#I think he is the type of guy who has a surprise and it's just like “I'm not going to tell you! just wait!!”

[bluem1lls]

Hi! Could you do a fluff Se-mi one shot? Unfortunately I don’t really have any prompt to give you but I think a out of squid game AU would be pretty cool! Like it could be when they first met, or first date sm like that!

I would really appreciate it if you write it, but if not that’s absolutely fine! I hope you have an amazing day! <3

headcanons gf! se-mi

✦ synopsis: never let your annoying best friends to stop you from finding your girlfriend!

tw: a bit of nsfw

authors note: hiii im sorry for the no update, work is killing me but here's this! i hope u like it💓 tysm for the requests!

-> se-mi, who you've met because of a close friends hangout.

"would it be okay if i bring se-mi?" min su asked as i passed the joint to thanos.

"is she cute?" nam gyu asked.

"she's a lesbian" min-su answered with a chuckle.

"oh?" i said as i pay more attention to the conversation.

"she's probably not your type tho, you're so picky" min su said rolling his eyes as i scoffed.

-> se-mi, who was totally your type.

when you two met, you bonded immediately, laughing and smoking together as the other three were sitting on the couch staring.

"what about us man? when it's our turn?" nam-gyu said, watching as she said something that made you blush.

thanos and min su shook their head as they kept smoking.

"i bet i can drink more than you" she said as you laughed. "wanna bet?" she said with a smirk. "if i win, i get your number"

no need. two shots in and you were giving her your number no matter what.

-> se-mi, who texted you while you were passed out on nam gyu's bed as he was sprawled on the floor with thanos's arm around him.

you tried to find your phone, lowering the brightness as you grabbed it while your head throbbed.

pretty girl w the piercings: hi

pretty girl w the piercings: maybe its too soon but would you like to have dinner tonight? we can do something chill :)

-> se-mi, who has you waking up thanos and nam gyu with screams of happiness.

"who died?!" nam-gyu opened his eyes wide.

"min-su?! my boy?" thanos asks, alarmed

"se-mi texted me! she wants to hang out tonight! it's a date!" i said getting up the bed to quickly shower.

"this can't happen anymore bro. she needs to stop getting drunk and sleeping in your room" thanos says to nam gyu as he throws himself into his bed and covers himself with the blankets.

nam gyu blinks. two people already slept in his bed, none of those being him. he sighs as he goes into thanos's room to sleep some more.

"for fucks sakes" he mumbles.

-> se-mi, who's soon arriving to your house.

"i need you two idiots out of here tonight" you said, putting your earrings on and brushing your hair as they stared.

thanos winked as he grabbed his phone to call someone. "we're on our way" i could hear min-su over the phone screaming to thanos, alarmed, because he was on a family reunion. "we're your family too boy! be there in 20" he said, hanging up.

well. they're min-su's problem now.

-> se-mi, who stood there in all back, as she played with her lip piercing, smirking and looking up and down as you open the door.

"hi!"

"hey pretty" she said, as you moved aside, letting her in.

"we're just leaving" she got in as the guys got out, giving a quick head nod to her.

"get laid" thanos shouted from outside.

"she needs it" nam-gyu followed him.

of course you stood there all blushy as she chuckled.

you'll kill them later.

-> se-mi, who brought everything you told her you liked! a horror movie, your favorite snacks, diet coke and ice cream as dessert.

"it's this is okay? maybe i should've bought more things. now i'm nervous maybe it's time for a smoke break-" she rambles too much. you don't give her time to think as you cup her face and kiss her. her eyes widen in surprise but she quickly melts into it.

-> se-mi, who's quickly stopping the makeout sesh to turn on some 'cigarettes after sex' on the speaker.

-> se-mi, who starts hanging out more with the boys and talks a lot about you.

-like a lot. nam-gyu is tired. he has to see you at home and now hear about you??

-> se-mi, who loves chill dates with you, like staying at home and watching some movie.

-> se-mi, who has to get used to the guys because half of the dates probably include them bc they feel left out:(

its like you two are mothers going out with three kids. three very dumb kids (26 year old adults). but you love them and se-mi learns to love them too .. kind of. give her time.

-> se-mi, who not even two months in she's decoring your room with your favorite flowers and a sign that says 'would you let me be your girlfriend?' you kiss her until your lips go numb.

-> gf!se-mi who doesn't know how to keep her hands out of you. her hands on your hips, hugging you from behind, circles on your waist, underneath your shirt.

-> gf!se-mi who loves playing video games. she's SO happy when she finds out you don't actually like playing but you like watching. she buys all your favorite games and plays them all for you

"BABY, TURN RIGHT. I'VE WATCHED THIS 20 TIMES, GO RIGHT" you shout at her.

"do you wANNA PLAY?" she replies, getting exasperated trying to follow your indications.

you pout as you shook your head.

she loves this. wouldn't trade it for the world.

-> gf!se-mi who loves taking you shopping to the mall. clearly for the lingerie stores. probably ends up fingering you in there.

she buys anything you like, baby is poor but she tries SO hard for her girl:(

you're pointing at a plushie?? it's yours.

clothes u like? she knows your size, it's yours.

-> gf!se-mi who discovered your music tastes are so different that she can't believe she's listening to taylor swift and olivia rodrigo songs to learn them for you. she's incredibly down bad.

-> gf!se-mi who gets you a necklace with her initial

"for: baby

it's not because i own you, but because i really know you :)"

-> gf!se-mi who gets SO nervous when you wanna introduce her to ur parents. and she's so happy when they approved her.

-> gf!se-mi that is SOO smart, everytime she helps u study you're moaning.

-> gf!se-mi that's not studying for now, just working. but you are.

and when she sees you burned out? oh she's the first one to be there helping.

"baby, you've been studying for hours, let's take a break"

"i can't sem. my parents-"

"okay okay, let's go through the flashcards again and we'll take a nap, how does that sound?"

-> gf!se-mi that is there when you get a 87 and not a 100. and you're crying about what your parents are going to say while she caress your hair and kisses you.

"we'll start again in a bit if you want to, but for now let it out princess" she kisses your temple.

-> gf!se-mi who everyone stares when she takes you to campus. but she has no idea, she's just looking at you.

-> gf!se-mi who's a fuckgirl in recovery tho..

like the idea of cheating does not cross her mind. but sometimes she smiles. too much.

and maybe some girl is winking at her because god you have a HOT girlfriend.

and she just turns to you, smirking.

"did u see that babe? i haven't lost my charm ;)" she says as you scoff in disbelief. you two end up making out until her brain is too fuzzy to remember what she told you.

"just wanted her to see that you're mine" you say as you clean up any of your messed up lipstick.

her boxers are wet. sticky and wet.

and if someone you know is frequently flirting with her? next time they'll see her, she has three big bruised spots on her neck, and she's SO happy.

one time she had a little admirer at her job who went to see her like three times a week.

baby: she's here!!!!!!!!!!!

me: who???

me: wait.. stalker??

baby: mhm.

and when you leave her on seen, she frowns. she scans everything this girl is taking as she feels her phone vibrating. she checks her messages and oh! it's you!

two photos. one of you in her favorite red lingerie and the second one, you moving aside those pretty panties to send your bare pussy.

she's drooling. and her brain is pretty much broken.

"i-m-m sorry" she stutters to the girl in front of her, who frowns. "min-su cover for me! i'll stay tomorrow" se-mi screams at him and smiles at the girl who looks like her heart got crushed.

-> gf!se-mi who also gets jealous easily. match made in heaven!

give her two seconds before she's eyeing up and down with a cold stare to anyone who's talking to you. her hands grip your waist as they start to roam over your body, she leaves a wet neck kiss as she gets close to your ear.

"bathroom. right now. or you wanna show them you're only my whore? because i'll fuck you right here and i'll make them watch" she whispers on your ear while you're talking, making you shiver.

yeah forget the chat, it wasn't that interesting anyways.

-> gf!se-mi that spends every sundays with you

lazy days, laying in bed hugging and kissing eachother, picking two books out of your book shelf to read for a while. if it's raining?? movie, take out food and a nap.

she just wants to be with you, does not care about anything else.

-> gf!se-mi that if you're into romantic stuff, she's doing her best for her girl. sometimes she forgets tbh but there it is min-su to remind her!

se-mi: 😭 she's mad at me

min-su: it's flower day. according to tik tok, girl's wanna receive a yellow bouquet

se-mi: you're my second favorite person.

and she's at your door 30 minutes after you got mad with a yellow bouquet, smiling behind it.

she really tries.

-> gf!se-mi who knows how to draw so well, she actually draws a bouquet of ur favorite flowers to give u every month.

-> gf!se-mi who finds tik toks about kitties and sends them to you.

you open tik tok once again as you see a new video sent by your girlfriend. is a black cat licking a white cat with a pink bow

semisucks: das us:)

-> gf!se-mi who loves when you do skincare on her but she already has a pretty spotless face. although she uses hand soup to wash her face

-> gf!se-mi who never stopped flirting with you, she has to keep her girl

" you look so good tonight, you're lucky i have a wife or ill be taking you to bed real fast" she says winking as you roll your eyes.

-> gf!se-mi that after two years of dating, wants to move with you.

"you didnt ask for our consent" thanos says, shooking his head no as you both tell them the news.

"you steal our best friend and now you want her to move? that's not happening" nam gyu agrees with him.

you stare at the three of them who are fighting about you like little kids.

"well, i guess its time to bring the second choice" i say to se-mi as she places her head on the table as she mumbles 'fuck'

"she moves here" i say, staring at those two as they stare at eachother.

"fine. but no moaning" thanos says as nam gyu nods.

-> gf!se-mi who hates her birthday, except this year, when you throw her a mini surprise party with nam-gyu, thanos and min-su.

-> gf!se-mi who can't cook... please don't make her.

-> gf!se-mi who protects you and puts you on top of anything.

you're her girl after all.

nsfw hc!

-> gf!se-mi who has an obsession with your tits, when youre riding her? shes having a blast seeing your tits bounce

-> gf!se-mi who fucks u in public places. 100%

-> gf!se-mi who has a broken brain when she sees you with a new lingerie set.

-> gf!se-mi who has a black strap. and god she knows how to use it

-> gf!se-mi who didn't do it right if you're not crying and trembling by the end of the night.

-> gf!se-mi who loves quickies. everytime you two are about to go out you're suddenly 15 minutes late because you just looked so cute in that oufit, that she had to eat you out.

-> gf!se-mi who quiets her whimpers everytime you're eating her out while she's playing with the guys.

"are you okay? focus dip shit" nam-gyu says to her.

she's on her chair, completely flustered and out of breath, biting her lips while you're swirling around her clit.

"i'm- i'm fine" she sttuters as she quickly mutters the mic, her hand grabs your hair. "right there princess"

-> gf!se-mi who loves to hear you while she fucks you. if you're not screaming she's not happy.

-> gf!se-mi that gets extremely frustrated when you tease her in public.

it's okay, she'll make you her slut when you're back home<3

[megwritesriddles]

hiii girlyfriend! i saw you were taking requests and was waiting if you’d consider doing a little drabble where it’s both your and neville’s first time and he’s way more nervous than you so you start to praise him to make him more comfortable and be ends up surprising both of you by being really into it

OR

a nsfw alphabet for neville

thanks and ily! i reread both your neville fics like all the time they’re sooo good!

MDNI 18+

thank you sm for this request and for your comments about my work :')!!! I chose to do the NSFW alphabet because I've always kind of wanted to do one. I did incorporate the praise a little (because Nev is definitely a praise kink kind of guy). I hope you like it!!

word count: 2.2k (i told you i might get carried away)

warning: smut obviously, brief mentions of periods

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Neville is the biggest sweetie ofc. He makes sure to wipe you clean with a warm damp cloth, being extra gentle around where you’re sensitive. He’ll make sure you have water to drink and fetch you some food if you say you’re hungry (I can just imagine him humming to himself as he slices up an apple for you). And ofc loads of cuddles, which is just as much for him as it is for you, he tucks you against his chest and breathes you in, making sure to whisper all sorts of sweet words.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His - I honestly don’t know, I think whatever part of his body you say you like best, he will like best because you like it. I might say hands if he had to choose, I think he loves to touch you and hold hands with you and also gardening which requires a lot of steady hand work. But if you say you like something else best, then he’s highly suggestible to it.

Yours - Your eyes. He’s a romantic, he loves the way you look at him, the way they light up when you spot him across the room. And of course, the way they darken seductively when you want him, the way they flutter closed when he hits just that right spot deep inside you. He could stare into your eyes forever, picking out all the flecks of colour, the way your pupils shrink and dilate.

Ass or boobs? - I want to say ass (because I have way more ass than boobs lol) but something tells me deep down it’s boobs. But he doesn’t care what size they are, huge or barely there; he loves them. He also definitely does admire your ass too, he’s a big fan of both, but leans toward tits. I can see him loving thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think he’s pretty tidy with his cum, he likes to cum inside (condom or not). I don’t see him as the type to splatter your face or tits or anything. If he doesn’t come inside you, it’s either on his own belly or in his pants (when you’re being particularly teasing or he gets too into eating you out).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He just wants to be your good boy. He comes instantly when you first say it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

…. It’s Neville, let’s be real here. I mean, depending on when you meet him, I don’t think he’d be a virgin until like 40 but he’s definitely a super late bloomer in terms of sex, so probably a virgin or only has a body count of 1 when you meet him. He isn’t the type to sleep around, he has to really trust someone he sleeps with. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he’s a super eager learner, not afraid to ask for guidance until he’s a god at pleasing you. Memorises your body which makes him better at it than someone who has lots of experience with various people, it’s a personalised experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s a classic romantic and loves to look into your eyes as you have sex, so missionary is a fave. Cowgirl with you facing him is his ultimate favourite, he loves looking up into your eyes, embracing as you give into pleasure together, you being able to set the pace.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s serious but in a sweet way. If you make a joke he’ll laugh, but he’s unlikely to crack his own. He likes to whisper sweet loving confessions, so he stays serious, but once it’s over, he might be a little more goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He probably didn’t see any reason to shave or anything before the two of you started having regular sex. I can see him trimming intermittently, not for aesthetics but practicality. He’s a real man and doesn’t care about you having a bush, he prefers if you trim a little bit but it won’t stop him going down on you. I think he’d find it odd if you were completely hairless tbh. As long as you keep mostly clean he’s happy to brave the bush. (I feel like there’s a funnier expression for this but it’s not coming to me)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a romantic sweetheart. He’s constantly praising and complimenting you, his arms wrapped around you in an affectionate embrace or his fingers intertwined with yours. He loves kissing from your forehead, down your temple and cheek and finally to your mouth as he slowly presses in and out of you. I think he’s quite slow and gentle as a general rule, liking to take his time with you, only getting a little frantic right before he comes. Kisses literally everywhere, all over your body, gentle and lingering. Eye contact is big for him as I said before, foreheads pressed together and noses brushing.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I can’t see him masturbating all that much, even before he met you. That’s not to say he wasn’t experiencing attraction or arousal, I think he’s just more horny for the emotional element (??? if that makes sense). I don’t think he’ll masturbate when you’re apart, just leaving it so he can feel even better when he finally sees you again. Before he met you I would say he got off once a week, letting most of his boners die in a cold shower or just with time (again it made it better when he finally gave in), especially during his Hogwarts years when he was sharing a dorm. He was more considerate than any of his dormmates. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging, praise (both of you receiving), a teeny bit of degradation (calling him pathetic or needy, nothing too harsh), being called a good boy, lowkey being bound by the vines of some magical plant as you use him to your liking (you didn’t hear this from me, this is only when he’s feeling particularly dirty, it isn’t on his mind most days)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s not one for exhibitionism so almost definitely just the bed, he quite likes using the sofa when he gets his own place but other than that he might occasionally do it in the shower, but he’s not a huge fan of it. He’s all about comfort so a plush surface in private is ideal.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You, plain and simple. When you give him a seductive look, when you praise him (even for something innocuous and unsexy), when you lean over and accidentally push your tits together or your ass out, they way you play with your hair, the way you bite your lip when you focus, when you use that soft sighing voice.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I can never see him being mean or rough. That’s not to say he’s always 100% slow and careful, he loses himself to the feeling sometimes, but generally he’s a gentle guy and it would break his heart to insult you (eg. whore or slut). He’s also not one for slapping or spanking I don’t think, maybe a soft swat on your ass, but nothing harsh enough to leave a bruise. Sorry to some of y’all, I don’t make the rules, he’s a sweetie.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ooooh he’s a munch I just know it. He loves to pleasure you and he loves the taste of you. He could go down on you for hours (if only his jaw would cooperate). He adores the praise he gets, your hand in his hair, your beautiful moans, eyes squeezing shut, thighs around his head.

He quite enjoys receiving as well, it feels really good to be at your mercy. He’s quite whiney and sensitive, his hand gently tangling in your hair, but never pushing or pulling. The sinful way you look up at him as your lips are wrapped around him, it drives him crazy.

As I said before, at first he barely knows what he’s doing but he’s constantly asking for guidance until he can get it right. It’s second nature to him now, he could make you cum from it in under two minutes if he liked, but he enjoys drawing it out for both of your pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He really likes to take his time so he isn’t the biggest fan but he’s more than down if it’s the only option. Not that often as he would only do it if there was no other choice, often what starts meaning to be quick gets significantly stretched out. You’ve learned the hard way not to proposition him in the morning on working days, but for lazy Sunday mornings, he’s absolutely perfect.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experiment a little, sure. He’s down to try most things if you’re into them (other than what I specified in No) but his preferences are reasonably vanilla. As long as he’s with you, he can enjoy it either way. You would probably have sex in a risky location once or twice and he would be so anxious about being caught that you wouldn’t do it again. However, if the danger is only being overheard, he doesn’t mind so much, happy to kiss you to keep the both of you quiet. It’s being seen that worries him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can probably come twice in a night with a reasonable cool down period, however, since he’s good at pacing himself and pleasuring you with other means, he can give you many rounds. Your sex usually lasts a long time. The first few times though, he absolutely comes prematurely.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I can’t see him being a toy person, but I think he’d be completely cool if you had a vibrator for when he’s away. Some guys get weird and jealous about toys, but he just wants you to be happy while he’s not there to take care of it. If you want him to use the vibrator on you while you have sex, he will.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease much, but when he does, he’s surprisingly suave and smug. It always makes you fold as it’s so rare. He loves being teased by you, having you flirting brazenly, sitting in his lap, brushing your hands up his arms, whispering dirty things, showing off your body, giving sultry looks. He adores it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man whimpers as I’m sure we all know by now. I don’t think he’s too loud, but it almost makes the little groans and whimpers he makes hotter as they’re all low and quiet, private just for you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think he’d be quite willing to have period sex. He likes to help relieve your cramps by helping you orgasm and doesn’t see why he should be disgusted by something your body naturally does, so long as he washes up well afterwards. I don’t think he’d go down on you, but sex and maybe some fingering is still on the table. Of course, he only does this if you ask, he never approaches you for sex on your period, letting you come to him if you need him. He doesn’t want to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable, even if the way he usually approaches you for sex is already very sweet and without pressure.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We all know that he’s hung, this is just an accepted truth in the fandom. He’s a little longer than average and definitely thicker, he probably has a slight curve. He’s also more buff than you’d think under his sweaters and cardigans.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think he’s highly suggestible with his sex drive. On his own it’s fairly low (once a week as I said before), but with you it’s a lot higher. He’s quite in tune with your moods, and is easily seduced if you’re in the mood, so when you’re ovulating, his drive is higher too because you’re glowing and you keep giving him these damn looks. When you’re less aroused, so is he, but he barely ever says no when you offer. He approaches you first about sex maybe once to three times a week, the rest of it is up to you to initiate.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think he definitely does get sleepy, but fights it off to be able to take care of you. The second you say you’re fine and don’t need anything else, he’s embracing you and dozing off. It’s another reason he dislikes public stuff or doing things on uncomfy surfaces, he gets very dozy afterwards.

[lackofspace]

Hey! this has been on my head for a while, so I'm just gonna leave it here and hope that it leaves my mind :)

ps: I wrote this really fast, I did not check for misspellings at all, english is not my first language and it's my first time writing anything!!! so please thread lightly lol

birdflash where they've been friends so long that Wally has known Dick's and Bruce's id's before most of the rest of the family were even adopted, close enough that when Wally 'retires' and goes to college he still recieves texts from Dick's siblings asking for help with cases or homework when Dick himself isn't available and so, we come to our plot

Bruce is getting married (to whom is up to you) and while Wally sees himself as a close family friend he doesn't get an invite, which, in his mind it's fine since well it's Bruce Wayne/Batman it'll probably be a really small lowkey thing only family and some friends and he's honestly not upset at all until he's hanging out in the Manor a couple of weeks before the wedding with Jason and Damian that it comes up

'Did you get fitted today?' Jason asks Damian, he's typing in his phone slanted over a armchair in the corner of the library

'Yes, although I do not see the need for another suit' He's in front of Wally with his physics homework open in the room's coffe table, 'Father seems to think we are all heathens who cannot keep a suit intact for more than a night' the comment clearly a jab

'Ah yes, I'm sorry mister prim and proper, it was not my intention to inconvenience you' Jason rolls his eyes still glued to his phone

'What about you, Wallace? Do you have a suit? Do make sure you get an approval from Alfred, the ceremony will be an informal one but he would hate the family photos not looking proper because of your two sizes bigger attire' Damian says not even looking up from his notebook

'Well then Alfred will be happy to hear he does not have to worry because I'm not coming' He responds laughing a bit

And that makes them both look up in sync with matching glares that make Wally jump a bit

'Why ever not? Do you have prior arrangements? I understand if that's the case but surely they can be postponed?' Damian frowns

'Is it college stuff? The wedding is going to be on a sunday, no way it's college, you're a nerd so there's also no way you can't skip having to study for a test for one day' Jason remarks, he's sitting up now phone forgotten

Wally is surprised with how much his absence at the wedding seems to annoy them

'It's nothing like that guys, I just didn't get an invitation, I figured your dad is doing a lowkey thing and there's not going to be many guests so I get it, I'm not mad or anything' He says in a tone that seems to be to placate them and he does not understand why

'But I swear I'm not upset! Don't tell your dad, I don't want to cause any trouble for the preparations and I'm sure everything will be beautiful' he spills the words quickly before they can interrupt him

'You were not invited?' Damian says face contorting into a frown even more

'Uh yeah, Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris got one, it wasn't metioned I could come and I swear I wasn't- am not! upset but, I asked Donna if she was invited and she said that she was, through Diana, so I guessed that if Barry and Iris' invitation didn't mention anything then... yeah' he says shrugging

'What the hell?' Jason exclaims picking up his phone and texting someone 'Did you only ask Donna?'

'Yeah?' Wally says, unsure

'Roy is coming too' Jason tells him

'Oh?' Wally doesn't know if that's supposed to make him feel better

'I invited him, dipshit, we were all granted plus ones, even the demon brat is bringing someone'

'They are coming as a friend' Damian remarks glaring 'Richard should have communicated you sooner'

'Uh well maybe Dick is bringing someone else?' and if until now nothing about the situation had particularly made him sad, this thought springing in to his head and out his mouth made his hands ache because of course, of course he was just another among many in love with the absolute sun that was Dick Grayson

While they remained friends Wally had made his feelings known sometime ago, the rejection had hit hard but it was true that their friendship was more important so they tried to keep as they were, unfortunately communication became strained and they didn't hang out as much that with college and Wally's feelings between them and so it escaped Wally why his siblings thought that he would be Dick's plus one for a wedding, his father's wedding no less

'This is important, maybe he thought bringing me might be weird?' This is not where Wally thought his impromptu tutoring session/hang out was going to go, he feels somehow like he's in the wrong for not getting an invitation with the way they are looking at him

'Bruce didn't send invites to those he knew were coming anyway' Jason states 'Dickhead was supposed to invite you'

'I'm sorry...? but he didn't, guys let's forget about this ok? I'm sure Dick has his reasons, the ceremony is going to look amazing and you guys can show me pictures later, how about that?' trying to end the subject less they discover why he does not appear at the manor unannounced anymore and why he chose a university so far away

that's kind all I have in me ya'll, this was mostly trying to show how much Dick and Wally are so involved in each other's lives that they become a package deal to everyone else, the story is supposed to go: batgossip and confusion since they know Dick is in fact in L O V E with Wally and bat siblings scheming while birdflash pine, ANGST!!! (the whole reason I wrote this honestly, I love angst and requited unrequited feelings), feelings realization and their happy ever after weeks later when Wally shows up as Dick's plus one

[sysig]

Cards 👏 cards 👏 cards 👏 (Patreon)

[bumpscosity]

I started playing pokemon diamond! i've been meaning to play it for ages so im super excited to jump in and finally play a 2D pokemon game, though i dont know if i trust either of my rivals yet.... I've only ever played pokemon games where you get exp share pretty much at the start so remembering to individually level up my whole teams gonna be a bit of a learning curve but im always up for new challenges

Naming my starters has always been important to me, it took me a while to come up with her's but i ended up picking Mori, after the japanese word for forest and a city in hokkaido, the island that's the partial inspiration for sinnoh :)

[beeholyshit]

They just need to look at each other and everything's ok 🩷

[worstloki]

Thor, rambling while Loki reads: --and yes, we are brothers, but I would kiss you if you asked!

Loki, suddenly much less interested in his book: What?

Thor: What?

Amora: *'sneakily' watching with her head peeking over the librarian's desk* HE SAID HE WOULD KISS YOU IF YOU ASKED.

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Maid x Vampire!Reader

A/N: If you like this setting, consider reading about your chef at the castle too. And, if you wanna know more about the levels, check this post :)

Warning: Not nsfw, but suggestive. MDNI. Butler (side character) calls reader “Mistress”

Danger level: ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡ ♡

————————————————

Yandere!Maid who looks at the castle in front of him, then the flier in his hands, then the castle again. Unless there was a typo in the address, the job interview should be here. He hesitantly uses the bat shaped door knocker and waits...This place looks so creepy and ominous, was this a prank ? Was it to scare him? Seriously? Sigh…He has had enough of being treated like a fool. As he continues his descent into frustration, bitterness and self-pity, he doesn’t hear the door opening. Nor does he see the butler standing at the entrance until he hears a: “Sorry for the wait, my kind sir. Are you here for the housekeeper position?”.

Yandere!Maid who thinks the butler is telling him a load of bullshit. According to him, the owner of this place is a vampire in search of additional staff members. He resists the urge to scoff. Whatever, if the “mistress” wants to take part in some weird role-play, then so be it as long as he would get paid. The same guy tells him to “please take a seat” in the living room and that “mistress will come and attend to you in a moment”. Soon after his departure, the air shifts. Black particles float around until it materializes something, or rather someone. The poor boy's shock and confusion quickly turn into enchantment. Fuck, you are totally his type. This is bad, he can feel his face burning. “Shall we go to my office?”, you ask with a smile.

Yandere!Maid who hates you. Who hates the fact that your personality matches your looks. Who hates how much control you have over him. The other day, your...pet sneezed on him, so he needed another uniform. “It seems that I only have a female one left ”, you told him. “There is no way in hell I am wearing that”, he sneered. “But wouldn’t you look cute in it? Besides, it is either that or cleaning with your normal clothes on until your new uniform arrives here-” “Alright, shut up, just give me that”, he abruptly took the offending dress from your hands and went to change. Since that conversation, his work attire has fully transitioned to said maid outfit. Maybe he becomes a bit too proud of himself whenever he catches you staring at him. And maybe, just maybe he wants to give you a nice view by bending down and taking his time “to clean the table” whenever he knows you are behind him. He will never admit that though.

Yandere!Maid who, one day, demands asks you about your eating habits. As soon as you answer, something regarding animal blood, he turns oddly quiet. You are about to ask what is wrong, but then he surprises you by climbing into your lap. You watch him get comfortable and, with trembling hands, undo the first buttons of his dress. The cherry on top is him pulling on its collar a bit to show a silver of his chest. He now avoids eye contact as he waits for you to take the lead…You are still just looking at him, so, with a blush becoming darker, he snaps at you: “A-are you stupid or something ? Do you want me to spell it out-” “I am just enjoying the view”, you respond with a teasing smile. Before he can sputter more insults, you grip his chin and tilt his head to the side, exposing his neck to your hungry gaze. “But if you insist…Thank you for the meal <3”

Yandere!Maid who has his face buried deep in his pillow while he tries to calm his flustered self down. After you finished drinking from him, he hurriedly got up and scurried to his room without so much as a word. The more he recalls the embarrassing noises he made in front of you, the more mortified he becomes. It was not his fault, it just felt really good and you even pulled him closer and tugged on his hair and-He whines and squirms in his bed as he feels his body turning hot again like that time. The action causes him to feel a sharp sting on his neck. He freezes. That is right. You marked him. You marked him. You marked him.

...

Don't drink from anyone else, ok?

[riaki]

i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.

soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.

and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.

it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.

but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.

he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.

and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.

that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.

but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.

so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.

and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.

he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.

he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.

and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?

but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.

pt.2

[pucksandpower]

So Good to Me

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc is the perfect man for you … getting stopped on the street for a random TikTok challenge just serves to prove that even further

The warm Monaco sun beats down on you as you stroll leisurely along the bustling sidewalk, a canvas tote bag filled with fresh produce and flowers from the local farmer’s market hanging from your shoulder. The salty sea breeze wafts across your face, carrying with it the excited chatter and laughter of tourists admiring the luxurious yachts bobbing in Port Hercules.

You smile to yourself, relishing this perfect Mediterranean afternoon. Just a quick stop at home to drop off your purchases, and then maybe you’ll take a dip in the infinity pool on the terrace to cool off before Charles is done with-

“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle!” A young man’s voice breaks through your daydreaming. You glance over to see a twenty-something guy with a neatly trimmed beard, expensive-looking sunglasses, and a black t-shirt emblazoned with HUSTLE in white block letters. He’s holding a mini microphone and has his iPhone pointed at you, clearly filming.

A TikToker.

You sigh internally but force a polite smile.

“Oui, puis-je vous aider?” You reply in French.

“Ah sorry, I don’t speak much French! Do you speak English?” The TikToker asks eagerly in a British accent.

“Yes, I do. Can I help you with something?” You say, switching to English yourself. You just want to get home but you know these influencer types can be annoyingly persistent.

The TikToker grins. “Brilliant! I’m doing a social experiment for my followers. I was wondering — do you have a significant other? A boyfriend or husband perhaps?”

You raise an eyebrow questioningly but decide to humor him. “Um, yes, I have a boyfriend,” you answer simply.

His eyes light up. “Fantastic! And would you say your boyfriend loves you very much?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the boldness of this stranger’s line of questioning. “Yes, I would definitely say that. He loves me a lot,” you confirm, a soft smile playing on your lips as you think of Charles.

“Perfect! Okay, here’s the challenge,” the TikToker announces dramatically, staring intensely into his camera. “I want you to call up your boyfriend right now and ask him to send you some money. Doesn’t matter how much. But for every €100 he sends, I’ll give you €20 to keep for yourself. Let’s see how much he really loves you, shall we?”

You stare at this guy incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. Is he serious? He clearly has no idea who your boyfriend is. An amused smirk spreads across your face as you fish your iPhone out of your designer purse.

“Alright, you’re on,” you say confidently, already unlocking your phone and tapping on Charles’ contact. The TikToker looks surprised but excited that you actually agreed to his silly challenge.

“Put it on speaker phone,” he instructs, zooming his camera in on your phone screen which is now dialing Charles.

After a few rings, the warm, honey-smooth voice you adore comes through. “Allô mon amour, what’s up?” Charles greets you sweetly. “I’m just finishing up some simulator runs but I should be done soon to help with dinner.”

“Hey baby,” you reply, your voice automatically softening. “Sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy. But I’m out right now and I just passed by that little boutique near the casino, you know the one? And I saw the most incredible pair of shoes in the window. I swear they were calling my name.”

Charles laughs affectionately, the sound like music to your ears even through the cell phone speaker. “Oh yeah? The ones that were calling your name last week turned out to be, what was it, €900?” He teases.

You roll your eyes playfully even though he can’t see. “Okay, fair, but you know I hardly ever splurge on myself. I’m usually so frugal!”

“Mmhmm, whatever you need to tell yourself, chérie,” Charles says wryly and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Let me guess, you need to go get these dream shoes right now? Or else they’ll haunt you forever?”

“You know me so well,” you gush dramatically. “I promise I’ll pay you back though! I get paid next week and-”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Charles cuts you off gently. “Mon cœur, you never have to pay me back, you know that. I love being able to treat you and spoil you. You deserve the world. Never forget that.”

You feel yourself melt at his earnest words, momentarily forgetting you have an audience. “I love you so much,” you murmur. “Thank you for always being so good to me.”

“Right back at you, ma belle. Je t’aime,” Charles says tenderly. “There, check your banking app. Let me know if you need any more. And have fun shopping! I’ll see you at home in a bit, okay? À bientôt!”

You glance down at your phone as a notification from your bank pops up on the screen. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the amount Charles sent over, but you recover quickly.

“Thank you, baby. See you soon!” You reply before hanging up. You turn back to the TikToker who is gaping at you in disbelief. Casually, you turn your phone screen towards him and his camera so he can clearly see the notification that €10,000 has just been deposited into your account.

The poor guy looks like he’s about to pass out from shock. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, rendered speechless. You just laugh good-naturedly.

“Well, guess I won your little challenge, huh?” You remark, slipping your phone back into your purse. “Tell you what, why don’t you donate whatever money you were going to give me to a local animal shelter instead? I think it’ll be put to much better use there.”

The TikToker finally manages to pick his jaw up off the floor. He laughs shakily and nods. “Yeah ... yeah I can do that. Wow. Um, thanks for being such a good sport about this. And congrats on, uh, winning, I guess?”

You give him a friendly wink. “Anytime. Have a nice rest of your day!” With that, you turn gracefully on your heel and continue on your way back home, feeling rather smug and deeply appreciative of your wonderfully generous boyfriend.

“Wait!” The TikToker calls out after you. You glance back over your shoulder curiously. He hesitates before asking in an awed voice, “If you don’t mind me asking ... who the hell is your boyfriend?”

An enigmatic smile plays on your lips. “No one special really,” you reply breezily. “Just a guy who loves driving fast cars.”

You leave the gaping TikToker in your wake as you saunter off, already daydreaming about showing your appreciation to Charles later for being the most incredible boyfriend imaginable.

Maybe you really will splurge on those designer shoes after all … and pick up a little something special from the lingerie boutique next door while you’re at it.

Your smile widens. Just as a little thank you to your man, of course. Life is good when you’re in love with Charles Leclerc.

[amethystarachnid]

BET

⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES

ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst and fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: not requested but taken from MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 10k (damn this surprises me too)

ᯓ★ Summary: When Bucky Barnes suddenly starts talking to you you don't think much of it and when he asks you out on a date you couldn't be happier, Bucky truly is everything you could ever want in a man, a man that really loves you...At least that's what you thought until you discovered that it was real all just a bet.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of virginity and virginity loss, small mentions of a smut scene

ᯓ★ AU: college au

ᯓ★ Request: not requested

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests closed)

ᯓ★ Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read

The music is loud, pulsing through the walls of the frat house as Bucky sits slouched on a couch, one arm draped lazily over the back. The night is already wearing on him, but he knows he’s going to be here until Sam and Steve call it a night, which—based on the collection of red solo cups by their feet—might be a while.

They’re all trading stories from the semester, voices buzzing with that blend of laughter and cheap beer. Sam is in the middle of recounting his latest dare when he nudges Bucky’s arm, catching his attention.

“Bet you couldn’t last a month with someone like her,” Sam says, nodding toward the corner of the room.

Bucky glances up, following Sam’s gaze until he spots you. You’re perched near the bookshelf, alone and fidgeting with your drink as you flip through a book someone left behind. He’s seen you around campus before, usually with your nose buried in a novel or surrounded by a pile of textbooks. There’s something unassuming about you, something quiet and untouchable. His friends know he’s more the type to go for a party girl—someone loud, someone who doesn’t ask too many questions.

“What, the bookworm?” Bucky scoffs, raising an eyebrow. But his friends don’t let up, and soon Steve and Sam are egging him on.

“You’re always chasing the same type,” Steve chimes in. “What are you afraid of, that she’d actually challenge you?”

Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes. He knows he should shut it down, but their teasing digs at him, scratching at that competitive edge that’s always lurking just beneath his smirk.

“All right,” Bucky finally says, shrugging. “I’ll do it. One month.”

His friends exchange knowing grins, slapping him on the back. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, Bucky feels a strange knot settle low in his stomach—a feeling he’s not used to. He brushes it off. It’s just a game, a challenge. It’s not like he’s actually going to care.

The next day, you’re tucked into your usual corner in the library, surrounded by a fortress of books. You barely notice him when he walks up, leaning against the edge of the table with a casual confidence that doesn’t match the usual quiet of the space.

“Mind if I join you?” His voice is smooth, low enough that you almost have to lean in to hear him clearly.

You glance up, surprised to see Bucky Barnes standing there, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’ve seen him around campus—he’s hard to miss with that leather jacket and effortlessly messy hair, the type of guy who always has someone laughing beside him.

“Sure,” you murmur, unsure of what else to say as you move your books aside, offering him a seat. You’re used to people mostly ignoring you here. It’s your refuge, your sanctuary. So when he sits across from you, stretching out as if he belongs there, it feels jarringly out of place.

“You look like you’re buried in work,” he observes, nodding at the mountain of papers in front of you. “What’s got you so busy?”

You hesitate, but something in his easygoing manner convinces you to answer. “Just…assignments. Trying to keep up with everything.” You give him a small smile, your guard still up but feeling oddly curious.

“What’s your major?” he asks, and the question catches you off guard. Most people don’t bother to ask; they assume or don’t care enough to wonder. He listens as you talk about your studies, nodding, asking small questions. Before you know it, you’re telling him more than you intended, falling into an easy rhythm that surprises you.

It becomes a pattern. Over the next few weeks, he finds reasons to run into you—at the coffee shop, in the library, even in the quad between classes. Each time, he stays a little longer, asks a little more, his eyes holding yours with that subtle intensity he wears so well. At first, you’re wary, cautious of his attention. But Bucky is good, easing his way in like he has all the time in the world, his jokes and questions slowly weaving a thread of trust between you two.

And Bucky? He’s surprised at how much he finds himself drawn to you. Each time you laugh, he catches himself watching, feeling something strange and warm unfurl in his chest. There’s a gentleness in you, a quiet intelligence, that keeps him coming back even as he reminds himself this isn’t supposed to mean anything.

But the longer he spends time with you, the more he feels the weight of what he agreed to, creeping up on him every time he catches your smile, every time you look at him like he’s someone worth knowing.

He tells himself it’s just part of the bet. But deep down, he knows he’s starting to cross a line he never meant to touch.

It’s been a few weeks since Bucky started spending time with you, and against every reminder he gives himself, he’s found himself looking forward to it more than he wants to admit. He tells himself it’s harmless—he’s just getting to know you, just finding ways to pass the time. But he knows he’s lying, especially when he starts finding excuses to see you outside of the library or when he catches himself glancing at his phone, hoping for a text from you.

One night, back at the frat house, he’s lounging with Sam and Steve again, half-listening to their conversation when Sam nudges him.

“So, Barnes. How’s it going with the bookworm?” Sam asks with a knowing smirk. Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to brush it off, but Sam isn’t so easily deterred. “Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings.”

Bucky scoffs, forcing a laugh to keep the truth buried. “It’s going fine. Like I said, a month’s no problem.”

Sam exchanges a glance with Steve, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Let’s make this interesting then. If you really want to win this thing, you’ve got to take it further.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches. “Further?” He has a bad feeling about where this is going.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Come on, Buck. You’ve been hanging out with her, sure, but we’re talking about actually making her fall for you. Ask her out, and, you know—” He raises an eyebrow meaningfully.

“Sleep with her,” Sam adds bluntly, laughing. “Seal the deal, and there’s two hundred bucks in it for you.”

Bucky hesitates, that uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach again. He tells himself it’s just a stupid bet. He’s done things like this before—gotten close to people just to prove he could, had plenty of meaningless hookups that never meant a thing. He’s Bucky Barnes, the guy who doesn’t do commitment or complications. But for some reason, picturing it with you makes him feel…off.

“Fine,” he says after a beat, his voice steady, betraying nothing of the uncertainty he’s trying to ignore. “Two hundred bucks. Done.”

The next day, he texts you, his fingers hovering over the keys a little too long before he finally sends, Hey, you free Friday? Let me take you out somewhere nice.

When you see his message, your heart skips a beat. It’s been a while since anyone has asked you on an actual date, and even longer since you’ve felt genuinely excited about someone. Bucky’s been different from the start—warm, attentive, and surprisingly easy to talk to. You’ve caught yourself looking forward to his company, replaying the moments he laughs at one of your jokes or leans in close enough for you to catch a hint of his cologne.

After a second, you type back, Yeah, I’d love to! You add a smiley face, feeling almost giddy as you press send.

The days leading up to Friday drag by, each one marked with bursts of nerves and anticipation. You spend a little more time getting ready than usual, finally deciding on a simple but pretty dress that makes you feel confident. When Bucky picks you up, his usual leather jacket replaced with a dark button-up, you feel a thrill of excitement. He looks genuinely happy to see you, his eyes scanning over you appreciatively as he gives you a lopsided grin.

“You look amazing,” he says, his gaze warm. There’s something softer in his eyes, something that makes you blush.

“Thanks,” you mumble, smiling as you walk beside him. He leads you to a small Italian place tucked away from campus, the kind of cozy, dimly lit restaurant you wouldn’t have expected him to know about. The conversation flows easily between you two, laughter spilling out as you talk about classes, hometowns, and childhood memories.

The night feels magical, almost surreal, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there’s something real here. Every time his hand brushes against yours, a spark shoots up your spine. And when he reaches across the table, fingers lightly grazing your wrist as he laughs at something you said, your heart flutters in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying.

After dinner, he suggests taking a walk, and soon you’re strolling through the quiet streets, the chill of the night air making you shiver just slightly. Without a word, Bucky slips his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It feels so natural, like you belong there.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a date this nice,” you admit, smiling up at him, your voice soft.

He chuckles, though it sounds slightly strained. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”

You shrug, trying to brush it off. “I guess I’ve just never…met anyone like you before.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced with that charming grin. He steps closer, his arm slipping from your shoulders, and you hold your breath as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low.

You feel like the world has stopped, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of, the moment where everything finally falls into place.

But for Bucky, something sharp and painful twists inside him. He can feel the weight of what he’s doing pressing down on him, can see the way your eyes look at him with such unguarded trust, and it’s enough to make his stomach turn. He’s never felt guilty over a stupid bet before, but right now, the idea of hurting you feels unbearable.

“Hey,” he says softly, his hand still on your cheek. “You trust me, right?”

Your eyes widen, and you nod slowly, too caught up in the moment to notice the tension in his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, a small smile forming on your lips.

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours as he takes a steadying breath. “Good,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. Because if he’s going to go through with this, he tells himself he has to believe that none of it matters—that he won’t let himself care. But even as he kisses you, his lips soft and warm against yours, he knows he’s lying to himself.

The days after that first date drift into a series of moments that feel surreal, almost like they’re happening to someone else. You find yourself checking your phone at odd times, waiting for his texts, smiling down at your screen whenever his name lights up. Bucky is a part of your routine now, and it feels strange, thrilling even, like there’s this magnetic force that draws you to him despite every bit of caution you try to hold onto.

Every time you’re with him, the outside world fades. He makes you laugh with stories about his friends, leaning in close, his voice warm and low as if he’s sharing some secret just for you. You catch yourself stealing glances when he’s not looking—at the way his jaw clenches when he’s lost in thought or how his eyes soften when he looks at you, a mix of curiosity and something you can’t quite name.

It’s after one of your study sessions at the library that Bucky invites you over to his dorm room for the first time. He tells you he’s got some old movies you’ve probably never seen, and, honestly, he’s right—you’d never pictured Bucky as the type to own black-and-white classics, but that’s exactly what he has, a surprisingly large collection lined up on a low shelf near his TV. He insists you pick one, and soon you’re sitting side by side on his couch, your legs tucked up beneath you, feeling almost shy in the soft glow of the screen.

The movie starts, but his arm stretches along the back of the couch, barely brushing your shoulders. The faintest touch sends electricity through you, but you stay quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment. Then, halfway through the movie, he shifts, glancing at you.

“You can get closer, you know,” he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something mischievous yet gentle.

Your heart flutters as you scoot closer, until you’re tucked into his side, his arm draped around you in a way that feels possessive yet comforting. He smells faintly like cedar and something distinctly him, a scent that’s becoming familiar. Before you know it, your head is resting on his shoulder, his hand absently tracing patterns on your arm, and you feel like you could stay there forever.

Time slips by in a collection of small, perfect moments. There are more dates—little coffee shops tucked away from campus, a bookstore where he buys you a copy of a novel you mentioned in passing, a late-night diner where you both end up after laughing so hard that you can’t breathe. You never expected him to be so attentive, so eager to listen to your stories and learn every detail about your life. He even surprises you with your favorite snack on study nights, tossing it to you with a grin before leaning in close to steal a bite for himself.

One evening, after a long day of classes and a surprise text from Bucky inviting you over, you find yourself curled up on his couch once again. This time, he’s stretched out beside you, one arm tucked under his head while the other rests around your shoulders. His fingers brush against your arm absently, and you can’t help but notice how natural this feels. It’s terrifying, too, the way he seems to melt into your life so effortlessly, as if he’s always been there.

You glance up at him, catching him mid-laugh as he recounts an embarrassing story about Sam, who apparently tried to show off on a skateboard and ended up with a sprained ankle.

“You’re terrible,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder, though you’re laughing too.

“Oh, come on. It was hilarious,” he insists, grinning down at you. He tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a second, and your laughter fades as something shifts between you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile. “I just…can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to reply. But then he leans down, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. The kiss deepens slowly, each touch feeling like a promise, and you lose yourself in the warmth of his embrace, forgetting every doubt, every insecurity that ever kept you guarded.

As the weeks pass, you find yourself falling harder than you ever expected. Bucky seems to find every crack in your armor, every scar and hidden fear, and instead of pulling away, he draws closer, listening to your stories and letting you into his own in ways that leave you breathless. He’s there to listen on your tough days, wrapping his arms around you and murmuring words of reassurance. He’s there on your good days, too, laughing with you, pressing kisses to your forehead as if he can’t believe his luck.

One night, you’re back on his couch, cuddled up under a thick blanket as a storm rages outside, the rain tapping against the windows. You’re nestled against him, his arm holding you close, and he’s quiet, his fingers tracing patterns along your shoulder absentmindedly.

“Bucky?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to yours, his eyes soft and warm in the dim light.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “For everything.”

He frowns slightly, shifting so he can look at you fully. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Being with you…it’s the easiest thing in the world.”

You smile, warmth spreading through your chest, and he kisses you again, slow and soft, like he’s savoring every second. It’s moments like this that make you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re finally safe with someone, that this is something real.

But for Bucky, each moment with you is a double-edged sword. He’s never felt this way before—this calm, this…connected. Every time you laugh at one of his jokes or lean against him, trusting and unguarded, he feels that awful twist of guilt, the memory of that stupid bet lurking in the back of his mind.

He’s supposed to ask for more. That’s what Sam and Steve were expecting, weren’t they? They wanted him to win the bet, to seal the deal and prove he could pull this off. But every time he thinks about going further, about pushing this relationship into a place where he can’t turn back, he feels that nagging ache, that quiet, gnawing feeling that he’s crossing a line he can’t uncross.

He knows he needs to tell you. He needs to come clean, but every time he opens his mouth, the words get stuck in his throat. You look at him with those bright, trusting eyes, and he can’t bring himself to shatter the way you see him. So he holds his silence, hoping that somehow, he can bury the truth forever, that maybe you’ll never have to know.

One evening, as you’re lying together on his couch, you let out a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest as his hand traces lazy patterns along your back.

“Bucky?” you whisper, your voice soft.

He glances down at you, his fingers pausing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah?”

You hesitate, then take a steadying breath. “I…I think I’m falling for you.”

The words hang in the air, vulnerable and open, and for a second, his face goes still, his eyes widening just slightly. Then, his expression softens, and he tightens his arms around you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. But as he kisses you, the warmth of his touch hiding the flicker of guilt behind his eyes, a single thought haunts him.

She deserves the truth.

That night, Bucky barely sleeps, lying awake with the knowledge that he’s in far too deep to ever come out of this unscathed. Every soft breath you take beside him reminds him of how much he’s risking by staying silent. He knows he has to tell you, but he’s terrified—terrified that this fragile, beautiful thing you’ve built together will shatter, that you’ll look at him with betrayal instead of trust.

In the morning, he makes a decision. He’ll find a way to tell you, he promises himself, but he wants one more day, one more memory before he risks everything. Just one last perfect day where he can pretend that none of it was ever a lie.

So he takes you out, leading you down to the pier just as the sun begins to set, casting the sky in hues of pink and gold. You laugh, leaning into him, and he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, watching the waves lap against the shore.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice soft. “It is.”

But as he stands there, holding you close, he knows that the beauty of this moment is fleeting, that the truth waiting in his chest is too big to ignore. And tonight, when he finally gathers the courage to tell you, he knows there’s a chance he’ll lose you forever. But for now, he lets himself savor this last quiet moment, memorizing the feeling of you in his arms, the warmth of your laughter as it fills the air.

For now, he holds onto the hope that maybe, somehow, you’ll understand.

The sunset fades, leaving the world painted in muted purples and blues, but neither of you seem ready to break away from each other. Bucky holds you close, feeling the steady rhythm of your breath against his chest as if it’s his own. He knows he should say something—that he needs to say something—but the words seem so impossible now, tangled up in his chest. The truth would ruin this moment, shatter whatever he’s built with you. And so, he tells himself it can wait just a little longer.

As the evening slips into night, Bucky leads you back to his dorm room, his hand intertwined with yours. You can feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers wrap around yours as if he never wants to let go. The air feels charged, every touch electric, each shared glance simmering with something that feels fragile and exhilarating. Neither of you says much, as though speaking would break the quiet spell between you.

Once you’re inside, Bucky hesitates. He turns to you, his expression vulnerable, softer than you’ve ever seen it. "You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand.

“I want to,” you say, the words escaping before you can even think. There’s no hesitation in your voice, only a gentle certainty that makes his chest tighten. The way you look at him, so open and trusting, makes his heart ache with a mix of guilt and longing.

Bucky’s eyes search yours, lingering for a moment that stretches into forever. He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before his fingers trail down to your jaw, cradling your face as if you’re something fragile and precious. Slowly, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s softer than any before. It’s unhurried, tender, as if he’s savoring every second.

The kiss deepens, and you can feel yourself melting into him, your heart pounding so hard you think it might burst. His hands move to your waist, steady and grounding, and he pulls you closer until there’s no space left between you. You can feel the strength of him, the warmth radiating through his clothes, and it makes your head spin.

Before long, you find yourselves tangled together on his bed, the world outside fading into nothingness. Each kiss is deeper than the last, each touch laced with a longing neither of you can deny. There’s a gentleness to Bucky’s movements, a quiet patience as he explores the curve of your shoulder, the softness of your waist, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you. He’s slow and careful, constantly looking at you as if to make sure this is what you want.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, his voice rough with barely-contained emotion.

You nod, feeling breathless but certain. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

His eyes darken, filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache, and then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, his hands skimming over your skin with a reverence that leaves you feeling cherished. You lose track of time, surrendering to the way he makes you feel—safe, wanted, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

When you finally fall back against the bed, your bodies wrapped around each other, you’re exhausted yet filled with a warmth that feels all-encompassing. The reality of what just happened settles in, but instead of feeling nervous, you feel at peace, secure in the quiet intimacy that has grown between you.

Bucky shifts beside you, pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. The steady thump of his heartbeat lulls you into a peaceful daze, and you feel his fingers trace small circles on your back, soothing and grounding.

You’re both quiet for a long time, the silence comfortable as you bask in each other’s presence. Eventually, though, you feel a need to tell him something you’ve been holding back, something you hadn’t planned on revealing but that feels right to share in this moment.

“Bucky,” you begin softly, lifting your head to look at him. He gazes down at you, his eyes warm and attentive, as if you’re the only thing he sees. “I…I want you to know that this was my first time.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that he’ll think you were too inexperienced or that you should have told him sooner. But he doesn’t flinch or hesitate. His hand moves up to gently cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin.

“Your first?” he echoes, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and something that sounds almost like reverence.

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat as you look down, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah…I wanted it to be with someone who made me feel safe. Someone I trusted.”

Bucky’s chest rises and falls slowly as he takes this in, his expression softening. He seems almost humbled, like he’s just been given something rare and delicate. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his own against yours.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze, as if he’s holding back a hundred things he wants to say but can’t find the words for.

You smile, the last traces of your nervousness melting away. “Thank you, Bucky…for making it so special.”

He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you like he’s afraid to let you go. “I’d do anything to make you feel special,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

You nestle into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe and cherished in a way you never have before. And as you lie there, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, you wonder if this is what it feels like to be truly, deeply in love.

But as you fall asleep in his arms, Bucky lies awake, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he’s kept from you. He knows he should be content, that he should just let himself savor this night and the closeness you’ve shared. But the memory of that stupid, careless bet gnaws at him, a dark cloud looming over everything.

He runs a hand through his hair, staring up at the ceiling, feeling torn between the desire to protect you from the truth and the fear that he’s already crossed a line he can’t uncross. The realization that you trusted him enough to give him something so deeply personal makes the weight of his lie even heavier, almost unbearable. He swallows hard, tightening his hold on you as he resolves to tell you the truth—soon, somehow, even if it means risking everything.

But tonight, he lets himself stay silent. He closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of your hair, the warmth of your body against his, and allows himself to believe, if only for a moment, that this can last.

The morning sunlight filters softly through the blinds, casting warm, golden patterns across the bed. You stir beside him, your movements gentle as you wake up, and Bucky watches you with a quiet awe, his heart racing as he takes in the peaceful expression on your face. For a moment, it feels like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

You blink up at him, your face lighting up with a sleepy smile that makes his chest tighten.

“Good morning,” you murmur, your voice soft and a little shy, as if the night is still too fresh, too beautiful to fully believe.

He grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Morning,” he replies, his voice low and warm. His fingers trail down to your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you squeeze back, a shared moment of silent understanding passing between you.

The morning stretches on in a gentle haze of quiet touches and soft words. Bucky makes you coffee, insisting you stay curled up under his blanket while he brings it over to you, and you laugh, watching him with a mix of affection and disbelief. This side of him—the playful, thoughtful side—is something you never expected to see, and it makes you fall for him even harder.

You’re both lounging on his bed, your legs tangled together, talking in low voices about everything and nothing. He tells you stories about his childhood, tales about him and Steve getting into trouble, and you share your own memories, laughing as he reacts with wide eyes and exaggerated shock.

It feels so real, so natural, that you almost forget about everything outside this room, about the possibility that this could be something fleeting. You feel like you’ve found a place that’s safe, a person who makes you feel more like yourself than you ever have before.

But in the quiet moments, when you catch him staring at you with that far-off look, you wonder if there’s something he’s not telling you, a hesitation lurking behind his gaze. You don’t press, not wanting to shatter the peace between you. But part of you wonders if you’re seeing a glimpse of something deeper, something you’re not yet ready to confront.

As you leave his dorm room later that morning, he kisses you softly, lingering as if he’s trying to memorize the taste of your lips, the feel of your hand in his. There’s an unspoken promise in his touch, a silent assurance that this isn’t the end.

Later that afternoon, you make your way back to the frat house, humming softly as you climb the steps to Bucky's door. You left your notebook there, a little blue book you’re pretty sure you’ll need for your upcoming assignment. You barely slept last night, too caught up in the warmth of his touch, the memory of his whispered words that lingered long after you left his dorm this morning. You’re nervous, too; you feel so much for him that it scares you.

As you approach his room, laughter drifts out into the hallway, low voices filtering through the partially open door. You recognize Bucky’s laugh, the familiar sound stirring warmth in your chest, but the laughter feels different, carefree and loud. And then you hear a familiar voice—Sam’s—cutting through, low and joking.

"Guess she fell for it pretty hard, huh?" Sam’s voice sounds amused, lighthearted, as if he’s talking about something trivial.

You freeze, your hand hovering inches from the door. Something about his tone makes you hesitate, a strange, unsettling feeling creeping into your chest.

"Come on, Bucky," Sam presses, “don’t act all innocent now. I saw you this morning, looking like you just won the lottery.” You can hear the grin in his voice, a laugh bubbling beneath it. “So? How was it?”

Bucky laughs, the sound uncomfortable, but he doesn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, his voice casual, light. “It was… good.”

You feel a stab in your chest, a faint panic that tells you to leave, to walk away before you hear any more. But your feet don’t move, and you find yourself listening, every word driving another splinter into your heart.

Steve’s voice joins in, chuckling. “Well, you earned it, man. She had no clue, huh?”

“No clue,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softer now, almost unreadable. You can picture him there, maybe rubbing the back of his neck the way he does when he’s nervous. But the words are there, undeniable.

Sam laughs again, louder this time. “And hey, bet’s a bet,” he says, and then there’s a pause before you hear the unmistakable rustling of bills being exchanged. “Two hundred dollars, as promised. Can’t say you didn’t earn it, though—you even managed to get her into bed. Didn’t think you had it in you, but here we are!”

Your vision blurs, the words echoing in your mind, distorting into something raw and jagged. Every affectionate touch, every gentle kiss, every whispered promise from the past few weeks twists into something ugly, something unrecognizable. You feel sick, the image of Bucky’s earnest smile, his soft words about wanting to make you feel special, tainted beyond repair. Everything you felt for him, the trust you’d handed him so freely, crumbles beneath the weight of their laughter.

Slowly, you turn and leave, gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you make your way out of the frat house. You don’t let yourself cry, not yet, not when you still feel the echo of his betrayal throbbing in your chest, too raw, too painful to acknowledge fully.

Hours later, you’re back in your dorm room, your heart aching as you sit in silence, the truth settling over you in waves. Part of you wants to believe it was a misunderstanding, that maybe there’s an explanation you’re missing. But the memory of their laughter, the casual way Sam handed him that money, makes the truth impossible to ignore.

A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts, and your heart skips a beat as you hear Bucky’s voice calling your name softly from the hallway. It’s just him now, his voice hesitant, almost as if he senses that something’s wrong. You take a steadying breath, steeling yourself before you answer the door.

When you open it, Bucky’s eyes light up, and he steps forward, a soft smile on his face as he reaches for your hand. “Hey, you,” he murmurs, his voice warm. But when he sees the look on your face, he pauses, his smile fading. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to speak. You can only look at him, trying to reconcile the gentle, caring person you thought you knew with the man who took a bet to seduce you. You pull your hand away from his, ignoring the confusion in his gaze as he watches you.

“Were you even going to tell me?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intended, a dull ache threading through every word. “Or were you just going to take the money and pretend it never happened?”

Bucky blinks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Tell you what? I—I don’t understand.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, and you look away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if it’ll keep you from falling apart. “Don’t play dumb, Bucky. I heard you. I was at the frat house earlier, and I heard everything.”

He freezes, his face going pale, and you see the truth in his eyes, clear as day. He opens his mouth, stumbling over his words. “Y/N, I—I didn’t… I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

The admission twists the knife deeper, and you feel yourself trembling as you look back at him, tears stinging your eyes. “So, it’s true, then? All of it? This whole… this whole thing was just for some stupid bet?”

He reaches for you, his expression desperate, his hands hovering just inches from your arms. “Y/N, please. Just let me explain. It wasn’t like that, I swear. It started that way, but then… then it became real. I fell for you, okay? Everything we did, everything we shared—it was real.”

You shake your head, pulling away from him, the anger and betrayal simmering beneath the surface. “Real? You think that makes this okay? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. “I trusted you, Bucky. I thought… I thought you cared about me.”

His face crumples, and he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to wipe away the tear on your cheek. “I do care about you. More than anything, Y/N. That’s why I wanted to tell you, I just—”

“Wanted to tell me?” you interrupt, your voice shaking. “When, Bucky? After you cashed in your winnings? After I found out on my own?”

The silence stretches between you, heavy and unbearable, and Bucky’s shoulders sag as he looks away, guilt etched deeply into his face.

“Do you even realize how humiliating this is?” you continue, your voice a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “I trusted you with something… something I’d never given anyone. And the whole time, it was just part of a game to you.”

His eyes snap back to yours, filled with anguish, his voice barely a whisper. “It was never just a game, not after the first night. I swear, Y/N, I was going to tell you everything. I just… I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?” you repeat, laughing bitterly. “You lost me the moment you made that bet. You had no right to… to play with me like that, to make me believe that any of it was real.”

He looks at you, his blue eyes full of desperation, his voice breaking. “Y/N, please. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, but I need you to believe me when I say I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Just stop,” you whisper, the weight of it all crashing over you. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to make me feel sorry for you when you’re the one who lied.”

Bucky’s face falls, and he drops his gaze, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please, just… give me a chance to make it right.”

Your heart aches, torn between the memories of every gentle touch, every whispered word, and the undeniable truth of his betrayal. Part of you wants to believe him, wants to believe that somewhere in all of this, there was something real. But the pain is too deep, the wound too fresh, and you don’t know if you can ever look at him the same way again.

“I can’t do this,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t just forget what you did. You hurt me, Bucky. And right now, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

He flinches, as if your words physically hurt him, and he nods slowly, a look of resignation in his eyes. “I understand. I’ll… I’ll leave, if that’s what you want.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as he takes a step back, his gaze lingering on you one last time before he turns and walks toward the door. Just as he reaches it, he pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glances back at you, his voice soft, broken.

“For what it’s worth, Y/N… I love you. I know I don’t deserve to say that, but it’s the truth.”

You don’t reply, staring at him with tear-filled eyes as he finally steps out of your dorm, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that follows is deafening, and you sink to the floor, the weight of everything crashing down as you realize that the person you thought you loved never truly existed.

The days blur together in a haze of heartbreak and emptiness. You go through the motions, attending classes, completing assignments, and showing up to study groups, but it all feels mechanical, like you’re on autopilot. It’s as if something inside you has shut down, leaving only an echo of who you were before you met him, before he became the center of your world.

It doesn’t take long for your friends to notice the change. They ask if you’re okay, if something happened, if maybe you just need a break. But you give them the same answer each time—a nod, a small smile, and an assurance that you’re just tired. It’s easier than explaining the mess of emotions tangled inside you, the hurt that seems too big to fit into words.

Late at night, lying alone in your dorm room, you can still feel the warmth of his arms around you, the softness of his voice in the quiet hours when he’d whisper promises you thought would last forever. The memory feels cruel now, tainted by the knowledge that it was all built on a lie. And yet, despite everything, you miss him. You hate yourself for it, but you miss the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel safe, special, as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.

Bucky isn’t doing any better. In fact, he’s a mess. Days have passed, but the guilt, the emptiness—it lingers, gnawing at him, refusing to let him move on. He can barely sleep, haunted by the look in your eyes, the betrayal, the hurt he put there. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you, hears the way your voice cracked when you told him you didn’t know who he was anymore. And the worst part is, he doesn’t blame you. He knows he did this, that he ruined everything, and now he has to live with the consequences.

Sam and Steve notice almost immediately. Bucky, the confident, charming guy they’d known for years, looks hollow, as if he’s carrying a weight he can’t shake. He barely speaks, keeps to himself, and they rarely see him at the frat house anymore. Instead, he spends most of his time shut up in his dorm, a shadow of the person he used to be.

One evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, Sam and Steve exchange a glance, silently agreeing that they need to intervene. They knock on his door, and when he doesn’t answer, Sam pushes it open, finding him lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Hey, man,” Sam says, stepping inside. Steve follows, closing the door behind them as they both approach Bucky’s bed.

Bucky doesn’t react right away, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. But eventually, he sits up, running a hand through his hair, looking exhausted and defeated.

“What’s up, guys?” he mumbles, though his voice lacks any real curiosity.

“We should be asking you that,” Steve says, his tone softer than usual. “You haven’t been yourself lately. Ever since things ended with Y/N, it’s like… you’re a completely different person.”

At the sound of your name, Bucky’s face falls, and he lets out a long, shaky breath. “Yeah,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “That’s because I am.”

Sam frowns, studying Bucky’s expression, the guilt etched into every line of his face. “Look, man, we didn’t mean for things to get this serious. But if you cared about her, really cared… why didn’t you just tell her the truth from the start?”

Bucky shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white. “I don’t know,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I was scared, I guess. I knew I’d screwed up, and every time I tried to tell her, I just… couldn’t. I thought I could fix things, somehow, make it up to her without her ever finding out.” He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Stupid, right?”

Steve sighs, sitting beside him on the bed. “Not stupid, just… a mistake. A big one, yeah, but you’re not the first guy to mess up. You’re just… Bucky, this isn’t like you. I’ve never seen you like this over anyone before.”

Bucky looks away, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s because I’ve never felt this way before. Not like this. I love her, Steve. And I threw it all away over some stupid bet that meant nothing. I hurt her in ways I can’t even fix.”

Sam places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “So what are you gonna do about it? You can’t just sit here, wallowing. If she meant that much to you, then maybe you owe it to her—and to yourself—to try and make it right.”

Bucky laughs, but it’s empty, hollow. “And how am I supposed to do that, Sam? She told me herself she doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t deserve another chance.”

Steve exchanges a look with Sam, and then he says, “Maybe. But you can’t just give up without trying. If you really love her, Bucky, you have to prove it. Show her that you’re not just the guy who hurt her, that you’re willing to fight for her. And if she doesn’t take you back… at least you’ll know you tried.”

Bucky sighs, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares at the floor. “I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. I don’t even know if I deserve it.”

Sam crosses his arms, his expression softening. “Look, man, I get that you’re hurting. But don’t you think she’s hurting, too? She’s probably out there feeling just as broken, wondering if anything between you was ever real.”

Bucky swallows hard, his chest tightening at the thought. He knows you’re hurting, knows you trusted him with something precious, something he didn’t deserve. And knowing that he’s the reason for your pain… it’s a feeling he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Over the next few days, Bucky wrestles with himself, caught between the fear of making things worse and the desire to show you that he’s truly sorry, that he wants to be the man you thought he was. He writes and rewrites texts he never sends, shows up outside your dorm but never works up the courage to knock. He’s terrified, but he can’t ignore the way his heart aches for you, the empty, gnawing feeling that only seems to grow with each passing day.

Finally, he decides to try one last time. He doesn’t know if you’ll listen, doesn’t know if you’ll even give him a chance. But he has to try—to give you the truth, no matter how painful it might be.

And so, as the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over campus, Bucky finds himself standing outside your dorm, his heart pounding as he gathers the courage to knock. He knows this is his last chance, that this is the moment that will decide everything. And he only hopes, as he takes a deep breath and raises his hand to the door, that you’ll give him the chance to show you that he’s not the man who hurt you—that he’s ready to fight for you, no matter what it takes.

The knock on your door is soft, almost hesitant, but it’s enough to pull you from your thoughts. You’ve been lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to find the strength to move forward, to somehow patch yourself up after everything that happened. When you open the door, you see him standing there, his eyes filled with an uncertainty that’s almost heartbreaking. He’s gripping a small notebook in his hands—your notebook, the one you left in his room—and his gaze is fixed on you with a desperation you’ve never seen before.

“Hi,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t reply right away, the sight of him dredging up the familiar ache in your chest. Part of you wants to slam the door and hide, to keep yourself safe from any more hurt. But you don’t. Instead, you meet his gaze, forcing yourself to remain steady.

“Hi,” you reply, your voice guarded.

He shifts on his feet, glancing down at the notebook before offering it to you. “I, uh… you left this. Thought you might need it.”

You take it from him, feeling the familiar weight of it in your hands. “Thanks.”

A heavy silence hangs between you, one that neither of you seems willing to break. Bucky swallows, his face creased with an anxious, uncertain look that makes him seem vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Can we… can we talk?” he asks, his voice almost pleading. “Please. I know I don’t deserve it, but I just need to say a few things. If you don’t want to listen, I’ll understand, and I’ll leave you alone. I just… I need you to know the truth.”

You hesitate, but finally, you nod, stepping back to let him into your room. He steps inside, closing the door softly behind him, and takes a seat in the small chair by your desk while you remain standing, arms crossed protectively over your chest.

For a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze heavy with regret. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“I know you have every right to hate me,” he starts, his voice barely steady. “I know I messed up in ways I can’t even fix. And I know… I know what I did was horrible. I just—” He swallows, his throat tight. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t all a lie. When we started this… when we first got close, I didn’t expect any of this to happen. I didn’t think I’d feel the way I did.”

You look down, his words stirring a fresh wave of pain in your chest. “But it was a bet, Bucky,” you murmur, your voice trembling. “You… you did all of that just to win some money. To you, it was just a game.”

He flinches, guilt flashing in his eyes, and he nods. “I know. I won’t make excuses for it—I was stupid, and I hurt you. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about the bet. It stopped being a game. And I started… I started caring about you, more than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you force yourself to keep your voice steady. “Then why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair again, his expression tortured. “Because I was scared. I was terrified that you’d look at me the way you’re looking at me now, that I’d lose you. I know that doesn’t make it better, but it’s the truth. I tried to find the right time, tried to find the right words, but I kept putting it off, thinking maybe… maybe I could make it up to you before you ever found out.” He looks down, his voice breaking. “But that was stupid. I should’ve just been honest with you from the start.”

You take a shaky breath, feeling the full weight of everything he’s saying. Part of you wants to believe him, wants to forgive him, but the wound he left is still fresh, still raw. “I trusted you, Bucky,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought what we had was real.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a desperate sincerity that takes you off guard. “It was real. For me, it was real. And I know that doesn’t change anything, but I need you to know that. I never meant to hurt you, and I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You study him for a long moment, searching his face, trying to find some indication of sincerity, something to show that he’s truly sorry. And when you see the remorse in his eyes, the sadness that mirrors your own, you feel something in your chest soften, just slightly.

“Bucky,” you begin softly, forcing yourself to stay strong, “I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend this didn’t happen. You hurt me more than anyone ever has, and it’s going to take time for me to get past that.”

He nods, his expression resigned, but he doesn’t look away. “I understand. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just… I just want the chance to prove to you that I’m more than the guy who hurt you. Even if we can’t go back, I want to be there for you, even if it’s just as a friend.”

You let his words sink in, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the ache in your heart. Part of you still longs for what you had, for the closeness you shared, but you know that you can’t rush back into it. If Bucky truly wants a second chance, he’ll have to earn it, piece by piece, day by day.

“Maybe…” You hesitate, feeling vulnerable but determined. “Maybe we can start as friends. Just… friends. No promises, no expectations. If you’re willing to do that, to rebuild things from the ground up… then maybe, someday, I’ll be able to trust you again.”

Relief floods his face, and he nods, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll take that. Anything you’re willing to give, I’ll take it. I’ll prove to you that I can be better. I’ll prove that I’m worth your trust.”

You give him a tentative smile, and for the first time in days, you feel a flicker of hope. It’s small and fragile, but it’s enough to remind you that maybe healing is possible.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky becomes a constant but careful presence in your life. He shows up when you need help with an assignment, offers a listening ear when you need to vent about a long day, and joins you for coffee on campus, keeping the conversation light and easy. He respects your boundaries, never pushing for more, never expecting anything beyond friendship. You’re surprised at how attentive he is, how willing he is to wait, to prove that he’s serious about making things right.

Slowly, the walls around your heart begin to crack. You start to feel comfortable with him again, to let your guard down, if only a little. You catch him glancing at you sometimes, a soft, almost wistful look in his eyes, as if he’s seeing something precious he thought he’d lost forever. It’s in these moments that you remember why you fell for him in the first place, why his smile used to make your heart race, why his touch felt like home.

One day, as you’re both sitting on a bench by the campus pond, he turns to you, a hesitant smile on his face. “I know we’re just friends right now, and I’m okay with that. But I want you to know that I’m grateful for every moment I get to spend with you, even if it’s just like this.”

You feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say softly. “For not giving up. For being patient with me.”

He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before resting his hand on yours, his touch warm and steady. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m here for you, no matter what.”

And as you look into his eyes, you feel a flicker of something you thought was lost—a tentative, fragile hope that maybe things could be different this time. That he could truly be the person he’s trying to be, the person you wanted him to be all along. And though you know there’s a long road ahead, you’re finally willing to take that first step with him, trusting that maybe, this time, he won’t let you down.

The night is alive with music and laughter as you step into the crowded frat house. It’s your first time back here since everything happened, and you can’t deny the nervous flutter in your stomach as you take in the familiar scene. But tonight feels different—Bucky is by your side, watching you with a gentle smile as he guides you through the chaos of people, his hand warm and steady on your arm.

Over the past few weeks, things between you and Bucky have been slowly mending. He’s proven himself time and time again, showing up when it mattered, respecting your boundaries, and never pressuring you for more than you were willing to give. He’s become someone you can lean on, someone who’s earned back your trust bit by bit. And, to your own surprise, you feel something new blossoming between you—something deeper, stronger, and more genuine than before.

When you reach the main room, you spot Sam and Steve near the keg, both of them giving you a thumbs-up as soon as they see you with Bucky. You laugh, rolling your eyes, but Bucky just grins, shrugging as if to say, They’re harmless.

“Glad you came tonight,” he says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the noise. “I was worried you might skip.”

You shrug, glancing up at him. “Well, I figured it was about time I faced the frat house again.”

He chuckles, a warm, rich sound that sends a spark of something familiar through you. It’s the same feeling you used to get when you first met, when you were just getting to know him, before anything got complicated. Only now, it feels even better—because you’re finally on solid ground with him, without secrets or lies standing between you.

As the night goes on, you find yourself enjoying the party, laughing with friends, and even dancing a bit. Bucky stays close, his presence a comforting, steady anchor amidst the noise and chaos. He’s attentive, offering you drinks and glancing over every so often to make sure you’re comfortable. And every time you catch his gaze, you feel your heart race just a little faster.

At one point, as you’re talking with a friend, you feel Bucky’s hand gently touch your arm, and he leans in close, his voice soft and intimate against your ear. “Want to get some air?”

You nod, letting him lead you through the throngs of people until you step out onto the back porch. The cool night air is a welcome relief from the warmth inside, and you breathe deeply, taking in the quiet calm of the evening. Bucky leans against the railing, watching you with a soft, almost nervous smile, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” he begins, his voice low and steady, as if he’s thought about this moment a thousand times. “I know we’ve been rebuilding things, and I know you wanted to take it slow. But, Y/N… being with you these past few weeks, even just as friends, has been everything to me. And I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

Your heart stirs at his words, and you feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of longing that’s been building quietly since the day he asked for a second chance.

“Bucky,” you say softly, stepping a little closer. “I… I feel the same. It’s been hard, letting go of the past. But I think—no, I know—I’ve forgiven you. You’ve shown me who you really are, and… I like that person.”

His eyes brighten at your words, and he reaches out, his hand brushing your cheek as his thumb strokes gently across your skin. He leans closer, his gaze searching your face as if to make sure you’re truly ready for this.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his voice barely audible in the quiet night air.

You feel your heart skip a beat, and you give him a small, almost shy nod, your pulse racing as he leans in, closing the distance between you. The moment his lips meet yours, it’s like the world melts away, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the softness of his mouth against yours. It’s gentle at first, tentative, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell. But as you respond, his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you a little closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet, aching intensity.

When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath, sharing a smile that’s equal parts relief and joy.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth, “I promise, I’m not going to mess this up again. I want this with you—for real, no games.”

You smile, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now.”

He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug, and you bury your face in his shoulder, feeling a happiness you haven’t felt in a long time. You’re finally ready to move forward with him, to start fresh, knowing that this time, it’s real.

maybe I should've made it more angsty? I love angst, request angst people! lol

[miserycanary]

DEFINITELY NUTS ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & model!fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost mentions you but 141 doesn't believe that he got a wife

tags: crack (well, attempted), fluff

Ghost’s strict rules for privacy are something the 141 has known for years now. He’s not the type of person to blab about his personal life and often chooses just to keep quiet. So, imagine their surprise when he suddenly says that he’s going to take a day off because his wife asked him to watch a play. 

“Price, ‘am not gonna be here tomorrow. Got a date with my missus.”

All eyes are on him, everyone stills. “WIFE? Since when?!” Soap exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were almost bulging out his eyes. “Never told you about her?” Ghost hums, unamused by the Scottish’s exclaim. “Johnny here does have a reasonable reaction. You never tell us anything ‘bout you, mate,” Price joined, chuckling and pulling out a cigar. The man just contemplates before brushing it off and bidding farewell, leaving the group confused. 

“Ain’t no way he’s telling us the truth. That man ain’t got no bone in his body to bag someone,” Soap voiced out, looking for anyone to support his disbelief. “I mean..” Gaz whistles out, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head as if he’s agreeing to some extent. That’s when, unbeknownst to Ghost, he got the reputation of being delusional and a liar. 

Soap, still doubtful days later, watches the lieutenant with a vision like a hawk. “Hey, lieutenant.” Ghost snaps his head up, looking at him. “How was the date with your wife?” Immediately, everyone else stopped what they were doing, silently listening. It was obvious he was baiting Ghost, emphasizing the wife as if putting on quotes. They weren’t as nosy as Soap but each one of them still held a bit of doubtness that the brick wall of the team managed to get a girl, and even marry her.

“It was okay. The missus had fun,” Ghost chuckles, fondly remembering how you were beaming on the way, rambling about the plot of the play. “Can we see pictures?” Soap smirked thinking he finally got the lieutenant but was taken aback when Ghost only shrugged and pulled out his phone before freezing. “Ah, we didn’t take pictures yesterday. Said she wanted to live in the moment.” 

Soap whipped his head to signal to Gaz, seemingly saying ‘See? He’s definitely lying! How convenient he has no pictures.” 

“How about just a picture of your wife?” Kyle suggested, now invested while Price seemed to be shaking his head in the corner. “I have none with me but..” With a few clicks, Ghost holds up his phone for everyone to see. Like birds, everyone flocked around him, curious to see. For a while, everyone was surprised and sure the man was lying. I mean, he just showed them a picture of a drop-dead gorgeous model from a magazine! 

‘He's definitely lost it’ everyone seemed to think, offering pity glances at the man who had this prideful shine in his eyes. Walking up to his superior, Soap patted him on the back. “It’s fine, mate… we understand how difficult it must be.” ‘not having a lady at all’

Thinking Johnny meant about your hectic schedule, he agreed. “It’s quite tough but we make it work,” he chuckled which made everyone wince.

‘Definitely nuts!’

Weeks passed after that and the topic never got brought up, until Ghost came in with a bento in hand covered with a handkerchief with frilly ends. When asked about it, he replied, “Ah, wife’s testing out recipes for an upcoming TV show. ‘S been practicing and asked me to bring one.” Once again, he was given pity glances and even heard a defeated sigh from Soap. 

‘He’s too far gone’

“How’s work?” you ask, dazedly paying attention to the movie you guys put, more invested in burying your face in Simon’s chest while he drapes both arms on your waist, completely engulfing your torso under his muscles. “Been getting a few weird stares,” he mumbles, playing with your hair and pressing kisses on your forehead. “Why?” you peer up, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I don’ know, princess.”

Meanwhile…

“Should we just… finally set the lieutenant on a date? I feel bad. I mean, he even lied about his “wife” making him lunch,” Johnny sighed.

“Probably the best idea,” Kyle nodded.

Now Price… he knows the truth. He met you before when you dropped by, asking for Ghost— which ended horribly— but he’ll lying if he said he’s not getting a kick out of this.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: probably won't be posting for a while :] Did you guys notice the hint to my previous work? Please do. 😔

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[gojoux]

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 “𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔” 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓?

Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta. Inumaki.

◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

You. He’d definitely want to say it first, but the words never came out of his mouth, he just shows it instead in his own obnoxious way. When you say it first, he pauses for a few seconds in surprise before his eyes glimmer in happiness and the biggest grin appears on his face. “I knew it! You love me too!” He’d give you a big, tight hug and kiss your face repeatedly. He’d keep repeating it like an annoying boyfriend, saying it exaggeratedly, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” He’s such a simp when it comes to you.

◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Him. He believes in saying it as much as he feel it. On a random day when you’re both spending time together somewhere peaceful and quiet, he’d admire you as usual and decide to let his feelings out for you. He reaches out his finger to caress your cheek with that soft smile of his before saying, “I love you. I’m so lucky to have you.” He doesn’t expect you to say it back, he just wants to say it out loud for you to know. He likes showing you off in subtle ways that you’re his lover.

◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

You. He’s not interested in the concept of “love” and he thinks the word “love” is cheesy even though he loves you beyond measure. You’d have to say it first, but don’t expect him to reply, even though you’d be saying it multiple times. It’s just too much for his tastes. He’s not like those guys who would shower you with sweet words of love, he’s more likely to be a tease. It’s hard to know if he means it or if he’s mocking you with sarcasm, that’s just how he is. Instead, he’s not afraid of showing just how much he wants you in a more physical kind of way.

◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

You. He may not be very vocal with his words, but when it comes to showing his love for you, he’ll do that a lot with his actions. He’ll try to help you out in every situation he can. He’ll check up on you often, be protective of you whenever he can, and even make sure you’re fed and healthy. His affection will make you feel appreciated and loved without him having to say anything in particular. It’s mostly you who’s going to have to say it first, but don’t worry, he’ll say it back. He’d said it because he meant it, he’s not the type to blurt anything out just to soothe your heart. He knows that you know it, too.

◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

Him. You are his love, the object of his affection and adoration. He doesn’t even realize when he says it since it just came out of his mouth so easily, his feelings for you are just so genuine and he’s not one to hold his words back. His love would be expressed both with words and actions, and he’d be very honest with you about everything. “I love you” could very well be one of the most important things he says to you as a sign of his affection towards you, he wants you to know that you’re deeply loved by him. And when he knows you love him the same way, he’s bound to never miss an opportunity to tell you “I love you” along with compliments or kiss you.

◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You. Saying such a cheesy line to his lover? He doesn’t say “I love you” easily. He’s not the type to openly give you words that show his affection towards you. He doesn’t think he could even able to express it in words. When you told him you love him, he’d just reply, “I know,” with a sly grin on his face. But you can still be sure he appreciates you like nothing else in the world, for that’s how much he cares about you. He’ll never admit it verbally though, he lets his actions speak louder than words. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll say it when you’re in deep sleep, his tongue rolling out the words easily from his heart.

◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

You. He has a hard time saying “I love you” first, you’d be the first to confess your love. But one thing is for sure, no matter how long it takes before he finally utters those words, he’ll never deny his love for you. He’s the type to take things slow and prefers to show his love with sweet action rather than just mere words. It’s hard to figure out when exactly he’d tell you that he loves you for the first time, you’d have to read the signs, “I bought this for you,” or “Let’s go out together,” or “I’m only here for you,” but no worries, if you ever ask him directly about his love to you, his answer would be a simple “Yes, I do.”

◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

Him. It’s not a question of whether he will say “I love you” first, but “how many times he’ll say it.” He can’t be sure if you know how much he loves you, “My precious and beloved~ I love you more than anything.” He’d also keep saying it, much like a clingy boyfriend even if it’s the smallest thing you do, like “Your clothes look good on you, I love them and I love you,” and “You’re so beautiful, I love you,” and many more. He likes to hug or kiss you when he says it, he’s so sweet. He’s a man who truly adores you from the bottom of his heart and he thinks it’s normal to express it openly.

◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀

Him. He would definitely want to say “I love you” first when he realizes his feelings for you, and he is more than ready to say it. He wants to be very clear with his love for you. He might hesitate to throw the L-word here and there even though he wants to because he’s worried that you might get tired of hearing it. But soon enough, “I love you” becomes a common phrase in Yuta and your conversations as he showers you with sweet words, his words won’t only be sweet but he’ll mean every single word of it, it’s his way to show you how much he appreciates and treasures you. He’s a man who appreciates love and romance, after all.

◈ — 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈

Him. He won’t say it through text, but rather his hand gesture. He wants to look at you when he declares his love for you for the first time, and he’s so eager to do so. He’d point at himself, make multiple heart shapes— with his fingers, hands, arms— he’d use it all to make his points across, before pointing at you. When you mimic his gestures back, he’ll be so happy like a little child, squeezing you into a tight hug and kissing your cheek. He’d also spam your messages with many hearts and kisses emojis. He’s a chill guy, he won’t mind expressing his love for you openly, even when he’s trolling or making fun of you or himself in the process.

[lightseoul]

16 please 👀

Congrats btw for your 2K milestone!! 🎉 WAHOO

number 16, coming right up! thank you for playing and for the congratulations, lovely <3 i hope this one makes you laugh!

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

16. "I WANT TO GO HOME TO MY WIFE." (0.7k)

it’s probably by the tenth sigh of the night—not that anyone’s counting—that poor kaminari finally snaps.

“seriously, dude?”

bakugou, who’s seated across from him with kirishima and sero adjacent to the both of them, only lazily raises an eyebrow in question.

at that, the electric hero pouts. “at least try to pretend you’re having fun.”

a few feet ahead of them—the men collectively chose to be seated at the back of the small dive bar despite kaminari’s protests—the stand-up comedian currently doing a set cracks another joke. an undercurrent of laughter flows across the room, but none of the four contribute to that.

“sorry, denki,” sero starts, a not-so-apologetic expression plastered on his face. “i’m with bakugou on this one.”

the slim, ebony-haired man glances at the stage, “the jokes aren’t landing for me either.”

“aww, come on, you guys!” kirishima, the ever-unfailing saint that he is, pipes up with a borderline overcompensating grin. “let’s just stay for a while longer for denki, alright?”

sero shrugs in response, but turns in his seat toward the stage anyway. bakugou, on the other hand, only grumbles before reaching for his phone in his right pocket.

thumbing his password under the table, his fingers click on the messages app, then to his number one favorite contact.

for a second, he debates whether or not to shoot you a text. you were so excited to finally get started on that anime you’ve been meaning to watch, that you almost seemed like you didn’t care that he was leaving you home for the night to hang out with the guys.

biting on his lip, he absentmindedly goes through your last exchange before finally deciding fuck it.

while typing out a well-crafted message, his eyes dart between his screen to his friends then back down again, trying to seem inconspicuous.

the last thing he needs is for the bored tape hero to tease him with that annoying ass shit-eating grin of his.

reading through it one last time, bakugou finally presses the send button.

much to his delight, it doesn’t even take you a minute to reply.

(8:43 PM) baby 🧡: heey! i’m still watching—am on episode 5 now. hbu? aren’t you busy with the boys?

the smile he wasn’t aware he’s been sporting immediately drops when he’s reminded of the predicament he’s in. peering back up at the front, he has to fight the groan that threatens to bubble from his mouth when another performer goes up.

oh, well. at least you’re texting him right now.

he quickly types out his response.

(8:45 PM) me: Busy being fucking tortured. This is the worst night ever.

“yo, bro, who got you smiling like that?”

bakugou whips to glare at the culprit, who’s now wearing the very same shit-eating grin he’s just been thinking about avoiding a few moments ago.

pocketing his phone, bakugou snarls at the man. “shut the fuck up. all that doom-scrolling is rotting your fucking brain.”

“i think you getting the reference says something about you, too, bakubro,” kirishima offers from beside him.

bakugou shoots the redhead a menacing scowl, which the unbreakable hero accepts in stride.

“are you guys even listening?” comes kaminari’s whine.

“sorry, denks,” sero replies, before turning to regard the rest of the group. “i thought we agreed to stop doing these guys’ night outs? none of us are as good at planning get-togethers as mina.”

at that slightest bit of opening, bakugou takes the opportunity and moves to stand up, grabbing his wallet and car keys before inserting them in his back pocket, surprising the three men.

before any of them can say a single word, though, bakugou tries to shrug nonchalantly, muttering his simple explanation.

“what was that?” came sero’s teasing tone.

“i want to go home to my wife, idiot,” bakugou barks before he can stop himself.

at that, kaminari finally throws his hands up in defeat.

kirishima only shrugs himself, “that clicks.”

while the menace snickers. “simp.”

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[rodolfoparras]

And for you, I keep my legs apart (and forget about my tainted heart)

Pairing: Unspecified Male character x Male Reader

cw: 18+, age gap, (older man x younger male reader), anal fingering, riding, subtop male reader, dombot male character, size kink

Thinking about an old man going for a guy like you who definitely isn’t his type, with your scrawny frame, short height that barley reaches eye level on him, and with a meek presence that couldn’t even scare away a stray cat if you desperately tried to do so.

Yet you’ve somehow managed to gather the courage to buy someone like him- a man that could probably be your father or something, a drink. At least that’s what he thinks you’re doing. It’s hard to tell when you’re talking so much - well nervously rambling that is, about the interior choices made for the dingy bar and the nutritious value of their menu (fuck who cares?)

But he listens to you anyway while his eyes trail along your lanky frame, eyeing your every little reaction to him (What ? He’s bored and he has no interest in the mind numbing football game playing on the television nor the group of rowdy men who look like they’re on a mission to drink themselves to an early death)

So he watches; watches how you jump when your fingers accidentally brush, watches how you avoid eye contract when he leans in close to your ear to ask you something, watches how you stumble over your words when he laughs or smiles at something you said.

At some point he watches you start squirming around in your seat and that’s when he notices the outline of your boner showing through your ill fitting jeans (Jesus Christ, this is what you’ve been hiding kid?) Despite being in a dimly lit bar he can tell you’ve opted out of wearing briefs, cockhead firmly pushing against your jeans and casting a dark spot that’s probably the reason as to why you’re squirming around in your seat

Now it’s his turn to jump as your knees knock together, gaze avoiding yours because how is he supposed to look you in the eyes when he’d been shamelessly staring at your crotch? and now he’s the one who can’t get through a sentence without stumbling over his words because all he can think about is all the ways he could cum with the help of your cock.

It doesn’t take much before he’s inviting you back to his house.

For a moment you look surprised by the invite, probably haven’t expected that and truth be told he’s surprised himself since he usually isn’t one for one night stands and if he were to do one it would be in a cheap motel not in such an intimate space like his place. But something about you has him acting like a horny teenager who’d just seen their first pair of tits.

You’re quick to accept the offer though, even thanking him for inviting you into his home (such a strange thing to do but somehow he can’t help but be endeared by the gesture)

Well at his place you continue your nervous blabbering, talking about his choice of decor or lack there of (fuck you love to talk don’t you?) while he continues thinking about all the ways he’s going to cum tonight.

Eventually he leans in for a kiss, swiftly cutting off your blabbering, tongue slipping past your lips to and tasting the sweet drink you’d been sipping.

A breathy sigh escapes your lips, hips bucking against his and he can’t help but notice the way your hard cock is firmly pressing against him.

“Christ, take this off kid,” he breathes against your lips and tugs at the belt you’re wearing, watches in amusement as you practically yank it off of your body along with the pair of pants you’re wearing.

Once you’ve complety stripped down he can finally see what he’d been eyeing all night and yeah he was right, you’re big, bigger than anyone he’s taken before, cock girthy and curving past your belly button, with an angry vein protruding to the side and a heavy set of balls hanging between your thighs.

And in that very moment he can’t help but thank everything under the sun for having decided to wear a plug to the bar, hole twitching in anticipation at the thought of all the ways he’s going to be skewed onto your cock.

Just as he’s about to tug his own shirt off, you go to speak before swiftly halting yourself.

“What? You’re not about to tell me you’re a virgin are you?” He says, in a joking tone something that quickly fades into something more serious as you continue to stand there staring at him without saying a word.

Suddenly he feels like he’s been splashed with a bucket of ice cold water and the first thing on his mind is to tell you take your clothes and get out because he’s not fucking a virgin tonight, that’s for damn sure. However just as he’s about to utter those words you manage to splutter out a response.

“Nonono I’m not but-,” you try to say, hand aimlessly flailing in the air before you continue speaking . “…I just I- won’t last long.”

That’s when he laughs, a long hearty laugh, that has his head tipping back, hand clutching onto his stomach and he knows he should feel bad for laughing so much but he just hadnt expected those words to come out your mouth

When he finally manages to gather himself you’re looking absolutely flustered, hands fisting your clothes and looking like you’re about to sprint out of here and he can’t help but want to take you out of your miserry

“don’t worry about it kid, just sit down for me yeah?”He says, nods his head over to his worn out blue couch: the one he usually sits in to drink his morning tea, the one he usually falls asleep in while watching reruns of some forgotten tv series , the one that is now adorned with a pretty boy with sugary sweet lips, cock hard and weeping between your legs, just patiently waiting for someone like him to come sit on it.

The thought itself is enough to kick him into gear and as he proceeds to strip the clothes off him he can’t help but notice the way your gaze follows him closely, an observation that stirs something foreign inside of him

It’s been a while since someone looked at him like this -like really looked at him, not with pity in their eyes because they know death’s patiently waiting at his side but with pure hunger, as you trail your gaze over every mark, every scar, every inch of skin he uncovers as he slowly takes his clothes off.

He can only take so much before he feels compelled to speak “Easy there, if you continue on like this you’ll finish before we get to do anything “

That seems enough to snap you out of your trance, looking absolutely flustered and once again he can’t help but be endeared by you (Christ, he really needs to get get it together)

“Still sure about this?” he says, and busies himself with rummaging around for the lube and condom he keeps in a drawer.

He only gets a meek hum in response and when he turns his head to look at you he sees your gaze focused on his lower half, probably eyeing the plug he’s got on.

The realization has his hole twitching in anticipation before he’s walking over to you with lube and a condom.

“Seriously has anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” He asks with a small smile on his face.

“‘M sorry-“ you begin to say before he leans down and cuts you off with a kiss, even hears a moan of his own escaping his own lips. He’s kissed many men before, that’s for sure. Some kisses had been snuck in dark bars others have been done in a drunken haze while in cheap motels.

But they’ve never felt like this- hungry, frantic almost leaving him weak at the knees as you thrust your tongue into him, sharp teeth nipping at tender skin , and hands wandering all over his body as if you can’t get enough of him.

It takes everything in him to break the kiss , and he hears a sound of protest escapes your lips, hand desperately clawing at his hips to pull him back in.

“that’s enough,” he says voice all firm but there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze as he peers down at you . “Got to save some of the fun remember ? Gonna let this old man ride your cock?”

“Yes yes yes please I’ll do anything just please-” you cry out, practically choking up on your words, while keeping a vice like grip on him.

“Shh easy there” he says, and gently nudges you back into the chair, before swiftly pulling the plug out of him.

A gasp escapes his lips as the cold air blows on sensitive skin, hungry hole now clenching around nothing. “Christ!”

Despite the strong desire to jump your bones- especially with the way you’re looking at him right now, he knows that he isn’t stretched enough for your cock.

So he tosses the condom your way before he opens the cap to the lube bottle and pours the content into his hand, fingers making quick work of warming it up for him.

It doesn’t take much before he’s got his slick finger pressed up against his rim, pushing it inside without much resistance as a soft exhale escapes his lips “you’re - ah you’re so big kid, can’t ah can’t take you like this”

He only hears a strangled sound escape your mouth as the words roll off of his tongue, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he works a second finger inside.

“Fuck me,” he breathes out, head tipping back, as waves of pleasure start running down his spine, all while you closely watch him the entire time.

And as a third finger joins into the mix he turns his eyes to look at you, noticing the way you’re looking at him all teary eyed, poor neglected cock weeping against your stomach and his voice is all hoarse as he says the words “you can touch yourself son it’s alright ”

You don’t waste a second wrapping a hand around your dick, erratically stroking from rot to tip as you keep your eyes glued to him. “Ah fuck! Feels - feels so good sir please ! Need- ah fuck need to fuck you please sir please”

“God you should see yourself kid, so pretty like this, so eager for an old man like me,” he breathes out, continues moving his fingers in and out, almost matching the pace of your own hand.

He wonders if this is how it would feel being speared onto your dick, fat cockhead nudging against his prostate with every thrust of your hips, his hungry hole taking your size as if it were nothing.

“Sir- going to cum please-“ he hears you cry out and the sound of your words snap him back into the present moment.

“Stop,”

A strangled sob escapes your lips, almost reluctant to pull your hand away from your dick but obedient as you are you listen to him.

Atta boy

He walks over to you on shaky legs, hand cupping your teary soaked face, slick thumb brushing over your cheek as he says “Want you to cum inside me, that alright with ya?”

You furiously nod your head in response looking so ridiculous he can’t help but chuckle before he turns around for you.

And as he stands there caged between your legs he can’t help but notice the warmth radiating from your skin, the smell of your cologne that’s biting at his nostrils, and the sweet sounds you’ve been making all night that are now trickling straight into his ear.

It’s only then he realizes how very real this is and how this isn’t just another dream his lonely mind had conjured up for him.

“Go easy on me alright? Been a while since I did this with someone,” he says, feels your cockhead circling his entrance before you slowly push inside of him.

“Jesus Christ!” He says through gritted teeth, face scrunching up, and nails clamping onto the couch as his body gets accustomed to the feeling of being stretched around your dick.

“Is this ah- is this alright sir?” You say, under a shaky breath, body quaking as you continue to sink inside of him.

“Going to tear me in half kid” he barks out, as the burn persist. Every nerve in his body is practically screaming as you continue to push your way inside of him but despite all of that there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Eventually he gets used to the stretch, the burning sensation dulling a bit as his body starts to relax “Fuck just like that, going to make me feel so good aren’t you?” He murmurs out, hands loosening their grip on the couch as he shuffles around to get more comfortable.

“Yes yes yes please want to be good for you god please I need-“ you slur out, and he feels your body violently shaking beneath him.

“Shhh easy there,” he coos out, voice a bit wobbly as you finally bottom out.

He makes a point to ignore the way you’re buried so deep he can feel your ballsack kissing his ass, and can practically taste you at the back of his mouth, just so he can help you out “Breathe in for me yeah?”

Without fail you do as he says “now breathe out for me okay?” Just like before you do as he says, body now much less tense and head relaxing in the crook of his neck.

He gives you a couple of moments to catch your breath before he slowly raises his hips and pushes them back down again. “Oh- oh mpfh fuck!”

“Go-god- so- so good sir” he hears you cry out as his hungry hole continues to swallow your cock.

And fuck if he doesn’t agree, feels as if the breath has been punched out of him with every thrust of his hips, knees already screaming in protest but being way too addicted to the feeling of your cockhead continuously jabbing at his prostate.

“Mhp! Feels so good kid, think- ah think I can feel you here” he grunts out, hand blindly searching for your own before placing it on the slick skin of his stomach. “Feel it,”

“Ah fuck! Sir please please want to make you feel good please!” You sob into his neck, unable to do anything but take it as he bounces on your dick.

“But you are,” he says, makes sure to puncture every word with a thrust of his hips “going to make me cum just like this,” and he really means it, doesn’t need a warm palm around his dick with the way heat’s already coiling in the pit of his stomach.

“Going to cum too,” you whine out, hips now meeting his thrust which catches him off guard.

“Fuck! Just like that, keep going,” he says through gritted teeth, the fire in his abdomen growing stronger and overtaking everything in his body as you continue to slam into him.

“Think I’m gonna” you splutter out, hips stuttering.

“Yeah you gonna come inside this old man? Come on then want to feel you,” he manages to say, as the world around him starts to blur out, ears ringing loud and before he knows of it you’re cumming , a loud moan tumbling past your mouth as you clutch onto him for dear life.

It doesn’t take much before he too reaches his orgasm.

“Ah fuck!” He cries out, body quaking in your lap as hot white ropes of cum spurt onto his stomach.



For a moment there are no words exchanged as the two of you take the opportunity to catch your breath but when you finally decide to speak the first thing you say is “so how about round two?”

His eyes widen in surprise before he bursts into laughter “you’re going to kill me you know that kid?”