Alfred the fuck up immediately

Jason does not accept help in the kitchen from anyone unless he's making dumplings of any variety or tamales and then everyone's helping put them together

Tim: He only started learning how to cook at the age of 15, so he doesn't have a wide base of experience to draw from or pre-existing knowledge. Tim has a few staple dishes he has learned how to make. It's good, but not winning any awards. However, his hang up is he needs to know exactly how and why things work the way they work in a recipe before he can actually be trusted to cook it on his own. He likes recipes from food scientists, hobbyists or professionals, because they are more likely to explain all the things he needs to know before he can go ahead and cook something more complex. He measures everything in grams, and had to get a scale with 10ths of a gram for spices, once made coffee with lab equipment just for the science of it. Someone got him The Food Lab by J. Kenji Lopez-Alt and it was a game-changer. There is no deity out there that can explain to you the recipes he writes down himself, because their ever changing shorthand only make sense in his brain. Like Dick, Tim does not often have the wherewithal to make complex foods for himself, and so has a bunch of jars of sauces/curries/soups or vacuum sealed pre-seasoned meals ready to go in a sous vide or pot in the freezer to break out as needed. Often freezer-burned because of how little he is at his own place.

Tim is only allowed to cook in the manor's kitchen with supervision because he is likely to make disastrous experiments if left curious and unattended ("I know it's usually done this way, but…" is either going to lead to some delicious food, or an explosion. No way to know for sure unless you're there watching it happen live). What happens in his home kitchen is between him and God

He can make himself useful as an assistant if needed, but usually only for Dick because only he has the patience to put up with Tim in the kitchen

Damian: Has forced himself to learn to cook competently. Will not let himself be outdone by the others, but has learned from all of them. When he's older, he could whip up a Michelin star quality dinner with plating, but doesn't find it worth the effort unless he is trying to impress someone or prove he can. Opts for simple and nutritious meals on the rare occasion he is responsible for his own meals and has the time/desire to cook. Does he measure? Only exactly for baked goods, he will never admit it, but he has no idea how Jason can make baked goods without measuring. There are two things he knows how to make on his own as easy as breathing beyond eggs: Martha Wayne's latkes and Talia's karak chai.

Damian will only cook in the manor if it is more prudent to do so and everyone else there cannot (It's the middle of a blizzard and Bruce and Alfred are sick). Regardless, he is allowed to cook unsupervised in the manor when he's old enough for that to be reasonable.

Will help Alfred but complain the whole time, despite obviously enjoying the time spent with Alfred

Look, he's either helping someone else make something, or he's on his own. Does not care for assistants as he feels like he is constantly being judged.

Barbara: Can cook, will cook, and does cook. She uses slow-cookers and sous vide usually, because she needs something she can throw into a pot and then have to run away from for hours at a time at a moments notice without having to juggle it too. Otherwise it's a microwaved meal. Everything in her kitchen has been fit to accommodate her cooking in her wheelchair and when she's got the time and is really feeling up to it, she can cook a very amazing meal on the stove just for herself or anyone else she's having over.

Will only accept help in the kitchen from Cass or Steph because they are laid back enough to put up with

Steph: Can she cook? Yes. Does she love cooking? No. Cooking is a chore to her and it does not have the payoff she needs to engage with it more than absolutely necessary. She'll look through her pantry and declare that she doesn't have anything good because everything she has was bought when she had more ambition to cook than she currently possesses and then order door dash. The easiest way to get her to cook is to tell her that she's not allowed to. That said, she really loves to bake. She's not winning any awards for her presentation, but it tastes amazing.

Would rather clean dishes than help cook because she does not have the energy to put up with the way the others are while cooking

I haven't read much with Kate, Duke, Helena, or Harper in it, so I don't have anything for them.

[ronearoundblindly]

Who would give the best presents? (For the holidays maybe)

Jingle bells 🔔 Jingle bells 🔔 Jingle all the way 🎊

This is gonna be focused on holiday/Christmas gifts, but it also describes why--due to the type of presents the guys do give--they are good or 'bad.' It turned out to be NO NONSENSE and shorter than expected, my bad.

Listed in (vague) order of worst to best!

Jimmy Dobyne

Doesn't much see the value in gifts after childhood. Might offer a present here and there. Mostly only bothers with gifts when told he has to get something, whether that is by you in reminder for a party he's going to or for you on an occasion a friend tells him.

Johnny Storm

Shows up with a last-minute gift every time. No planning ahead. Apparently considers his presence a gift...even for your birthday 😒

Lloyd Hansen

Gets you gifts that he likes, basically for him, not you. At least someone enjoys them, right? Correct. If anyone should be appeased, it's Lloyd.

Ari Levinson

Not much of a holiday or celebration person but will step up for very special things. (Hint: it's not for Christmas, and Hanukkah hasn't been gift-focused since he was quite little. Mostly cares about your birthday and big life events.) Sadly, Ari also knows he's not the best gift giver, so...he stopped trying to get better a long time ago.

Curtis Everett

Really against 'stuff' for stuff's sake, so gifts are rare and meaningful but not expensive (unless you two have agreed on the cost of something extravagant). This is a guy you have to do ring shopping with before he proposes.

Ransom Drysdale

Buys you expensive gifts but not necessarily with you and your likes in mind. Sometimes he gets lucky, they're just plain awesome, and you love them that much more.

James Mace

Excessively practical. The use-to-expense ratio is always considered, probably too much.

Bucky Barnes

Very thoughtful, small gifts. He's been afraid of really big gestures and public declarations of any sort. Bucky also staunchly refuses to let anyone else wrap his gifts to others; start to finish, it has to be him choosing, buying, wrapping, and offering each gift.

Steve Rogers

Consistent in giving something for every holiday, anniversary, or event, even if it's just flowers.

*Bucky and Steve fall into the category of if they can hand-make a gift, they will at least try to make it themselves. It's a point of pride. They also baulk at the cost of everything these days, so they tend to keep the price of presents down. Making things from scratch tends to help that.

Andy Barber

Not afraid to drop some dough on your gifts AND always considers what you like, what looks good on you, or what you'll really use.

Jake Jensen

I rank Jake as the best gift giver not because he spends the most money or puts the most thought into each. He spends enough and he thinks enough, but Jake enjoys the process the most. He's so fucking happy to see your face light up (or for you to give him the evil-eye at a joke present). This makes the actual act of gifting with Jake the most exciting. He tries to pick a setting and time that enhances the experience of the gift--no matter how small or goofy the present. Yeah, the rating system here is subjective, but Jake still wins. Sorry not sorry.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63

[missriddle03]

Title: Even in sickness

Parings: daryl dixon x fem! reader (mentions of y/n)

Small synopsis: daryl is ill and you look after him, turns out he cares about you more than you realise

Time to read: just over 14mins

Word count: 3,022

Warnings: none but formatting may be off as it took me half an hour to fix it 😭

(GIF isn't mine, found on pinterest)

The cold air blew past you and Daryl as you both were trying to hunt some deer; or anything to eat. Daryl had been in the woods for a few months with you by his side trying to find any hints about Rick’s whereabouts.

A few years had passed without anything new but neither of you wanted to give up. Daryl had his crossbow swung on his shoulder whilst dog was running getting his exercise. “How are you feeling?” you asked him. Your eyes darted to Daryl seeing he was already looking at you. 

A slight smile formed on your face. He was wearing a green poncho and you were wearing a shirt and jeans. “Yeh, I’m good. You?”

“Mhm, I’m okay”

In fact, you were okay even though it wasn’t what you had planned for the day you were still happy to be in his company and he was happy you were with him. “You know I could have done this by myself,” he stated. 

Daryl was a capable man who knew what to do in any situation thrown his way. You knew he would be fine by himself but you didn’t want to leave him alone. 

“Of course you could have done this by yourself but then you’d be bored without me” 

Standing near him you grabbed a little knife seeing the dog bark continuously. You both began running over to him and saw a little snake going through the grass. 

Daryl got his crossbow and shot it before picking it up and wrapping it around his neck. “Dinner is served,” you whispered more to yourself than to him because he still heard it.

“If I see anything else we’ll eat that,” Daryl said. You and Daryl were close as ever and your friendship blossomed more once you reunited in Alexandria shortly after the fall of negan. Seeing him gone broke your heart and you wanted to be there for him and he felt the same. A relationship was never in the cards for Daryl but it seemed like an option once you came into his life.

Daryl noticed your little mannerisms so when he saw you run your hand through your hair he let a little frown out. “What’s on your mind?” 

You looked at Daryl whilst trying not to trip over the knotted grass below. “Nothing..why?” 

“Somethings wrong I can tell”

You both passed through some trees(still following the dog) slowly heading back to camp. “I just think about the time we’ve wasted and the fact that we don’t even see anyone anymore. I mean when was the last time we saw Carol?”

He started counting on his fingers the amount of months it had been but he suddenly lost track. “We’ve all been so busy with our lives but I just feel that every single one of us have lost touch”

Since you and Daryl had been cooped up in the woods your hair has grown longer and you have gotten stronger. Daryl became more tough and his hair had gotten longer too. 

“That maybe true, but we jus’ gotta focus on ourselves” 

“Yeah..I get that still feel bad though”

Daryl nodded in agreement before paying full attention to his dog who had seemed to be way ahead of both of you. “Dog! Come here boy,”

Both of you began running to catch up to him but suddenly you couldn’t see him anymore. “Daryl, what are you-”

“I’m over here,” he called out. Daryl was nowhere to be seen standing up but then you looked to your left and saw him in a lake doused with water. 

You let out a laugh before seeing Dog running into the lake and splashing about giving Daryl licks. “Atleast dog came back”

Daryl threw his crossbow onto the dry path before walking through the water. You went over to him grabbing his hand and lifting him up. “How did you manage to fall in a massive lake?”

Dog leaped out of the lake and shook the water from his fur all over Daryl and you. “I was running and didn’t see the dip which I fell into and then the lake appeared”

You still had the crossbow slung onto your shoulders, “the crossbow suits you,” he said. “Thanks,”

Daryl was drenched head to toe in water and the temperatures were dropping as the night went on. “Still got the snake?” you asked him and he nodded his head. 

Darkness surrounded the sky and worry filled your head. “Hey..I think it’s gonna rain,” 

You both were not far from where you were staying so you were hoping that it wouldn’t rain until you got shelter. “Heads up,” Daryl stated pointing to the walker that was coming your way. 

A knife and a crossbow was what you had on you and you weren't 100% sure about using the crossbow so you walked over and used the knife stabbing the walking in its head. Dog was staying between you both, not leaving your sides. “Once we get back you might wanna get into a fresh pair of clothes so you don’t catch a cold” 

“I’ll be fine,” 

You tutted at him. “Just because you’re a big tough guy you can still catch a cold,”

He shrugged his shoulders and was ringing out the water from his poncho. Almost simultaneously the clouds began getting dark and little drops of rain were falling from the sky. 

You liked the rain, the smell of the rain was a comforting scent and it was the perfect mood to light a candle and read a book..but this was the apocalypse so you hardly had time to do the things you used to do. “Maybe it will just be a little shower,” he said.

Then it started lashing it down.

“Okay..maybe not,” 

All three of you started running faster trying to get to your accommodation but it felt like it was taking forever. Once dog began barking you could tell you were itching nearer to where you needed to be.

You opened the tent and let him in as you shortly followed after. “Take your clothes off,” you instructed him as his eyes widened. “You know what I meant”

Turning around, you grabbed the clothes you needed from the pile you had put on a box you found. You changed your clothes and once he did you took them and rung them out from excess water. 

“Have to do for now until the rain stops,”

Daryl took the snake and put it on the side clearly fed up with the weather. Dog ran inside and jumped on Daryl wanting attention. “You’re a good boy..aint ya, yes you are” Daryl spoke.

He turned to look at you, seeing your face in a smile. “What?”

“Nothing..just I like seeing this side of you”

Daryl slightly smiled and looked outside to see if the rain had stopped… it hadn’t.

You had woken up a few hours before Daryl and you were already sharpening some knives you had that had gone blunt. The dog was awake so it was just you and him but you could hear him whimpering.

“Is your daddy not awake yet?”

Giving him attention you dropped your items on the floor deciding to check on him. It had been a few days since you both got caught in the rain but Daryl had been looking different a bit each day.

The first night after he looked a bit more red in the face, the second night he felt cold, the third night he was snivilling and you weren’t sure what he’d be today. You heard a small cough coming from inside, you saw Daryl sat but was trying to stop himself from coughing further. “Hey, you okay?” you asked him.

“M’alright. No need to worry”

He started coughing again, “Daryl I am worried about you, I think you’re getting ill” 

His cheeks looked flushed but as you went over to him you placed your hand on his forehead and he felt cold. “You might have the flu,” you said.

Daryl shook his head not giving you an answer; instead he took his crossbow and walked out. You trailed after him taking the crossbow off him. “Hey!”

You crossed your arms whilst the crossbow was still in your hand. “You are ill Daryl. I’m not letting you go out till you get better”

“But I-”

“No, I need you to get better. How about I go to Alexandria and get some medication from Siiddiq?” Daryl hesitated to say anything but he placed his hand in his pockets until he sneezed. You still stayed looking at him awaiting an answer.

“I’m okay I’ll just deal with it” 

He looked around but stopped once the sun glared at him in his eyes. “You can’t even look near the sun! I’m getting those medication for you”

Daryl widened his eyes not realising that you were being serious. You put your hair in a ponytail and attached your belt with what you need incase you encounter a walker. “Wait here till I get back,”

You handed him his crossbow back and started walking away. “Y/n,”

“Yeah?” you called out. “Be safe”

Smiling, you left and started heading to Alexandria. You hadn’t been there for a while but you knew you needed to bite back your thoughts and continued on your journey.

A few days passed but you finally reached your destination.

“Who is it?” someone asked. It was a guard.

“Y/n..friend of Michonne’s” the guard looked down and pointed to you before walking down the steps.

Truth be told you were a friend of Michonne’s but you hadn’t actually seen her for a good while. The gate opened and some familiar faces stood behind it. First to welcome you was Rosita.

She pulled you into a hug exchanging quick hello’s but shortly some other people came out to greet you. A young girl with a cowboy hat had a big smile on her face, “Hey Judith, how have you been?” you said. “I’m good, is uncle Daryl here?” 

You shook your head. “He isn’t very well, I was wondering if I could see Michonne?” It was Judith’s turn to nod her head as she went to get Michonne. Once she came into view you gave her a hug. “Oh, how I’ve missed being here,”

“We’ve missed you, Judith informed me that Daryl isn’t well?”

Everyone was really busy with jobs keeping themselves occupied and earning their keep. You knew how hard it was for Michonne to get to where she was today. “Yes he caught the flu, I was wondering could I borrow some medication from your infirmary?” 

You knew how blunt it was to ask but Michonne knew that you wouldn’t come here if he was just a bit ill. “Of course you can, any chance you can stay a bit longer?”

Michonne asked Siddiq to grab some medication whilst you pondered your thoughts. “I..look sorry but I’m on a tight schedule today” you saw her eyes dart down. “..but I can try and see if I can come another day this week and maybe I can bring Daryl” 

Judith suddenly had a bigger smile on her face, “I miss uncle Daryl,” she stated.

“We would love to have you both here whenever you can” Michonne replied. You hugged them both and saw siddiq arrive with the medication. 

“Here it is, take two of these twice a day and there should be enough for atleast a weeks worth. I hope he gets better”

You thanked siddiq and gave him a hug before placing it into your satchel. “So..are you and Daryl a thing?” a voice said.

You turned your head to see Eugene standing next to Rosita who was now smiling and almost laughing. “What do you mean?” 

“Well..you are of the female anatomy and he is of the male anatomy so theory indicates the longer you spend with a person the more the physical attraction begins and corresponding with that is a relationship” Eugene explained.

Your eyes widened as he talked. “Okay first off, that could have been a much shorter explanation and secondly no we aren’t in a relationship,”

Rosita put her hair in a bobble and chuckled. “Really? So you’re saying you and Daryl who have been alone together haven’t even kissed?”

You shook your head at her question. “Have you slept-”

“No! Stop asking”

You’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit you like him but he never showed any interest romantically or maybe he did in his own way. “Look I don’t know okay, we just never decided to date and it isn’t exactly the right time”

“Yes but when is the right time?” Rosita asked. Your silence filled the air and you began tapping the strap of your satchel. “Okay but don’t blame me if he doesn’t feel the same”

At this point you were itching to get back and hoping Daryl didn’t get worse. “Wait, so you do like him?”

“No-just…forget it I need to get back. I promise I’ll come visit again soon” Rosita slowly nodded her head and you all gave each of them a hug before parting ways and continued on with your journey to get back to Daryl. They had given you a bicycle to use so you would get back a bit quicker and it gave you a break from walking; you also was given a tin of soup.

It had been a few hours since you set off and finally you were back where you needed to be. Placing your bike down, you walked through the trees to see Dog sitting in front of the tent. “Is Daryl okay?” almost in response a whine left his mouth. You opened your satchel to take out the medication and opened the tent. Daryl was wide awake just staring at the roof of the tent. “Hey..” you said. His eyes looked at you and a smile was present on his face. Your heart warmed at the sight of him, you took a few steps to him and handed him the medication.

“Siddq gave these to me for you, gotta take two a day” you handed him a bottle of water. Daryl took it and grabbed one pill and swallowed it. “Thank you”

You both looked at each other the silence taking over, neither one of you looked away. Daryl grabbed a blanket and pulled it closer to him still looking at you but he mumbeled something that you couldn’t quite catch. “You hungry?” you said. 

Daryl nodded his head at you, “Yeah but, don’t go out ya way to hunt somethin”

You bit your lip slightly thinking what to do, suddenly you had an idea. You remembered the can of soup in your bag. The only thing you needed to do was heat it up. Emptying the can, you poured it into a mug. Some sticks were laying around so you picked them up and started a fire to put the soup on to heat up.

Once it was ready you picked it up and gave it to Daryl. “Are you not havin’ anythin’?” he asked you. “No, I’m alright”

Truth be told you couldn’t care about food you just wanted to make sure he was okay and besides if you were really hungry you would go hunting. Daryl began eating the soup and eventually he finished it. Smiling, you took the mug and checked his temperature. “You’re still a bit hot but hopefully the fever settles, need anything else let me know”

Daryl started frowning which took you aback. “Ya don’t need to look after me, I’m fine”

“Daryl, you have a fever..you’re coughing and you can barely get up without your head hurting” 

He only looked down avoiding your eyes. “Still I don’t want you to force yourself to look after me m’fine”

Now it was your turn to frown. You walked over to him sitting down besides him taking in his appearance from his brown curls, all the way down to the faint mud stains on his fingers. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him like this, “I’m looking after you because I want to, not because I’m forced to. Daryl I’ve known you since this damned world ended but I’ve never been forced into making sure you’re okay”

He stayed silent not knowing whether to talk or let you continue on. “I care for you Daryl and probably a lot more than you realise”

Daryl’s eyes stayed between yours, you guided your hand to put it on his cheek. “Don’t ever think that I’m only looking after you cause I have to..I want to and-”

“Can I kiss ya?” he interrupted.

You swallowed hard forgetting the rest of your sentence, your eyes never left his and he never left yours. It felt like you had butterflies in your stomach and an ache in your chest. “I-um, sure if you want to,”

Daryl put his hand on top of yours and kissed you. It was as if the world stopped for a moment..like the life left stayed silent and disappeared just so you could have your moment. You pulled away resting your head against his, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,”

You didn’t care if you were to get ill now you just wanted to appreciate and savour the moment. “Why did you want to kiss me?” you asked him. 

He looked at you again (his hand still in yours) “Because I’ve been wantin’ to for a while, why did you let me?”

“Because as it turns out I’ve been wanting to for a while as well,” You put a strand of his hair behind his ear, “..and once you’re better I promised Judith we would go see her, I know you miss her”

“I would like that”

Eventually you both ended up falling asleep in his arms with dog sitting in between. After all, things have a way of working out if not in the way nature intended. 

Thank you for reading..the ending wasn't what i exactly planned so i hope u like it.

Also check out my young!daryl fic which is apart of my two hearts au pre apocolpyse. Here is masterlist

tags for this fic: @ang3l0fthursday @ihyperfixateoncharacters @baldeagle21

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material Ch 9 (Captain Price Fic) - The Set Up!

Chapter 1  Chapter 1 (Shorter Version) Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

@darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal(To the other’s who want me to tag you when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments) A/N: Hello, everyone! So, it seems the Captain has you right where he wants you. No matter how much you try to slip away, there’s no escaping him—he’s determined, and he will have you. 😉 This chapter might feel a little longer as I’ve focused on building up the chase and the tension between you two. But I promise, it’s worth it! If you’re feeling impatient, feel free to scroll ahead to when the Captain finally ‘captures’ you. 😏 LOL! Enjoy the ride, and let me know what you think! ❤️

The door creaked open, and in stepped the doctor, holding a clipboard with the results of Y/N's x-rays and scans. He gave her a once-over, then glanced at the paper before meeting her eyes.

"Alright, Ms. Y/N, good news. No concussion, your neck’s just a little twisted from the impact. Your arm, though—well, that’s definitely going to need some time to heal, but we can work with it." He made a note, looking at her bandaged face. "The cuts on your face will need some care, but nothing too serious. Just take some painkillers when you eat, and you should be good to go."

Y/N sighed in relief but winced at the sting of her injuries. She was just about to ask if she could leave without the next part when the doctor added, “Now, we need someone to sign for you to be discharged and for the medication prescription. I’m assuming your partner—” He paused, glancing at Price, who was still leaning against the bed, looking annoyingly perfect—“can handle that?”

Before Y/N could protest, Price was already nodding, a smirk playing on his lips. "Aye, I can do that," he replied smoothly, as though he’d been expecting it.

The doctor, clearly oblivious to the irritation bubbling up inside her, glanced between them with a raised eyebrow, then nodded and scribbled something down on his clipboard. “Great. I’ll get the paperwork ready. Just make sure she follows the painkiller instructions.”

Y/N glared at Price, her good arm crossed over her chest. “I swear, if you start acting like we’re actually a couple—”

Price shot her a quick, playful wink. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, love!”

The doctor left, and Y/N turned to look at Price, narrowing her eyes. “You’re unbearable,” she muttered.

Price leaned in closer, his voice lowering to something almost flirtatious. “You know you like it.”

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes, but it was impossible to ignore the spark of something—embarrassment, frustration, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of... affection?

As the minutes dragged on, Y/N lay there, staring at the sterile ceiling, her mind racing but her body unable to do anything more than ache in protest. Price sat beside her, arms crossed, exuding a mix of concern and frustration, and it was clear to her that the tension between them was building. The hum of hospital activity around them did nothing to break the silence, only adding to the weight in the air. She could feel his eyes on her, practically searing through her skin, and she didn’t know if it was his gaze or the pain in her arm that was making her more uncomfortable.

Finally, Price broke the silence with an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got some bloody nerve, you know that? Running around like a madwoman, getting yourself hurt like that.”

Y/N turned her head towards him, raising an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement breaking through the discomfort. “Excuse me?”

He leaned forward, his voice low but filled with that trademark commanding tone she couldn’t escape. “The moment I found out... and then seeing all those bloody gifs from your colleagues flooding the chat... I knew I had to come see for myself. Make sure you weren’t in a body bag. All for what? A USB?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the guilt trying to creep in. “I wasn’t the one in the body bag, now was I?”

“No, but you nearly bloody were!” He shot back, his voice sharp with frustration. “You fought someone twice your size, for god’s sake. What the hell were you thinking? And that slap to your face—” He gestured toward the ugly bruise on her cheek. “That wasn’t exactly part of the plan, was it?”

Y/N winced at the reminder but quickly covered it with a snarky smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I have asked them to go easier on me? I had to do what I had to do, Price. That USB had information that would’ve blown the whole operation to pieces. If I didn’t keep it safe, we’d be looking at a lot more than a bruise on my face.”

Her tone shifted, just a touch of defiance in her voice. “I did what I had to do. And they fought the wrong bitch. Unfortunately for them, though, I’m too bloody good at what I do.”

Price scowled, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer. “Don’t make it sound like it’s just another day at the office, Y/N. You’re not invincible. You can’t just take a hit and keep moving.” His voice softened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze remained. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Her eyes softened, a small, almost imperceptible smile pulling at her lips, but she wasn’t about to let him have the last word just yet. “What do you care? I’m an operator. It’s my job. It’s not like—”

She stopped, realizing she had said too much. But before she could backpedal, Price cut her off, his voice suddenly more serious.

“I care because, damn it, I don’t want to see you thrown around like that. You’re not just some bloody operator to me.”

The way he said it, with so much sincerity, made her heart stutter in her chest. His usual teasing edge was gone, replaced by something raw, something real. She didn’t know how to respond, how to fight back against the warmth creeping up her neck.

“John…” she whispered, her voice wavering slightly. She wanted to say something sarcastic, to brush off the strange flutter in her chest, but his steady gaze had her frozen. It was almost as if, for the first time, he was letting her see the concern behind the bravado.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, haven’t you?” he said softly, almost to himself.

Y/N was silent for a moment, her pulse racing. She didn’t know what to say, how to make light of it, how to respond without revealing too much. Finally, she simply said, "You should probably stop before you start singing ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love’."

Price’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. But then his expression shifted—his gaze darkened, those piercing blue eyes locking onto hers with such intensity that her breath hitched. It was the look. The one that said more than words ever could.

Y/N felt her stomach flip, her heart racing faster than she could process. She tried to look away, but his stare held her captive, his blue eyes pulling her in like a magnet. The room seemed to shrink, the noise of the hospital fading into nothing as she became acutely aware of every inch of him sitting so close. She felt her face heat up, warmth spreading across her cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Price…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She had to look away, had to break the spell he’d cast over her. But her body wouldn’t cooperate. Her eyes fluttered, and for the first time, she couldn’t find the right words to shield herself from the effect he had on her.

He leaned in just a little, his gaze never leaving hers. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice low, the teasing edge gone, replaced by something softer. Something that made her heart feel like it might burst out of her chest.

Y/N had never wanted to look away more in her life, but she couldn't. She swallowed hard, her mind spinning in a haze, cursing the fact that her face was no doubt as red as a tomato.

"Never mind," she muttered, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She quickly turned her head, avoiding his intense gaze, though she could still feel the weight of it on her skin.

Her eyes darted to the side, desperate to find something—anything—to focus on other than him. But she swore she caught the smallest, most self-assured grin tugging at the corner of Price’s lips. It was as though he knew exactly what he was doing to her, and it made her feel utterly exposed.

She shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of how her pulse quickened every time she thought about his gaze. She didn’t know how to escape it, and for the first time, Y/N realized there was no hiding from the effect John Price had on her.

----------

Price insisted on driving her home, a suggestion that, under normal circumstances, Y/N might have entertained. But these weren’t normal circumstances. She was still too suspicious, too guarded to let him know where she lived. The last thing she needed was him showing up unannounced, and she wasn’t about to let him in on that little detail.

“I’m fine, Price,” she said quickly, sitting up a little straighter. “I’ll head to the unit’s base. My stuff’s there, and I’ve got work tomorrow. I’ll be better off just sleeping there for the night. You know, book in at camp, like we sometimes do.”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening in that way she knew all too well. “Book in? You sure about that? Something smells off.”

Y/N waved him off with a feigned nonchalance, trying her best to sound convincing. “I’m fine, seriously. No need to worry about me.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’ve got that ‘I’m trying to get away from you’ look on your face. What’s really going on?”

She met his eyes, her resolve firm. “Nothing’s going on. Just, you know, work stuff. Base. I'll go home tomorrow.”

Price just stared at her for a moment longer, then sighed, clearly giving in to whatever bizarre reasoning she had going on. “Fine. If you’re so determined, I’ll take you back to the base. But this isn’t over.”

“Great, thanks,” she muttered, trying to suppress a grin. She had won this round.

----------

Once they arrived at the unit’s base, Y/N made a swift exit, eager to put some space between herself and Price. She stepped out of the lift, onto her floor, and walked briskly down the hallway toward the unit’s office. Before she could make it inside, however, a loud chorus of voices stopped her in her tracks.

Her colleagues had clearly been waiting for her, and as she stepped into the room, they erupted into loud cheers and applause.

“Look who’s back! The turtle’s shell is tougher than we thought!” one of them called out with a wide grin, prompting an exaggerated cheer from the others.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop it, you lot. I didn’t ask for a bloody welcome back party.”

Another colleague, waving a mock trophy above his head, added, “Give it up for Y/N, the toughest of them all! No one’s messing with the turtle!”

Her teammates were practically in hysterics, and the teasing continued for several minutes before it finally died down. Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to keep her composure, but deep down, she couldn't help but feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest. It was moments like this—surrounded by her quirky, loyal team—that made all the madness of the job worth it.

“Alright, alright,” she said with a raised hand in mock surrender, her grin impossible to hide.

As her colleagues finally began to disperse, she let out a deep breath, still chuckling at their ridiculous antics. But despite the laughter, her mind wandered back to her earlier encounter with Price—and how, for a brief moment, she almost didn’t mind the idea of him getting a little too close.

----------

Later that evening, Captain Price discovered the truth. Y/N wasn’t staying the night at the base as she had claimed. He saw her—half waddling, half hopping—onto the unit’s bus just as it was about to depart. It was meant to take staff to the nearby train station, a clear sign that she was heading home despite her earlier insistence.

The sight of her settling into a window seat on the crowded bus made him pause. Y/N, caught off guard, locked eyes with him through the glass. Her face froze in surprise for a split second before she quickly turned her head, pretending she hadn’t seen him. Her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her bag as she tried to appear indifferent.

Price stood there outside, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t have to say a word; the weight of his stare said enough. Y/N could feel it pressing on her even as she resolutely avoided looking back.

Her only saving grace was that tomorrow was the weekend. She wouldn’t have to face him—or his inevitable questions—for at least two days. ----------

Y/N stretched lazily on her sofa, her stomach pleasantly full from her third takeout meal of the weekend. A collection of cartons cluttered her coffee table, evidence of her commitment to staying in. Wrapped in her coziest blanket, she scrolled idly through the endless void of streaming options, her mind blissfully blank—except for the persistent notifications on her phone.

Captain Price.

The messages had started Friday evening, a steady stream of charm, wit, and mild exasperation, each one left on read. Ignoring him had been easy at first, the kind of defiance that felt both amusing and oddly satisfying. But by Sunday, the guilt was beginning to creep in, as was the awareness that she was, perhaps, enjoying his attention a little too much.

Friday Evening Price: "Ah, so you are seeing these. Leaving me on read, are we? Cheeky. How about this: a quiet drink, no fuss. Just say the word, and I’ll pick the spot."

Saturday Morning Price: "Still not a peep from you. I’ll bet you’re curled up in bed, hiding under a duvet and feeling quite smug. Enjoy it while you can, love. I’m not that easy to ignore."

Saturday Lunchtime Price: "Alright, Y/N. What’s it going to be—coffee, tea, or something stronger? Whatever it is, my treat. Unless, of course, you’ve decided to make ghosting me your weekend hobby."

Saturday Evening Price: "You’ve got a talent for this, I’ll give you that. Leaving me on read again. What’s the matter, too shy to say no? Let me make it easy for you—just meet me for a bite. No questions, no pressure. Don’t let me starve alone, eh?"

She chuckled softly at that one, but still didn’t respond. Her takeaway had arrived moments later, and her commitment to laziness outweighed any inclination to text back.

Sunday Morning Price: "You’re relentless, aren’t you? Can’t even send me a cheeky little ‘no thanks.’ Fine, I’ll play your game. But if you’re still hiding come midday, don’t think I won’t find out where that flat of yours is."

Her eyes lingered on that one a little longer, her lips twitching into a smirk. She shook her head and set her phone aside. He was bluffing. Probably.

Sunday Lunchtime Price: "Alright, love, this is getting predictable now. Another takeaway, is it? No shame in admitting you’ve run out of ideas. Let me take you somewhere. I promise I won’t bite… unless you ask."

Her laughter bubbled up unbidden as she read the latest message, a part of her almost tempted to respond. But the lure of her blanket and the promise of another nap won out. She placed her phone face down and curled up, thinking smugly that he’d give up eventually.

But then, her phone buzzed again. This time, something about it made her pause. She reached for it hesitantly, her heart skipping a beat as she unlocked the screen.

"You’ve got a wicked streak, leaving me hanging like this. But fair warning, Y/N—I’m even more wicked when I’m crossed."

A moment later, another message buzzed in.

"Monday’s coming, love. You think you’ve won this little game of hide and seek, but let me tell you exactly how it’ll play out. First, I’ll find you the second you walk into the office. Don’t bother looking for an escape—I’ll already be there, waiting."

"And when I do, you’ll have to face me, love. Every glance you’ve been dodging, every word you’ve ignored—it’s all catching up to you. I’ll stand so close you’ll feel my breath against your ear, hear every word I’ve been saving just for you."

"I’ll tell you how much I’ve enjoyed watching you test me all weekend, how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing that pretty face go red when you realize you’ve pushed me too far. And then, Y/N, I’ll make sure you know exactly what happens when you leave me on read again. Ignoring me wasn’t the safer option, was it?"

Y/N’s hand froze mid-swipe on her phone, her heart thudding against her ribs. She could practically feel the heat of his gaze through the screen. The words lingered like a challenge, daring her to respond, but instead, her thoughts raced.

Monday loomed ahead, and with it came the inevitability of seeing Price. If he caught her, there’d be no way to avoid the fallout. The office teasing would go from lighthearted to unbearable in an instant. After all, they were already buzzing with rumors that Captain Price fancied her. The jokes and side-eyes were one thing, but if she gave him an inch, it could spiral into something far worse.

Unprofessional. Embarrassing. Impossible to ignore.

She reminded herself that this wasn’t forever. Just one more week. One week of keeping her head down, playing cordial when necessary, and dodging Price’s relentless pursuit. When her reservist period ended, she could vanish—no awkward confrontations, no more tension.

With that plan in mind, she took a deep breath, determined to defuse the situation. Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, finally drafting a reply she hoped would put him off—without fanning the flames.

"I’m sorry, Captain, for the late response. My dominant hand is the one injured, and I can’t really type easily," she typed, knowing it wasn’t entirely a lie. Her arm had been hurt during the operation and again when she got hit by the police van. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

She hesitated before adding, "As for drinks and dinner, sorry—I’m not feeling well. The painkillers and meds are making me drowsy." Another half-truth.

Satisfied, she hit send, her heart still pounding as the message delivered.

A few minutes after sending the message, her phone buzzed again—this time, a call. She wasn’t even surprised. Of course, it was the Captain.

Y/N stared at the screen, debating whether to answer. She had already crafted the perfect excuse in her message; surely that should have been enough. But the insistent ringing told her otherwise. With a sigh of resignation, she tapped the screen, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Captain,” she said softly, infusing her voice with just enough weariness to sell her excuse. She wasn’t feeling her best, that much was true, but she leaned into the sluggish tone, exaggerating it just a touch.

His deep voice cut through, warm and laced with concern. “You don’t sound well, love. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I didn’t want to trouble anyone,” she replied carefully, keeping her tone neutral. “It’s nothing serious, just the meds making me tired.”

“Still, you should’ve let someone know. You’ve been through the wringer; no one would’ve blamed you for taking it easy.”

She hummed faintly, feigning drowsiness. “I’ll be fine, Captain. Just need to rest.”

There was a pause, long enough to make her glance at the screen to check if the call had dropped. But then his voice came through again, low and insistent. “If you need anything—and I mean anything—you let me know. Don’t go toughing it out on your own.”

“Of course,” she replied, her tone measured. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Get some rest,” he added, the warmth in his voice undeniable. “And Y/N... don’t think for a second I’ll let you off the hook for dodging me all weekend.”

She smiled faintly despite herself. “Goodnight, Captain.”

“Goodnight, love.”

She ended the call, sinking back into her sofa with a quiet exhale. Neutral or not, conversations with Captain Price always left her feeling like she’d just walked a tightrope.

---------

And so, Monday arrived. Y/N was officially excused from the drills due to her injuries, leaving her with more downtime than she cared for. By the afternoon, she had retreated to the rooftop, seeking a quiet moment to herself. The crisp air and the hum of distant activity below offered a brief reprieve.

She wasn’t startled by the sound of footsteps approaching or the creak of the rooftop door swinging open. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

John Price.

The Captain strode toward her with the same calm, unshakable confidence he carried everywhere, his boots crunching softly on the rooftop gravel. His eyes locked onto hers, steady and intense, as he stopped just a few feet away.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, tinged with amusement, “I’d say you put up a good fight this whole time. But technically... you lost.”

Y/N sighed, her fingers momentarily clenching into fists at her sides. Of course. That deal. That ridiculous deal. If he outscored her in the drills, she’d agree to a date. Now, with her injuries keeping her sidelined, she hadn’t even had a chance to compete.

“That’s not exactly fair,” she shot back, leaning into her chair, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “I couldn’t even join the drills. Doesn’t exactly feel like a win for you.”

Price tilted his head slightly, a teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Rules are rules, love. No score from you means my score wins by default. Doesn’t seem like a problem for me.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh through her nose, frustration mixing with reluctant amusement. “So, what? You’re here to rub it in?”

“Not my style,” he replied smoothly, though the glint in his eye said otherwise. He took a step closer, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m here to collect. You owe me a date. After your reservist period, of course. I’ll give you time to prepare yourself.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, caught between irritation and something else she wasn’t ready to admit. “Fine. After the reservist,” she replied finally, her voice firm, though her lips betrayed a faint, reluctant smirk.

Price grinned back, triumphant but impossibly charming. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Her lips twitched as though she might scowl, but she kept her composure. Instead, she turned her gaze back toward the horizon, letting his words linger in the air.

Keep cordial, her inner voice urged. Make it look like you gave up. Just until the reservist period.

----------

Throughout the week, Y/N kept things cordial with Captain Price, her responses measured and her expression neutral. She made sure to maintain a distance, neither too distant nor too familiar. Her usual sharp edge was subdued, but she wasn’t about to let herself get too comfortable, not with the promise of a date hanging over her head.

On the final day of her reservist period, Y/N made her rounds, bidding her chief and colleagues farewell. She offered a polite smile, keeping it brief. "See you all for the next round," she said, her voice calm and steady. She’d done what she came for—no more, no less.

She surrendered her building pass, her movements slow and deliberate, the weight of the week pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her mind was already elsewhere, focused on the quiet evening ahead. The plan was simple: order a ride from the app, go home, and finally take a moment to breathe.

But as she walked toward the gate entrance, her steps faltered. There, leaning casually against his vehicle, was John Price. Arms crossed, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but commanding all the same. The sight of him made her heart skip an unexpected beat.

She hadn’t expected him to be there, not like this, not after the deal had been made. She stopped a few paces away, the weight of the evening, the past week, settling into her chest.

Y/N schooled her expression into neutrality, masking the flicker of surprise that threatened to surface. She came to a stop a few paces away, meeting his steady gaze without wavering.

“Captain,” she said evenly, her tone as measured as her face. “What are you doing here?”

Price straightened slightly, his arms uncrossing as he pushed off the vehicle with an easy grace. His hands slid into his pockets, his demeanor as unhurried as ever. “Thought I’d drive you home,” he replied, his voice calm but laced with a teasing undertone. “Get you comfy, send you off proper.”

Her brows lifted, skepticism flickering across her features before she quickly subdued it. “I thought we had plans for the weekend,” she countered, tilting her head. “Isn’t that what you’re waiting for?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, the faintest hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “We do,” he confirmed, his voice low and deliberate. “But I figured tonight’s about seeing you off, not keeping you waiting. Besides,” he added, stepping closer, “I wanted to make sure you didn’t disappear on me.”

Y/N held her ground, her gaze steady despite the subtle tightening of her grip on her bag. “I gave you my word,” she said simply. “I’m not backing out.”

Price’s grin widened slightly, his head dipping in acknowledgment. “Good,” he murmured, his tone carrying the weight of certainty. “Then let me take care of you tonight. Call it a preview of what’s to come.”

She sighed softly, shifting her weight but making no move to walk past him. “I can handle getting home on my own, you know.”

Y/N sighed softly, her voice steady despite the weariness weighing on her words. “Captain, we’re already seeing each other this weekend. Can’t that be enough?” She straightened her posture slightly, trying to inject just enough firmness into her tone. “I’m tired. I’d really like some space tonight. Besides, I’ve already booked a ride—it’ll be here any minute to take me home.”

Price tilted his head, his lips quirking into that infuriatingly knowing smirk. “Booked a ride, huh?” he drawled, his tone edged with playful suspicion. “Sounds a bit fishy to me.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she let out a quiet, deliberately exasperated sigh, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Fishy? Really?” she asked, her voice drowsy, tired, as if the conversation itself was draining her. “What could possibly be fishy, Captain? You’ve already got me cornered, don’t you? What else is there?”

For a moment, he didn’t reply. Instead, he looked at her, his cerulean blue eyes piercing and unyielding. The intensity of his gaze felt like it could strip away every layer she’d carefully constructed, leaving her flustered and raw. Y/N could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, her throat tightening slightly as she swallowed hard. She considered looking away but found herself unable to break the moment. Against all odds, she held his gaze, her breath catching in her chest.

Her heart raced, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was from the exhaustion or the way his stare seemed to unravel her with disarming ease. It was as if the entire world had narrowed to just the two of them, the quiet tension filling the air like a tangible presence.

Just then, the sound of a car pulling up shattered the spell. Y/N blinked, the moment breaking as her ride arrived, offering a welcome distraction. Price glanced toward the vehicle, his smirk softening into something less teasing, more gentlemanly. Without a word, he stepped forward, pulling the door open for her with effortless grace.

Y/N murmured a quiet thanks, slipping into the car with relief as her pulse began to steady once more.

----------

Saturday arrived, and much to Price’s chagrin, his suspicions were confirmed—she had ghosted him. His messages went unanswered, his calls ignored, and every attempt to reach her was met with the cold reality of being left on read. At first, he tried to rationalize it. She was recovering, after all—injuries from the last operation and being hit by a van weren’t minor. Surely, she just needed time to herself.

But the nagging doubt refused to be silenced. Something didn’t sit right. Price wasn’t one to let things slide easily, especially not when it came to her. Eventually, suspicion got the better of him. He picked up the phone and called Gaz.

“Check on her, mate,” Price said, his tone firm but edged with an undercurrent of frustration. “See if she’s alright or if she’s just... dodging me.”

Gaz, ever loyal, agreed with a chuckle and promised to get back to him.

When Gaz finally called back, his voice carried that unmistakable tone of amusement. “Price,” he began, clearly holding back a laugh, “I hate to break it to you, but it looks like Y/N’s ghosting you. She’s fine. Healthy, alive, and very capable of responding—injuries or not. She’s just… apparently not interested in answering you.”

Price groaned, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. Gaz's teasing on the other end only made it worse. “You’re really going to let her play you like that, Captain?”

Price shot back, trying to suppress his irritation, “I’m not letting her play me. I just need to get her attention.”

Gaz’s voice was laced with amusement as he responded, “Need some help, Captain? You want me to help smoke her out, get her to show her hand?”

Price paused, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. The idea wasn’t half bad. He might’ve preferred a more subtle approach, but if it came to coaxing her out of whatever funk she was in, he’d take any route that worked.

“Yeah,” Price muttered after a beat. “Smoke her out. Let’s see if we can get her to respond.”

Gaz chuckled. “Roger that, Captain. I’ll keep you posted.”

----------

A day later, Gaz messaged Y/N, inviting her out for another meal at the grill house. “Fresh out of reservist, thought you’d fancy a proper catch-up with the team,” he wrote, his tone lighthearted and familiar.

Y/N hesitated before responding. “I really can’t go out right now,” she explained. “Still healing from the injuries. Maybe once I’m fully healed up, I’ll join you guys again. Heck, I can’t even use my dominant arm to put on makeup or cover the scars on my face.”

Gaz read the message and nodded to himself, respecting her honesty. “Fair enough,” he replied. “Rest up. We’ll catch up when you’re back to full strength.”

The days turned into weeks. With time, Y/N began to recover, though it was a gradual process. The bruising faded within a month, and while her broken arm and leg required more time—closer to 8-10 weeks for proper healing—she was at least mobile again, albeit cautiously. By then, she could sense the weight of her inactivity lifting, her focus shifting toward regaining her full independence.

----------

Y/N opened her phone and checked the group chat, where one of her friends had organized a dinner at a sleek, smart-casual bar for the upcoming Friday night. It sounded like the perfect opportunity to get out, and nearly everyone would be there, including Gaz.

She typed a quick reply, “That sounds perfect. I have something scheduled that day, but I’ll be able to catch up with all of you afterward. I’ll be looking presentable enough after my meeting with the gallery curator. It’s a nice bonus that the bar is smart-casual, so I won’t have to worry about changing. I’m almost back to normal now—my arm’s almost fully functional, and I can walk without wobbling.”

The chat quickly filled with confirmation messages. It was settled—the group would meet on Friday night. Some of her friends couldn’t make it as they were deployed or on duty, but a good portion would be there, and Gaz would be joining them as well.

The meeting with the curator was later that day, and it went better than she’d hoped. He loved her work and was eager to feature her pieces in an upcoming exhibit. The only thing left was to wait for the official paperwork to sign once the contract was finalized.

After the meeting wrapped up successfully, Y/N headed to the bar. It was sleek and modern, exactly the kind of place where she could unwind after a busy day. When she walked in, the warm glow of the bar greeted her, and she quickly spotted her friends gathered around a large table. They greeted her with cheers and hugs, their laughter blending easily with the soft buzz of the place.

The table was filled with canapés, finger foods, and cocktails, everyone sharing bites and chatting comfortably. It was mostly her close lady friends, with Gaz as the only guy in the group. Some of the others couldn’t make it due to duty or deployment, but it didn’t dampen the mood. Y/N smiled as she settled in, feeling a wave of contentment as she finally had a moment to relax and enjoy the evening

As the evening wore on, more drinks and food made their rounds, fueling laughter and stories that bounced from one person to the next. The atmosphere was light, filled with the easy camaraderie of good friends catching up. Y/N, feeling the effects of the drinks and the good time, excused herself to the restroom, tossing a playful request to one of her friends. "Watch my bag for me, yeah?"

She returned moments later, her steps quick as she anticipated diving back into the fun. But as she approached the table, her brow furrowed in confusion. The table where her friends had been sitting was now empty. All the glasses and platters of finger foods that had once littered the surface were completely cleared away. Her eyes scanned the bar, only to find that everyone had vanished—everyone, including Gaz.

"What the hell?" she muttered to herself, half-expecting to find some sort of mix-up. Had they really just gotten up and left without a word? Why would they do that? It felt... off. Her eyes darted around the room, but there was no sign of her friends. No lingering goodbyes, no explanations.

And then, she spotted him.

Sitting where she had been just moments ago, as if he'd always been part of the scene, was none other than John Price. He was dressed in smart casual—fitting the ambiance of the evening, but with that added flair of his usual commanding presence. Arms crossed over his chest, he looked at her with that infuriatingly smug, victorious grin that always managed to make her feel like she’d lost some sort of battle.

This must be why everyone disappeared. A setup. A setup by John and Gaz.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of her Chanel bag resting comfortably on his lap. The bag, the one she'd inherited, and more importantly, the one that contained her essentials—her phone, her wallet, her cards, tissues, and yes, even her meds—lay there in his hands, as if it was a trophy.

She blinked, then stepped closer, feeling her lips twitch into a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Are you kidding me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

Price didn’t even flinch. He just leaned back slightly, clearly amused at the scene unfolding before him, and tossed a cheeky glance toward her. "You took too long," he said smoothly, his voice low and teasing. "Figured I’d make myself comfortable while I waited."

His blue eyes scanned her, taking in every detail from head to toe before returning to her face. A playful grin tugged at his lips. "You look stunning," he said, his voice smooth. "Didn't know there was this side of you—besides the muddy aprons, overalls, and tactical uniforms. Not that you weren't beautiful then, but... there's something about you when you're all put together."

She stood before him, dressed in an off-shoulder navy blue midi dress that elegantly flowed to mid-calf. The neckline revealed her collarbone and her petite, delicate shoulders—features that had him fighting the urge to lean in closer. The sleeves of the dress were slightly puffed at the shoulders, tapering down to fitted cuffs at her wrists, adding just the right touch of drama to her polished look.

On her feet, a pair of navy blue velvet pumps completed the ensemble, elongating her legs and accentuating her graceful posture.

Her makeup was understated yet stunning, enhancing her natural beauty. Her well-groomed eyebrows framed her eyes perfectly, while a subtle smoky eyeshadow with neutral tones made her gaze captivating. A thin line of eyeliner defined her upper lash line, complemented by mascara-coated lashes that gave her eyes a soft, smoldering depth. A rosy blush brought warmth to her cheeks, while a bold satin mauve lipstick drew attention to her lips.

Her jewelry was minimal yet refined—a pair of gold hoop earrings added a hint of sophistication, while a delicate gold necklace with an intricate blue-eye gem pendant rested lightly against her collarbone, catching the light with every slight movement.

Her hair was styled in long, loose waves that cascaded down her shoulders and back. The soft, voluminous texture of her hair, parted in the middle, framed her face beautifully, striking the perfect balance between elegance and effortlessness.

John’s gaze lingered a moment longer, his appreciative smile deepening.

She exhaled an exasperated sigh, stepping forward with determination as she reached for her bag. Yet, his long arms moved swiftly, keeping it just out of her grasp. Her frustration mounted, but before she could protest further, his other hand slid around her waist in one fluid motion, pulling her close. Her breath hitched as his head came to rest lightly against her stomach, his blue eyes gleaming with playful defiance as he looked up at her.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, her pulse quickening at the sudden closeness. His hold was steady—not forceful, but firm enough to leave no doubt she wasn’t going anywhere. The smirk tugging at his lips was maddening, and the noise of the room seemed to fade, leaving only the charged space between them.

To anyone glancing their way, anyone who might have seen them at that moment would have easily assumed they were a couple.

"Give back my bag, Captain..." she murmured, her tone a mix of frustration and amusement.

His reply came without hesitation, the timbre of his voice dropping low enough to make her shiver. "No," he said, his grin widening. "How about we strike a deal instead? You owe me for ghosting me, and now..." He paused, letting his words linger between them. "You're going to make it up to me."

She let out an exasperated sigh, though the telltale flush creeping up her cheeks didn’t escape John’s sharp eyes.

“Could you let me go?” she asked, her voice betraying a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he shifted, turning his body fully toward her. Seated as he was, he wrapped his arm more firmly around her waist, trapping her against him. Her hips now pressed lightly against his chest, and he looked up at her with a gaze so intent it made her pulse falter.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with challenge.

She crossed her arms defiantly and turned her head away, refusing to meet his smoldering blue eyes. “What are you playing at?” she muttered.

His smirk deepened. “I’ll tell you what. Keep this up, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here.”

Her head snapped back toward him, eyes narrowing. “You’re a neanderthal!! Oh, You wouldn’t dare!!”

“Try me,” he said, his tone casual but laced with intent.

She stared at him, weighing her options. The sheer audacity of him left her fuming, but the steady determination in his expression left no room for doubt. He would absolutely do it.

For the sake of her dignity—and her reputation—she sighed in defeat. “Fine,” she muttered, her tone laced with reluctant surrender.

John’s victorious grin was infuriating, but she couldn’t deny the spark of heat that danced in her chest. Once again, Captain John Price had won.

John rose from his seat, and her eyes widened as she was suddenly reminded of just how tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing he was. Even in her heels, she barely came up to his chest. The sheer presence of him made her feel small in a way that was both frustrating and... a little disarming.

A slow smile spread across his face as he reached for her hand, his fingers naturally intertwining with hers. She noticed, with some irritation, that he was still holding her bag by the straps in his other hand—clearly not planning to return it anytime soon.

“Uhmm... wait,” she blurted, gesturing vaguely toward the bar. “I need to pay for everything.”

John’s smile widened, his voice calm and reassuring. “Don’t worry about it. Your friends took care of it. They send their compliments... and their best wishes for you to enjoy your time with me.”

Her lips parted in disbelief, and she let out an exasperated groan, her head tilting back slightly. “Ugh, of course they did,” she muttered, the realization sinking in that her friends had been part of this elaborate setup all along.

A/N: And now... the Captain has finally CAUGHT YOU! No more running, no more escaping—you're in his hands now. 😏 So, what happens next when you're completely at his mercy? Get ready for some intense and seductive moments to come... because John Price is about to seduce the hell out of you. Trust me, it’s only just beginning. 😉 Enjoy the ride, and don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Edit: Here is the next chapter------->

[milolovesbmc]

"Old men yaoi" You guys couldn't even handle Whizzer and Marvin

[fairiesthrum]

satoru’s pregnant wife who can’t keep her hands off him. you’re far along now, and he swears that the more your stomach grows with his child, the hornier you get.

he had to keep on his toes around you in order to not get you so worked up. the pregnancy hormones were really getting to you, and you lashed out at him or cried over every little inconvenience. but what he had to be most careful about was the way he touched you.

if his hand lingered a little too long on your waist — the intention wholeheartedly innocent — you’d somehow take that as an invitation to palm his bulge. it’s happened numerous times recently—even in public!

his poor, pregnant wife had no shame nowadays. yeah, he’s done his fair share of groping your ass when others were around, but it was always under a private eye, secret giggles shared between the two of you.

unfortunately, you had picked up the habit of doing it out in the open. he couldn’t count the amount of times people would gawk in horror, all while you continued to browse the baby section, unbothered, as if you hadn’t squeezed his balls like a stress toy in front of dozens of people. maybe you were an exhibitionist?

either way, it was clear your thoughts only consisted of three things as of late: eat, sleep, and fuck.

how could he resolve this? he wanted to cry. this wasn’t fair! why couldn’t you be this thirsty for his cock when you weren’t pregnant? never in his life would he have thought you could out-freak him. and as badly as he wanted to fuck you senseless in return, he had to be gentle—cautious. sex was increasingly dangerous at this stage — according to the doctor after a long night of abusing your needy cunt — and you were driving him to the brink of madness with the way you were acting.

tensions were higher than they’ve ever been, neither of you speaking or acting on it. however, things came to ahead one morning while he was leaving for work. like usual, he stood by the door in his suit, prepared to head out after your usual once-over. it was a domestic routine he looked forward to every morning despite him whining in your ear about how he was going to be late, watching you softly as you “fix” his collar for the millionth time.

satoru wasn’t stupid. he could tell you were stalling for more time with him, not-so discreetly using it as an excuse to touch him. and don’t think he doesn’t notice how you’re practically sniffing him like an animal in heat. he knew just how much you loved the scent of his cologne, and it was as if you couldn’t help yourself around him when you caught a whiff of it.

now, here’s the part where he may have messed up. after your initial aggressive arousal towards him — plus with the advice the doctor gave him on the down low — he made sure to no longer kiss you on the lips in your current state, and instead, opted for your cheek. when you hand him his lunch, he leans himself down to your height, lips puckered to plant a chaste peck on your soft skin.

though, what he hadn’t expected was for you to outmaneuver him, slapping both hands on the sides of his head, tugging him close to the point that he stumbles as you begin to utterly ravish his mouth.

“mff—!”, satoru sputters in protest against your lips, eyes wide open in shock. his lunch slips from his hand, the bag falling to the ground with a thud. shaky hands hover over your waist, your protruding stomach pressing against his hard abdomen as move against him as sensually as you can.

he doesn’t touch you back just yet, but you force him to. gripping his wrists, you bring his large hands up to palm your round, tender breasts that swelled throughout these past few months. your soft, cherry-flavored lips moved against his in desperation, and he finally responds back, moaning into your mouth with just as much fervor, squeezing the plump flush of your soft tits. the whimper you let out to the massage sends a shudder down his spine and goes straight to his cock.

you pull back, and he finds himself chasing after your lips until you plant a firm hand on his chest. his breathing is ragged, pupils dilated as satoru stares down at you through his blindfold. he takes in the sight of your kiss-swollen lips and furrowed brows, certain he appeared just as flustered.

before he can utter a word, you gaze up at him through your lashes, a cheeky glint in your eyes that he knows all too well.

“stay.” you pout, and he almost finds the willpower left in him to say no—

“please?”

you didn’t have to ask him twice.

[sttoru]

pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

[3liza]

man it sucks so many people on here have absolutely convinced themselves that entire categories of consumer goods like perfume are bougie. you are depriving yourself of little treats by just assuming you cant ever afford anything! this isnt an avocado toast post either im not saying 'just save up and buy it lol', i would never say that, what im saying is perfume (that is: scents in liquid, paste, oil or solid form intended to be worn as a personal adornment) as a commodity starts at "free" and gradually increases in price from there. my favorite perfumes are priced everywhere between $0 and $300. one of the most lauded amber scents in the world (regrettably JUST discontinued), "Amber Paste" by Kuumba Made, is one of those little hippie oils you get at Whole Foods and it cost $10.

and im not telling you to wear perfume, obviously people have allergies and shit, or just dont care for it, im talking to the people who WANT to own fragrances. im saying they aren't all going to cost $150.

you can also get unlimited (unlimited over a long enough timeline, they limit you to a couple or three per visit) free samples at a lot of sephoras and nordstroms if you live somewhere that has those stores (this depends on the location and a lot of other organic factors, you'll have to check ahead of time or just try it if you're nearby, it's sort of random). if you're actually buying something at sephora (and they have a lot of stuff that isn't a million dollars as well, despite their branding) ask for every free sample at checkout that they have. they will often load you up, and not just with perfume. secondhand outlets like Value Village and Goodwill also do huge business in perfume because people are ALWAYS donating it.

sephora also does perfume refills. if you actually do buy a full size bottle, they can refill it for much less than buying a whole new bottle of the stuff. i don't know exactly how much it costs because i havent used this service myself. and idk how careful yiou have to be about reeceipts either, but look into it if you bought a full size and its running out

idk it just bums me out there are all these people who actually want perfume and seem to think it's out of their price range. the really basement-tier dupes of popular brand scents are so good these days it's often worth dropping the $10 at Walmart or Rite Aid too.

some of my favorite ever perfumes were some weird crap i got in a crystal wizard store, or a drug store, or a goodwill, or whatever. if you want perfume you can get it

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.

It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that you would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.

He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?

"Satoru, calm down."

He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.

"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."

Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.

That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.

He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.

"Satoru," he sighs.

"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.

"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."

But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.

It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?

The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"My chocolate."

"Your chocolate?"

"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"

"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."

Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?

"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."

He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?

Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.

Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?

He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.

"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."

A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.

"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"

You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."

He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."

[astronomalyy]

Thinking about the lifespans of Dungeon Meshi elves... The fact that they're completely unnatural alters my brain chemistry, because you can tell just how haphazardly the demon implemented their wish. They live five times the length of tall-men, so they age at a fifth of their rate. It's simple maths and the implications are terrifying. No wonder their birth rate and population are declining - their early development is so slow that at the age of two, they're still unable to stand.

They don't reach adulthood until their eighties. What does the infant mortality look like? How many elves succumb to illness or injury before they're fully mature? It only takes one accident to lose the child you've been raising for decades - and could you bring yourself to care for another? Add to that the implication elf culture has no idea how to process grief... just look at the way the Canaries treat Rin after the death of her parents. They're callous and insensitive and detached - part of that's racism, but there's also an element of pure cold ignorance. They don't even recognise the emotion on her face.

And that's just scratching the surface... does elven memory accommodate their extended lifespan? Once you reach two hundred or so, do the years start blurring together? Kabru mentions that their temporal awareness is remarkably poor.

Two years feel like a few months. Their lives are longer but not fuller. They're older but not wiser than the short-lived races, and most refuse to understand this. Those that do grasp it are interesting - namely Otta, who's ostracised for pursuing half-foot women.

A 30-year old elf is a young child; a 30-year old half-foot has entered middle age. Otta is in the equivalent of her late twenties. She knows that her elven lifespan makes her no more mature than a half-foot - but she also acknowledges that it creates a rift between herself and her partners, and not just in the eyes of society. 'She dumps them as soon as they pass 30', but probably not for the reasons Lycion assumes. For this to be a pattern, decades must have passed - it's possible Otta doesn't want to watch them die as she herself barely ages. No doubt some of her previous lovers have already passed away. In the end, all living 400 years accomplishes is leaving them out of sync with the rest of humanity.

Marcille's perhaps the best example. As a half-elf, she's got 95% of her life ahead and the thought terrifies her. She's going to lose everyone she loves, over and over and over again, and this cycle has barely even started. She runs at a different pace. This context adds so much to her dynamic with Falin in earlier chapters.

Marcille loves her! She's scared for her! Maybe even of her! She's grown attached to a short-lived girl who she met as a kid when Marcille was a teaching assistant! Biologically and developmentally, they're the same age, but chronologically she's twice as old as Falin! Considering what happened to her mother, is history repeating itself? Her feelings towards Falin are tangled and messy and fascinating. They're also more than a little homoerotic, which makes Marcille's infantilization of her friend all the more interesting. It feels like her way of resolving their power imbalance, of remaining a responsible (former!) authority figure... but it's also a coping mechanism. She's frightened by the ways Falin is maturing and changing - aging - and keeping her mental image of her friend as young as possible is her way of denying the march of time that's destined to sever their bond.

Marcille's dream of lifespan extension would remove the need for this obfuscation, render them equal... only, they already are! This desire is imposed onto Falin, but it's primarily for Marcille's benefit. Watching her fight for a world nobody wants, for reasons both selfish and altruistic... it's as tragic as it is understandable. I love this manga.

[coconutdays]

seat taker

s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

w.c. 10.6k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)

a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

"right."