#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!!”

[jillsandwhichs]

Midnight

Chapter 8 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You are studying at your friend Sarah's house and you get to meet her dad, Joel Miller. Later that evening, Sarah heads to bed and you crash on her couch, continuing to study. However, that studying is soon interrupted when Mr. Miller decides to strike up a convo with you—one that turns into something much more

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Acquainted/Hookup

WC: 4.8k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Age gap, Making out, Dirty talk, Breast play, Protected P in V, Riding, Spanking, Minor Dom!Joel, Degradation kink (Not too major but it is present) and Choking

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

As your friend Sarah parked her car, she cleared her throat and opened the driver's side door. You opened the passenger door and got out, grabbing your backpack and slinging it across your shoulder, keeping it secure in that spot. You closed the door and as you did, you heard the sound of Sarah locking her 2010 Bentley. Her dad, Joel, who you are about to meet for the first time, bought it for her when she turned sixteen.

She is now twenty-one and you're nineteen. You two go to College together. She majors in Geology whereas you are a Psychology major. You two couldn't be more different with what career paths you want to go down but the two of you have bonded beautifully nonetheless. Yet despite being so close, you've never been to her place. It's either your apartment or at the local library. For once though, she invited you to her house which is in the suburbs of downtown Austin TX.

Sarah used her key to open the front door to the house and stepped aside, allowing you to enter first. The house was cozy looking just from the area you first entered in. It smelt nice too though you couldn't quite pin down what the scent could be exactly. You took off your Doc Martins and hung your jacket up on the rack as Sarah did the same, removing her Converse and tossing her jacket on the floor. Of course, you plan to have as good a set of manners as you can.

"Just through here, we can study at the dining table." Sarah said softly, removing her backpack from her back and holding it close. You followed behind her and as you did, you saw a tall, muscular yet older man standing in the kitchen. You recognized him too, it's her father, Joel. He's definitely much taller than you expected and looks a bit older too. He has to be in his late thirties at best. Sarah was clearly surprised to see her dad as she set her bag down and ambled over to him.

"Dad, I didn't think you'd be home so early," She glanced at the clock, "It's only seven." Joel set his soda can down and looked at the digital oven clock and nodded. "Yeah, boss let me and your uncle off early today. How was class?" He asked her, his voice thick with a southern accent. Honestly, it was pretty attractive. You silently took a seat at the table as they continued to converse. "Fine. Boring. I just want to get to the good stuff, you know?" "I know baby but you have to be patient." Joel snickered.

Sarah nodded and pulled two water bottles from the fridge, tossing one to you and keeping the other one in hand. "You goin' introduce me to your friend over here?" Joel pointed at you and gandered over at Sarah. "Right..." Sarah introduced you, then introduced him to you. "And this is my amazing dad, Joel." Sarah said sarcastically yet lovingly as she took a seat across from you. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Miller." You said with a smile. He snorted and shook his head. "Call me Joel."

Joel. Right. You probably sounded stupid by being so formal. You chuckled and nodded. "Okay." You murmured. Joel turned back to face Sarah. "I'll be up in my room so uh, if either of ya's need me, just come and knock." "Okay dad." Sarah nodded and began to take stuff out of her bag. "It was nice to meet ya." Joel stated to you. "Nice to meet you too, Joel." You smiled. He then inched off towards the staircase before leaving the downstairs area.

Before you knew it, you and Sarah had all of your study supplies out. Everything from your laptop to notebooks, you two were prepared. Finals are coming up and there is absolutely no way you plan to fail any of them, especially for you Psychology 101 class. You have studied and worked your ass off day and night for that class. You'll be damned if you get anything lower than a 90%.

"This class is kicking my ass." "Which one?" "Advanced Geology studies. I can't wait to become a paleontologist but working towards it is a bitch." Sarah laughed and rubbed her temple. "I get it. I am beyond excited to become a psychiatrist but the last thing I want to be doing right now is studying. I'd much rather be out getting drunk and eating junk food." You snorted. Sarah nodded. She couldn't agree more.

You two have gone to your fair share of College parties. They all suck, in all honesty, but they are fun. You and Sarah always go to them together. The last time you guys went to one was about a month ago so a break would be pleasant. And, it was like Sarah read your mind. "If we finish studying early, I can order us some dinner." "That would be fantastic." You said as you grabbed out extra notes from your backpack.

"Let's get to it then." Sarah groaned before putting that black gel pen to paper. You instead used your laptop, at least for this studying session.

The clock starts now.

-

Your fingers were beginning to cramp up. All of that typing and writing does that to you. Just by looking at Sarah, you could tell she was exhausted. The only thing keeping her awake now was the fact food was right in front of her. You two decided to not wait and ended up ordering Chinese about an hour into studying. It's now almost ten at night and Sarah is clearly spent. Occasionally, she takes a bite of her noodles and coconut chicken but other than that, she's staring off into space.

"You good?" You giggled and used your chopsticks to get a piece of sesame chicken into your needy mouth. "Yes, yes I am." Sarah rubbed her eyes and took a drink of her water. "I am dropping out of College." She joked and took another bite of her food. You laughed and nodded. "I feel ya... Are you going to go to sleep then?" "Here in a bit, most definitely. As for you, you can either crash on my floor or on the couch—whichever you prefer."

You thought about that for a moment. Both are fine options. Though, you'll probably sleep down here so you don't disturb her whilst you continue to study.

Slurping up some more noodles, you sighed and swallowed them. "I'll crash down here, I plan to study more, so." "More!? You are insane." Sarah's eyes went wide and she rolled them playfully. "I don't play around when it comes to finals. This noggin has to acquire as much knowledge as possible." You giggled and stretched out your fingers, trying to release them from the uncomfortable feeling of cramps and stiffness. "If you say so, props to you." Sarah stood up and closed her takeout box.

"I'm spent for the night, I'll continue in the morning." She stated as she ambled over to the fridge. She opened it up and set her Chinese food inside of it to save for later. You figured you'll do the same once you get full. "I'm heading to bed girl. If you need anything, help yourself, nothing is off limits." Sarah assured you. As she walked past you, she patted your head playfully and grabbed her water. "Goodnight!" You said kindly, waving to her. "Nighty night." Were her last words.

A minute or so later, you heard her bedroom door shut and you released a sigh. Now you are all alone. It isn't so bad though. You decided you'd finish up your food then sit on the couch to study, that'll be much more comfortable.

-

You found yourself on the couch shortly after. Your laptop rested in your lap and you had your earbuds in. The song playing was Dreams by Fleetwood Mac—one of your favorites. As you listened to a classic tune, you scrolled on YouTube, finding videos to benefit your study sesh. You found quite a few and added them to your 'Studying' playlist in which you use very often.

Tonight went well. You had a good time with Sarah despite the boring studying, you got yummy food which you devoured and you even met her dad after all this time. Joel doesn't seem bad at all. He's kind, welcoming and well, hot. Of course, you'd never make your attraction towards him obvious, he's your best friends dad! But the moment you saw him, your stomach did flips and you had to hold back a grin.

You shook the thoughts from your head and went back to focusing. You sighed deeply and began to type in a new docs. You've typed out four different ones just in this singular night. It's been rough but you know it's insanely worth it in the long run. You are so proud of how far you've come in College-it is truly amazing.

As you typed more and more, you must've not noticed the six foot man traverse down the stairs and say hello to you until you glanced up and saw him standing in front of you, a tallboy in hand. "Oh." You muttered and paused your music, removing your ear buds and looking up at him. "Hey, Mr. Miller-I mean, Joel." "Hello." He snickered and sat down beside you, stretching and letting out a low groan. You honestly thought he was sleeping.

"What're you studyin'?" You heard Joel ask. You cleared your throat and turned your laptop more to face him. "Just studying for my finals-currently for my Biochem class." "Biochemistry, huh? That your major?" "Absolutely not." You snorted. You'd rather shoot yourself, actually. "I major in Psychology." "Ah, psychology. Pretty sure Sarah wanted to major in that at one point or another." "She did. She's good with Geology though." You stated and paused your studying session to just speak with this man.

Joel sipped his beer and cleared his throat, the cold, refreshing drink clearing it up naturally too. Joel gandered at the coffee table then at your hands. "You drink?" "Oh uhm..." You stuttered. You're nineteen, he realizes that, right? You do drink from time to time but why would you admit that? "I'm not dumb." Joel snickered. "You want a beer or is wine more your thing?" "Beer." You stated plainly. "Atta girl." Joel nudged your knee and stood up, stumbling over to the fridge.

He grabbed out a beer from the fridge and walked back over to you, setting it on the coffee table and gazing at you. "How old are ya?" "Oh, I'm nineteen." "Young. Don't let life slip past ya." Joel snickered and chugged some of his beer. As he did, his blue work shirt slightly lifted up, offering you a glance of his pudgy stomach. You bit your lower lip and looked away, staring at your laptops bright screen. You can't even deny that seeing his stomach was enticing.

You grabbed the beer and opened it up. The crackling sound of cracking it open was satisfying. You brought it up to your lips and took a sip. It was strong but not hardcore, you could handle it. It was bland though, definitely not the best beer you've had but hey, it's from an older man's fridge, what else can you really expect? Joel laughed when seeing you drink it. Admittedly, he was surprised you handled it with grace.

Joel chuckled after seeing you drink the beer so casually. It isn't everyday he sees a girl of your age and size handle a beer straight like that. Admittedly, he found it rather attractive.

"Surprised you ain't out yet, I heard Sarah crash upstairs not too long ago." "Yeah, I'm not very tired yet. I'm usually awake until midnight anyways." "Midnight? As a College student? You're crazy." Joel teased and drank more of his beer. Everyone says that. You should head to bed earlier but you're simply rarely tired until later at night. You set your beer down and closed your laptop (You can resume your work later, when you aren't so... Distracted...).

You had changed before sitting on the couch. You're wearing something rather... Revealing? It's a pair of lacey shorts with a matching top which definitely shows off your cleavage. You hope Joel doesn't mind or doesn't even notice overall. When you peeped over at him, he was focused on his beer and whatever else he was thinking about. That's a good sign.

"So uhm, Joel, what do you do for work?" You decided to make conversation so the tension wasn't so evident. "Contractor. It's basically construction and carpeting mixed together." Joel stated. "I see. That's a tough job." "When ya start, yeah, then you get used to it and it's nothin'." He established. Seems true enough but that can go for really any job, right? You're such becoming a psychiatrist will have a similar outcome.

"With your degree, what do you plan to become?" "Psychiatrist." "Study the human brain, I see. Bet if ya studied mine, you'd either be terrified or disgusted." Joel laughed and put his beer down. "Why's that?" "An old man like myself ain't got nothin' innocent up in the brain." He cackled and undid his belt, tossing it off to the side to let his stomach have more space. An innocent act yet, your brain immediately shifted to something more seducing.

Guess a young mind isn't so different then.

You giggled and rested your head in your hand. "What makes you think a young mind is any different?" "All College students have similar things up in their heads. Work, homework, alcohol and sex... That ain't nothin' darlin'." Darling? What an odd thing to randomly call you. You felt your stomach flip at the sudden petname and the eye contact he decided to initiate. You looked down and bit your lip. "You aren't wrong." You snorted.

Sex. That's on your mind often.

"So what's on your mind then? Murder? How to buy cocaine?" You joked. "Sometimes." He teased back. "What's really on your mind?" You questioned him in a low, enticing tone-it wasn't even intentional either, it just sort of... Came out. "Right now?" "Sure." "Money, takin' a shower and sex." You laughed at his response. Seems like the average manly reply. Money, taking a shower and sex. Sex. Sex is on his mind right now?"

Joel smirked and looked you in the eyes. "How 'bout you?" "Well, let's see... Studying, Christmas break because that'll be heavenly and uhh, sex." You plainly said. You bit your lip afterwards and adjusted your seating position. Joel looked you up and down and nodded. "Sex for you too then, huh?" Joel let out a breathless snicker. You nodded and fluttered your eyes at him. Shit. Are you really seducing your best friend's dad? You are a total bitch.

You felt Joel's hand slither to your thigh. You breathed in a sharp breath and looked down, noticing his hand trailing upwards. It felt so good. It made your stomach twist and churn in the best ways possible. "Are you a virgin?" "No." You whispered as his hand moved closer to your pussy. It was covered by your shorts, but they have easy access. You are wet. You can feel it. You are pulsing. It's all because of this older fucking man.

"Who's the oldest guy you've fucked?" Joel was so straight forward. You cleared your throat. "I don't know... Seventeen or eighteen." You admitted. "Christ." He chuckled. "I'm almost fourty, that okay?" Joel asked. He's a man, such a man but a respectful one. The moment he saw you earlier, he could've came in his pants right then and there. You are gorgeous. He saw you and hell, if Sarah wasn't there he would've hit on you then and there.

Sarah has brought over a handful of friends and all of them were nothin' compared to you. In fact, he's never done anything with her friends. The craziest he's ever done is hookup with his brother's ex but, he'll never admit that to anybody.

As Joel's fingers inched closer to your special spot, you grabbed his hand and looked at him with an alarmed look. "What about Sarah?" "She's asleep." "I know but I can't just hookup with my friend's dad." "Yeah you can, I'm right here." Joel touched your pelvic area and earned a whimper out of you. The touch coming from him was something different. You wanted to give in and honestly, you plan to. This doesn't harm Sarah in any way, yeah? She won't even know.

You slowly let go of his hand and this gave Joel the green light. His fingers slipped passed the fabric of your shorts and you felt two of his finger tips against your damp underwear. He can most definitely feel how wet you are. "I've hardly fuckin' touched ya and you are this wet?" "Sorry." You looked down in shame. Though, Joel snickered. "Hell are you apologizing for? I think it's sexy." He said in a sexy, deep voice before he suddenly pulled you into his lap.

You straddled him and felt shivers trail down your spine. The two other boys you've been with were not this straight forward. You looked down and encased your arms around his neck, not knowing where else to put them. Joel's hands remained on your upper thighs. "Tell me," Joel began, "What is it you want?" You have no clue. You want Joel to lead the way, quite frankly. "What I want is..." You murmured before making eye contact with him. "I want you to do whatever it is you'd like to do to me." You whispered out.

A faint, hushed breath came from Joel as he heard you say that. He squeezed your thighs and looked into your alluring eyes. "Jesus Christ." You felt Joel harden beneath you. Did you seriously turn this man on even further? You're proud of yourself for that. "I want you to ride me." Joel breathed heavily and patted your ass, making you squeak. You've rode a guy, once, but you've done it. At least you won't be going into this completely blindsided.

Breathing in deeply, you nodded. "Okay." You smiled. Whilst on top of him, you leaned back and pulled your sleeping shirt off. You weren't wearing a bra beneath it-you aren't supposed to sleep in bras. Once it was off, Joel immediately latched onto your left tit. You gasped and held onto his head, your fingers trailing through his brunette hair. "Oooh fuck." You whimpered and took it.

Joel suckled and swirled all over your nipples and breasts. It felt amazing. It was a euphoric feeling. His tounge worked wonderfully around your perky breasts. All you did was caress his hair and be supporting. He pulled away and now kissed you. His lips aggressively went up against yours and you moaned, kissing him just as passionately back. This felt so surreal. Shortly after making out with you, he pulled away and went back to sucking your tits.

Autonomously, you felt yourself grinding against him. You could feel your folds becoming more and more wet. The friction of you against him, dry humping him, was enough to turn you on even more. Joel's hands held onto your thighs tighter as you continued. You've never felt this drawn to somebody before. You want your hands all over him, and his all over you. You shouldn't feel this way. This is Sarah's fucking dad! You are a total cunt for even kissing him let alone preparing to ride him.

He let go of your tits and gazed into your eyes, patting your thighs. "Here," He grunted and leaned back. Joel pulled his blue, stained work shirt over his hand and threw it onto the floor. You placed your hands on his chest and dragged them down to his jeans. His belt was already off. You reached inside his jeans and immediately felt his erection. Oh, he's hard. It was so sexy-the fact he was twitching and pulsing over you.

"Take your shorts off, I'll do this." Joel stated, beginning to mess with his pants. You nodded and stood up for just a moment, dropping down your silkly pants and leaving your pink, laced undies on. Joel finds them cute. You climbed back onto his lap as he pulled out his hard cock. It is long & girthy. You are a bit amazed, in all honesty. He's bigger than anyone you've been with. You can't wait to feel how he feels inside of you.

"Do you have a condom?" "Yeah, I do." Joel reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled one out. You were a bit confused as to why he already had one on him but you decided not to bother with it. You held onto him as he began to wrap himself up. The second that condom is on, it's game time. He pulled the rubber down... And down... And down. He's long, your mind isn't just playing tricks on you. You wonder how he'll feel once inside of your dripping cunt.

Joel's hand went to your panties and pulled them to the side. As he did that, you heard him groan. "You're fuckin' soaked. You get like this for just any guy?" "No... Not usually..." It was odd. No man has ever turned you on like this. Joel is different. He's a real man. "You're a dirty girl." He slid his index through your folds, causing you to shutter and grip onto his skin more firmly. "But you'll take my cock good, right?"

His words. The way he speaks. He's a pro. Let the water gates flood! You moaned and nodded. "Yes." "Good girl." Joel slapped your ass before gripping it and pulling you down onto his length. He gave you no time to adjust. You moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck once again, needing that closure. He was deep inside of you already. It feels... Different. You don't know if it's because he's bigger and longer or if it's because well, it's this guy.

For some reason, you have a feeling it's a mixture of both.

After testing the waters and feeling for what's best, you began to ride him. You grinded your hips back and fourth on his lap, his length teasing your inner walls. With each movement, even just the slightest, you'd earn a groan or a grunt out of Joel. "Fuck." Joel murmured, his hands squeezing your rear as you moved against him. "You're fuckin' tight." He praised you. "You spread your legs for just any guy then, huh? Dirty fuckin' girl." Joel degraded you.

Oddly enough, you found that hot.

You bit your lip and moved against him faster. Joel would occasionally spank you and you're sure there'll be red marks on both cheeks once he's done with you. It feels so good. Having this man deep within you is a pleasure and it's all yours. You moaned and tossed your head back and as you did, you felt his hand grip it and squeeze it. "Stay quiet, you hear? Don't need Sarah hearin' us." Joel stated to you. He's right.

But fuck, how can you stay quiet? This feels extraordinary. Just inside of you, you can feel his dick twitching. You're sure he hasn't had a good pussy like yours in awhile. You began to bounce on him and with each one, Joel seethed and held onto you tighter. "Look at ya, you know what you're doin'." He's right. You do. Maybe you are a whore, a slut, whatever, you don't care-just as long as he's the one calling you such names.

"Keep ridin' me like the fuckin' desperate girl you are. I saw you eye-fuckin me earlier, don't think you're slick." Well damn. You suppose he isn't stupid. You whimpered and rode him much faster & harder now. You began to mix your grinding and bouncing together, creating the ultimate pleasurable feeling. He let go of your neck and went back to holding your ass. He slapped it, hard, earning a squeak out of you. Such a good feeling this is.

You smashed your lips against his and licked his lower lip. Joel laughed and opened his mouth, allowing you to explore it. You slipped your tounge inside and smiled against his lips. The warmth of his mouth was comforting and a feeling that was only bringing you closer to the edge. His hands caressed your bum softly before spanking it once again and this time after spanking you, he began to move your hips forward, taking over.

"You've clearly been needin' this, hm? You a whore?" "No." Was all you managed you get up. Joel scoffed and kissed you again, this time moving his tongue roughly into your mouth. At the sudden kiss, you held onto him tighter. You can feel your orgasm building up, it's so very evident. He pulled away and spit drabbles off of your lips. "That right? You ain't a whore? You're sure as hell actin' like one." He then began to kiss your neck.

Those soft kisses. He planted numerous of them on the inner parts of your throat. You are so close. You're going to cum any moment now. "I feel... Joel..." You shuttered out, your body beginning to shake. "That'a girl, cum for me." With just a few more bounces and grinds, you finally hit your breaking point. You moaned loudly but Joel was quick to kiss you just to shut you up. You held onto the back of his head, pulling and tugging on his scraggly hair.

Joel held your waist in place as he began to thrust upwards. Each thrust made him realize how wrong yet right this feels/is. Fucking his own daughters best friend? Hell, what's gotten into him? At the same time however, he doesn't regret a damn thing.

One more thrust and boom, Joel's hot seed bursted into the rubber. He grunted and gripped your ass as he finished into the condom. You simply kept your head in the crook of his neck, trying to process this entire situation.

After he came down from his high, he patted your ass so you'd get off of him and you did. You plopped onto the couch and continued to breath rather heavily. That was intense, it was insane. You glanced over at Joel who simply picked his beer up and drank a big swig out of it. He's probably processing this just as you are. You don't know how to feel about all of this anyways.

He looked over at you and smirked. "Sarah don't need to know about this, yeah?" He stated as he began to fix his pants and throw his shirt back on. "Definitely." You nodded. This is your guy's little secret. "What do we do now...?" You murmured. "I'm goin' take my happy ass to bed but uh, my number is on the fridge door so if you ever need me, I'll be there." Joel winked and fixed his pants as he stood up.

That's it? He just fucked you and now leaves? Is every man like this? You scoffed and put your shirt back on. "What's the attitude for?" "Nothing. Hand me my pants." Joel leaned down and grabbed them, kneeling down and putting them past your ankles, pulling them up for you. "Don't take what we did personal, sweet thing. It was just another hookup for me, alright?" Just another hookup. Right.

You nodded, despite not agreeing. He is giving you his number so that's nice, you think? After getting fully dressed again, you sighed deeply and sat down on the couch. Joel drew himself closer to your face and planted and kiss on your cheek. "Don't ever tell anyone 'bout this, you hear?" "Mhm." You mumbled and pulled the brown blanket over you, just wanting to be covered up completely now.

He pulled away and gazed at you. "For the record, you are the best I've had in awhile." Was that meant to magically make you feel better? You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay then." You put plainly. He picked up his beer and began to slowly walk backwards towards the stairs. "Numbers on the fridge." Were the last words he said before he began to leave, heading back to his bedroom.

"Numbers on the fridge." You whispered to yourself and scoffed, turning off the lamp to your right and laying down on the couch. What a fucking evening this has been.

[mymoshangthoughts]

okay i know that we all know and love "mobei jun basically marries shang qinghua and shang qinghua is too oblivious/busy/stressed/insecure/etc to realize until its ridiculous" but like

have we considered the opposite? (also if we have considered the opposite, please someone link me to the fics thankyou)

look im just saying i would love a morally bankrupt shang qinghua whose just like "okay so imma marry that man and im 99% sure he loves me too so im just gonna force the issue" but mobei jun is so unfamiliar with human courting and weddings that he just has No Fucking Idea and he's spending all this time pathetically pining after shang qinghua without the slightest understanding that they're already in a committed relationship

i just keep thinking about how mobei jun answered binghe on the "get someones attention question" and how genuinely surprised he was by shang qinghua's answer 🤣 like he reallllyyyy doesnt know the first thing about human courting oki and it's hilarious

also my personal hc but i totally think that shang qinghua is the type of morally corrupt asshole who would 100% trap the guy he wants if he had any inkling that he wouldnt get murdered for doing it

(this might be because i see shang qinghua and luo binghe as sorta similar personality-wise🤣)

even better if the story is just ridiculous for mobei jun not to realize. just him practically breaking down with "i mean we have sex twice a day and we're always at each others sides and qinghua arranged this weird ceremony a year ago and insisted we had to wear red for some reason but like... qinghua is super weird and he never hits me so i dont think he loves me 😭 i mean he did hit me the first time we had sex but it was only the one time!"

sha hualing just like "hm, yeah, that is a lot of mixed signals :/ idk what to tell you man, i think your feelings are unrequited. also that gross rodent isnt worth your time. also get out of my house, i am 100% sick of dealing with this shit after binghe"

shang qinghua literally oblivious to the agony he's putting mobei jun through 🤣

[harumasa-wifey]

Hey! Glad that more people who love Zenless are here on tumblr. And I’ve been loving some characters but I’m trying to see if i really like Harumasa. So mind helping me out with some headcanons?

Harumasa with a dragon thiren reader who works a bookshop (and secretly is a proxy) who can summon wings, a tail, and a horn✨

Just general headcanons on how this relationship would be!

Harumasa x Dragon Thiren!Reader

Warning: none, not proofread!

Note: my ass had to skip and skimp through some parts so i was genuinely confused what a Thiren is then i found a post on reddit explaining what it is. Thank you for requesting and having patience!

At first he doesn't look like a guy who would visit a Bookshop so often but he does read books sometimes rather than the papers in office.

After hearing from yanagi that you keep some of the best books around the sixth Street oh well he had to visit

Though you keep your tail and wings hidden most of the time you wear a cloak around you a short one to keep it over your head to cover the horns it's energy consuming to hide them all the time.

You keep your bookstore in the vintage style! It's a good change of place without electronics around. ( A big ass lie)

Of course you were surprised by the first visit of yanagi even and now him got you thinking you might get behind the bars soon.

You really haven't done anything bad being a proxy quite the opposite you have helped people get out of the hollows and often retrieve lost items as commissions.

Your H.D.D is hidden in the storage room which is also filled with different type of books.

And The siblings are also in your contacts it's never bad to have back ups!

Although he was confused why you had your head covered he didn't question it.

He doesn't know why he found himself often around your bookshop it was almost alluring in a peaceful way.

He doesn't read much he often comes here to seek a nap on one of your reading places yet he has the membership to your shop.

Even your bangboo has become all familiar to him, it always knows it's him when there is only one knock on the door. ( He is too lazy to knock twice anyways lol)

Though your cover as a proxy didn't stay for long under his sharp eyes.

Well it's a whatever case now as you and the siblings were excused as a proxy by miyabi herself.

He never outright told you to show him what you actually are but he definitely hints at it sometimes.

And not to mention those pick up lines he drops every now and then from the books and movies he had watched.

Well of course there is nothing to hide from him now anyways. He was amused he has seen many thirens, an oni a cat, wolf and shark. However seeing a dragon was really amusing to him.

Get ready for the absolute amount of ridiculous questions to be asked. He is not holding back.

He definitely read about dragons in the books you have after that of course and his nap time at the shop is more peaceful than ever now.

He might have asked to see your tail sometimes out of curiosity. Feel free to refuse if you don't wanna go that far. But if you let him see he is amazed how well you hide yourself.

He says the horns on your head add to your charm.

He never saw you fight but he has you running around in your bangboo beside him in the hollow.

He definitely takes his power naps with your tail warped around him.

He has read about dragons banishing evil and bringing good luck so now you are named as "Lucky Charm" in his contacts. Only his lucky charm.

[a-confused-spoon]

...y'know, it's not just the fact that Caitlyn knows Viktor, but the fact that this Caitlyn met this Viktor

I know I already talked about this, but like- HELLO??!

Mind you, Caitlyn isn't just a little sister to Jayce, her parents are also Jayce's patrons and her mother works with Heimerdinger (who Viktor used to work for) on the Council- the Council that basically dictated what kind of use hextech was going to serve in Piltover for however long the timeskip was (as said by Jayce in 1x04), so there's no way these two didn't have at least a couple interactions once Viktor becomes Jayce's partner.

Tell you what, I think these two vibed pretty well too.

First thing first, I just know Caitlyn treated the idea of meeting Viktor the exact same way a younger sibling wants to meet their older sibling's crush; "yeah I need to meet this so-deemed super cool person so I can shit-talk about you to them 'cause it's fun, but also what makes them so special to you and/or so stupid they'd want to spend time with you, allegedly?" type of deal. And there's more to this too 'cause- no wait, I really need to stress this point:

I think it's safe to assume Caitlyn didn't have many friends growing up, if any at all, and Jayce (who's what, twice her age?) is seemingly the only person she shared a bond with where she didn't have to pretend to be someone she didn't feel she was, which only became more and more a thing as time went by.

And everything is fine until the events of 1x02: there's an explosion, Jayce is put away, there's a trial and all of the sudden she's lost her big brother under no explanation other than "he's a misfit and you can't be friends with him anymore", and as far as she knows, Jayce will no longer be in her life and will likely give up all his hard work. She lost her best friend and he lost his purpose in life, all in the span of a single day.

...and then, the very next day, everything seems to be fine again? There's a Council meeting, she's allowed to be cool with Jayce again and when she asks what the fuck happened to this man he opens with "So there's this guy...".

I can only imagine little Caitlyn's thoughts whilst she was processing all the new info: "Okay so you're telling me there's a guy with a funny accent, Piltover's most important person's ex assistant, who I nor anyone's ever heard of nor seen for some forsaken reason, who you met literally last night and he sweet talked you into not giving up because it didn't work when I tried- rude but okay- and then he convinced you to commit a crime to help you complete the research my parents funded? When you were already at risk of exile? And that research was super personal to you specifically, but now it's a you guys' thing? And he's from the- WAIT, HE'S FROM THE UNDERCITY?!!"

'Cause Caitlyn was curious about the undercity as a kid too, innocently so; you're telling her she has the opportunity to talk with someone who didn't just go there, but used to live there? Someone who managed to get where he is with nothing other than the sheer power of will?!

Meeting this Viktor guy is no longer just a little "I wish", it becomes a fucking mission.

...meanwhile Viktor's barely aware the Kirammans have a daughter to begin with.

I mean- he does know, but just because Jayce mentioned her a couple times, perhaps forgetting to mention her being a 14 year-old.

Not that Viktor would give a shit either way, he isn't really fond of anyone in Piltover (aside from Jayce, Heimerdinger and Sky) and the likely spoiled heir of an ultra-rich family is no exception to this, regardless of age. However, she is close to Jayce, and her extremely important family is funding what is also his research now, so he's like "whatever, I guess I'll be as cordial as I can with this miss Caitlyn if I ever meet her".

Which happened, at a certain point in time.

I think Viktor was pleasantly surprised to find out that this good hearted and fairly smart girl was also very curious to know more about the undercity- perhaps he's taken a little aback at first; she is a councilor's daughter and he has to pay attention to what he says around her after all. But at the same time, she is a councilor's daughter and if she's so well intended then why not answer truthfully to her questions when she could, one day, help through her family's influence?

And on the other side, little Caitlyn absolutely adores Viktor, and not just because he's witty and has a funny accent, but because Viktor talks to her like she's an adult.

Cait isn't really used to this sort of treatment, but of course Viktor doesn't address her like a clueless child that needs protection from the real word: that's a privilege the kids in Zaun aren't really given, and they are no less important than her. Besides, what's the harm?

It's also great because whenever the Kirammans organize a ceremony of sorts to celebrate some new hextech achievement as Jayce's patrons, Caitlyn and Viktor would manage to chat separately from the rest of the obnoxiously rich guests, so she doesn't have to feel out of place or babied and he doesn't have to be at the centre of attention as Jayce's partner. Viktor would also get a healthy dose of rich people gossip through little Cait's unintentional open disdain for the environment her parents keep her in, and the only reason why Caitlyn allows herself to lower her guard when talking about it is because she knows damn well that Viktor both probably agrees and has no intention nor reason to tell anyone. If anything, he just comments sarcastically to most stories, and she's happy she can share them with someone who won't say "now now, don't say that about so and so".

And of course, whenever Caitlyn comes to visit them in the lab (not a very common occurrence since the 1x01 accident), Jayce is just happy to see them getting along... whenever Caitlyn isn't whispering something to Viktor while they both look at him, at least.

[totallyanopossum]

COD drabble with Ghost and kortac fmc

Its a girl under all that gear

WC: 1.5k

She's a sniper usually decked out in her gilly suit but even when she's not in the field she's covered in gear and layers that completely hide her identity and gender, she doesn't talk much she's not shy just not good at talking usually gets her in trouble so she keeps quiet and cause of all that new people usually assume she's a guy it doesn't bother her though she just does her job.

 She works with Kortac and they have just been assigned to work with 141 for a joint task force. She keeps to herself like always doesn't speak just nods and uses hand signs which leads others to think that she's a short guy who's mute.

Ghost becomes very curious about ‘Nightcore’ they're like him the silent strong lurking-in-the-corner type, he's never run into them alone and hasn't been able to speak with them. At dinner one day he says to 141“ so anyone spoken with Nightcores what's their deal”.

 They all say they never heard him speak no clue they move so silently one moment they are there the next gone, kinda like you Ghost.

 He finds her in the shooting range early it's just them, he thinks this is his time but he sets up and shoots first. He sees them pull in their target and the shots form a symbol perfectly the skill he's good at. This is his moment, “Impressive work there”

She looks at him and gives him a nod, he is so curious.“Are you mute or tongue cut out?”She starts laughing, he's surprised, she goes over to him and leans against the post.“I've never heard that before, tongue cut out, good one.” Ghost takes it all in and the voice it's female right?“You're a woman”, “Yeah got the tits to prove it too”.

He's in shock, she steps in, pulls his target forward, and checks out his shots. “Not bad, but you are a bit too tense”

She walks away, he's still frozen possessing 1) nightcores is a woman, 2) she's a perfect shot, 3) she corrected his shot, 4) she's got a mouth and attitude.

At lunch, he tells the guys she's a woman but they don't believe him just thinking it's a guy with a feminine voice, he doesn't push more for now it's their secret.

 Konig does a thing for his guys moral while 141s out on a training thing, 141 comes back hearing music and checks it out and finds Kortac partying and Nightcore dancing on a table even in gear the way they move now convinces the guys she's a woman. She calls out to Konig and even though he is in the middle of talking he flawlessly catches her as she throws herself at him and he sets her down and she heads over to 141. Konig gets to her and grabs her belt and tells her “Other way soldier”. She makes some hand gestures but goes. Price asks what's that about, Konig explains Nightcores a loose Canon when drunk.

Meanwhile, behind Price and Konig, Soap says “Okay I think you're right about that being a girl”. Konig continues,” She's got no filter and when she's drunk . She doesn't remember to keep her mouth shut”, that confirms it, she's a girl, they all say Nighcores a girl, and Konig nods. Price says “so that's why she doesn't speak cause she has no filter”, Konig nods “yeah she'll mouth off and say the most out-of-pocket shit to anyone”, Konig says “I'll try to get this wrapped up sorry for it being loud”

 The next day at breakfast they were all looking at her amazed it's a woman and the way she was dancing and how bold she was and that she doesn't speak cause she mouths off. Ghost finds her making some tea later that day. “Hangover?” she shakes her head no, “Really after last night”, he's saying all the right things to egg her on trying to get her to speak and it works. “last night was nothing... oh don't mean to offend it that's all you brits can handle”, he chuckles at that, usually she gets a smack when she says something like that to a superior but he's laughing, they share more moments like this.

Shit has been going suspiciously wrong and 141 brings up someone being a mole and they look at her and accuse her this sets her off and she speaks. Ghost can feel the rage and emotion coming off her and knows they are wrong. She gets on the table and starts throwing off her layers and gear while ranting, Konig doesn't stop her, she strips down to just her underwear and shows them all her scars. “I was captive and tortured for over a year and I didn't say a word didn't give them a sound, not a single word, I'm not a mother fucking goddam spy I've given blood and flesh for my brothers, my comrades so fuck yall cause I'd give blood and flesh again for fuckers like you and you'd just turn around and accuse me... so much for my sacrifice huh”. she storms out.

141 just curses under their breath, Ghost feels so bad and wants to go to her but knows she wouldn't take it well probably. Konig picks up her stuff,” She'll cool down but it best to steer clear for the next 24 hours she can get a bit stabby... but price your right there's been too many coincidences let's meet at [ ] to discuss more”, Konig walks back and price says “I'm sorry”.

Konig goes, finding her in the training room beating a dummy bag, seeing her like this scars out reminds him of the day he found her and it breaks his heart a little bit. He goes to her and “Come on mazi that's enough”, she turns on him “Why does everyone always come to those assumptions about me I know I don't talk and stuff but still... why,” he says “Cause your good mazi the fucking best I've ever seen, people question those who are so skilled”. He grabs her in a hug she hits him but calms and hugs him back, he gets her back to her room and says “Take the day try not to stab anyone please you know I hate the paperwork”, she nods “I'll try”. 

She doesn't usually take off that much gear, ever, and seeing her body scars out and what just happened got her emotional and in her head, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping tonight. She put her gear back on grabbed her gun and went into the forest near the base and shit shot and got out of her head.

She comes back to base around midnight and runs into Ghost in the hall they just stop and stare at each other, not sure what move to make. Eventually, she moves and passes him, “I'm sorry”.The next thing he knows he's up against the wall knife, pressed against him. “I don't need pity”, he knows he should be quiet but still hes gotta make this clear. “I ain't got no pity for you I'm sorry we pushed you to have to do all that to make us see”. She know Konig will give her the nice answer but now she wanted the real one, “why why do people always pick me when sniffing out rats?” “It's happened before”, she nods, “your quiet sulk in the corner makes it easy for people to assume shit and put words in your mouth happens to me too and your good really fucking good, a lot of groups would want someone with your skill, and not everyone is capable of being a good double”, she nods taking it in, she lets him go and steps back and walks away,

They go on another mission and shit goes south badly the guys are stuck and she's not in a position to cover them, Konig tells her to get out don't let them find you too nightcore. They all know it's the smart move but then they hear a vulgar string of curses come through the line and she ends it by saying “You know I can't leave you bastard”. Konig curses and Price says “What's she doing”, “She won't leave men behind even if it means her life”, Ghost says “She's gotta know better right she's smart”, konig says “Yeah she's the best I've ever seen but being captured changed her, her old team left her and never looked back. I was on an unrelated mission when I found her and she vowed to be better and never leave a man behind”.Moments later they hear explosions and shots, fast ones like it's more than one shooter, Konig says “That's her”. A big blast goes off that rattles the ground and not long after the door to their holes is opened and there stands her heavily disguised figure. When they walk out they see she got them all by herself she got them, they are all wondering how it shouldn't be possible. She goes up hugs Konig then punches him and says “You really thought I'd fucking leave you, dumbass, I've dragged your big back ass through endless snow before and you think id leave you now, hell or high water Konig you know that.”

[passionwillow]

I need some angsty poly smut with deaconxlucaxpluszise!reader(afab) pretty please ❤️‍🔥🥰

Who am I to object?? 😩❤️ As a thick/curvy girl myself who has days I feel amazing and days I hate myself, this brought me much joy. DID NOT PROOF READ I just rolled with it.

“Do I look pretty today?”

The question was innocent enough. You stood in the bedroom studying the way the blue sundress fell over your plush thighs, running your hands over the fabric and scrutinizing the way it hugged your waist. The sunlight pouring in from the window accentuated everything you were looking at.

Usually, you were fairly confident. You usually loved your curves, the flair of your hips and your plush ass. You usually loved your thick thighs, the way they moved when you walked.

Today, you just felt- off. You felt gross, you felt nasty. You felt like all your curves were in the wrong places, like you were a huge, lumpy mess.

You didn’t hear Deacon get up from where he sat on the bed, still wrapped in a towel from his shower this morning. You just saw him appear behind you, arms winding around your middle as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Pretty? Baby, you look gorgeous in that little dress. I mean- I’d maybe prefer it was shorter, but..” he trailed off and smiled at you in the mirror, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “That’s just me.”

You leaned back into his embrace and smiled, the scent of his shampoo and body wash filling your nose as you shrugged. “I just don’t-.. See it. Not today.” He nodded in understanding and looked over his shoulder as footsteps approached, Luca entering the bedroom and smiling at the both of you. “Morning, guys. Everything alright?”

He wandered over and pressed a kiss to your cheek, large hand sliding into yours as the smell of salty water and fresh air invaded your space. You figured he’d been out surfing early this morning, it's usually where he disappeared to before you or Deacon woke up.

"Someone is feeling a little self conscious today." Deacon explained, looking back to you in the mirror and smiling as his hands moved to your waist, squeezing briefly. Luca frowned and laced his fingers with yours, squeezing and sharing a look with Deacon before leading you over to the bed. Deacon released his hold on you and followed, sitting beside Luca so you were standing in front of both men, your hands playing with the skirt of your dress as your toes curled in the plush carpet beneath you.

"Did something happen, to make you feel this way?" Luca questioned, his hands resting in his lap. You blushed at his concerned eyes, the way his brows furrowed in worry. Luca was always the most sensitive when it came to your feelings, taking it to heart whenever you were upset. Deacon was the type to roll with your feelings, offering a solid support and being a rock to lean against whenever you needed it. A perfect balance, in your opinion.

"No, no, nothing happened, I just.. I'm just having a bad day, y'know? I don't feel all that great about myself today, I feel a little.. Gross." You trailed off awkwardly and looking down at your nails, suddenly very interested in the chipped polish on your fingers. Luca frowned more and looked at Deacon who was perched on the edge of the bed, head cocked as he studied you. "Well, that just won't do to have you feeling that way." He said in that soft, husky voice that made you squirm.

Luca was quick to pick up his tone and smiled, looking at you and rooting you to the spot with that piercing blue eyes. “I agree, I don’t think we can have that today.” He echoed, and before you knew it Luca had stood and scooped you up, gently tossing you into the cream duvet and grinning at your squeak of surprise.

“I think we’ll just have to take the morning and show her how gorgeous we find her.. What do you think?” Deacon asked, crawling up beside you and lying on his side, hand already finding its way under your dress. “I think that sounds like a plan.” Luca purred, crawling up and sitting up on his knees, removing his hoodie and white muscle shirt in one go, letting the clothes fall to the floor as his eyes roamed over you, as if deciding which part to dig into first.

You loved being at their mercy. Laid out on the bed, resting against pillows and letting them have their way with you. Deacon and Luca loved having a pillow princess, and you loved playing the part.

Deacon’s touch was feather-light as his calloused fingers roamed up your thigh, playfully snapping the band of your panties and letting out a soft tsk. “I think these will have to go, hm?” He rasped in your ear, warm breath raising goosebumps over your skin. You bit your lip and nodded quickly; the wetness pooling between your legs had certainly already soaked them.

Luca slid his hands under the skirt and eagerly tugged them off, eyeing the baby blue fabric and the wet spot that gave you away. He smirked and tossed them to the floor, shaking his head as he moved between your legs. “We’ve barely touched you, and look. You’re soaked.” His voice was soft and teasing, a contrast to Deacon’s hungry brown eyes that were currently drinking up the sight of your cleavage.

“She’s just excited, aren’t you?” Deacon teased, gripping your inner thigh and pulling gently, guiding you to spread your legs for Luca. You obeyed without question, biting your lip as the cool air brushed your sensitive folds. You were aching for friction, anything to give you a release.

Luca pushed your skirt up around your waist and settled himself between your legs, eyeing the mess between your legs and chuckling. “Excited might be an understatement.. Christ, baby.” He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs and nipped every so often, making you squirm and whine for his mouth to move, move closer.

Deacon chuckled and kissed your throat, tugging your dress down to reveal your tits and cupping one in his large hand, fingers quick and nimble as he teased the peaked buds on your chest. “So needy, so wet, huh? But you look so goddamn beautiful when you want a cock in you.” He growled in your ear, each pinch and tug at your nipples making you whine and moan, sending shocks of pleasure right to your core. The sheets had to be soaked beneath you at all the teasing.

Luca's tongue finally, finally dipped between your folds, his hungry sounds making you blush as he lapped and suckled and drank up your juices like they were a delicacy. You moaned in relief and rolled your hips as he feasted on you, tongue rolling over your clit and making you curse. "Oh, fuck, Luca, right there-" you gasped out, eyes closed and head rolled back on the pillows. Deacon watched with dark eyes, smirking at the needy noises coming from your mouth as his hands continued to roam over your chest.

"You look so gorgeous right now, baby, look at you.." he rasped, kissing your cheek and letting his nose glide across your skin. "So needy for someone's mouth on your pretty little pussy, huh?" It never failed to turn you on how Deacon spoke. Sweet and soft words one moment, then the filthiest dirty talk the next. He knew you loved it.

Luca's mouth was making the most lewd noises from between your legs, lips sucking on your sensitive bud and pulling off before diving back in, tongue dipping inside you to draw more moans and cries from your lips. You were sweating at this point, panting and whimpering as he assaulted your sensitive folds. Deacon finally released his hold on your plush tits and moved his hand back to your thigh, kneading and giving the flesh a soft smack.

"Let her cum, Luca, I think she deserves it." He teased, and you whimpered pathetically, toes curling as Luca gave all his attention to your sensitive clit. The knot in your stomach was tightening, tightening, and you knew you were moments away from exploding.

Deacon read it on your face and moved his hand up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat in a gentle but firm hold, lips by your ear as he purred low and soft. "Cum for us, pretty baby. We got you, just let go. Let me hear those pretty little sounds."

Luca's tongue, the vice grip he had on your hips. Deacon's hand and voice holding you steady.. You came with a sobbing moan, back arching and toes curling in the sheet, fingers holding on for dear lift to the fabric beneath you. "Fuckfuckfuck! Yes!"

Deacon smiled and bit his lip as he watched you, his cock pressed to your side as he watched you unravel. Luca's tongue didn't stop until he'd lapped up all the juices you released, humming at the taste and pressing a little kiss to your clit before sitting up, chin wet and eyes shining. "You taste like heaven, baby girl."

You panted and tried to find your bearings, eyes closed and lips parted as Deacon gently pulled away from you, replacing Luca between your legs. You finally opened your eyes when you felt the bed shifting, and Luca gently guided you to sit up, taking a seat behind you so you could lay back against his chest between his legs.

You slumped into him with a hum, his strong arms holding you snug as Deacon removed his towel, tossing it with the growing pile of clothes. "Let's get that dress off, yeah?" Luca smiled and grabbed the bunched fabric, guiding it up your body and over your head, letting it drop to the floor.

Both men eyed your naked form with equal hunger and admiration. Luca ran his hand over your soft tummy and side, placing kisses along your shoulder and mumbling. "You are absolutely beautiful." he mumbled into your ear. Deacon hummed in agreement and ran his hands over your plush thighs, kneading the flesh and eyeing your body. "Like a fucking goddess."

You blushed at their words and squirmed, cheeks hot as you eyed Deacon and licked your lips. "I think I may need more convincing.." you teased, and both men laughed. "Happy to convince you all morning." Deacon purred, and grabbed your hips, pulling you down the bed to him in one smooth motion.

Deacon loved to surprise you with his strength at random times. He knew you were self conscious sometimes about him and Luca being able to pick you up, move you around, and he loved proving you wrong. He could man handle you for hours (and had, on multiple occasions, to your immense pleasure).

You gasped and laughed as you shifted on the bed, Luca moving to sit back on his heels, your head in his lap. "You've been such a good girl for us, yeah?" He looked down at you and grinned, brushing your hair back before moving his hands to your chest, Deacon letting his cock brush your soaked folds and nestled between them. "She certainly has." he murmured. You arched up into his hands and bit your lip, eyes still on his as you gasped at the thick head nudging your entrance.

Luca held your gaze as Deacon slid into you, your juices giving him all the lube he needed to sheath himself inside you. Your eyes rolled back in bliss at the fullness, the burning stretch.. You groaned shakily and clenched around him, Luca giving your nipples a harsh tug as he praised you. "Look at you, beautiful, taking that cock.. Such a good girl."

Deacon smirked and lifted on your legs, letting it rest on his shoulder as he wasted no time fucking you in. You cried out in surprise and reached up to Luca, holding one of his hands over your breasts and cursing as Deacon's cock kissed your cervix. "Fuckfuck- Fuck, baby, that's it.." Luca held you steady as the younger man pounded into you, his own grunts and groans mixing with yours.

"Beautiful baby.. So fucking beautiful." Deacon groaned out, his voice gruff and raspy as he watched you. Your head limp on Luca's stomach, back arching as you tried to fit him even deeper. Deacon was an expert at reading your body language, what you needed in the moment. He grabbed your hips and fucked into you rougher, smirking at the choked moans and cries you made.

"That what you wanted, baby? This pretty pussy is so hungry huh?" His voice wavered slightly, breathing growing hard as his own pleasure coarsed through him.

Luca watched you with dark eyes, sliding a hand over your tummy and pushing down, his own erection pressed against you. "Fuck, baby, you're taking him so deep. Can feel it in your cute little tummy."

You moaned clung to his arm as Deacon fucked you senseless, panting and whining as your walls fluttered around him, toes curling. "I'm gonna-.. Baby, I'm so close.." You pleaded, body shaking with the overwhelming pleasure you were wrapped in.

Deacon hummed and kept his harsh pace, cheeks flushed and chest moving rapidly as he panted. "Pretty baby wants to cum, huh? Do it. Cum for us, princess, let us see you fall apart."

His firm words went straight to your core. He knew you liked being told what to do, and he took advantage of it. Your walls clenched around him and your second orgasm rushed into you like a train. You cried out their names, both of these wonderful men who loved you, and Luca held you snug, sweet talking you through your high as Deacon fucked you through it, hips driving into you like a piston until his own orgasm hits

He came with the most delicious groan, grinding his cock into your soaked cunt until you were filled with him. He panted and leaned down over you, holding himself up with one arm as he caught his breath, eyes on your face as you trembled from the mind blowing ride. “Fuck, princess, I love you.” He whispered, and you forced your eyes open to look at him, cracking a grin and mumbling. “I love you too.. And you. I love you, Luca.”

Both men grinned at you, and Deacon gently slid out of you before laying down, Luca shifting to lay on your other side as your legs got feeling back into them. Both men showered you in kisses, Deacon nosing your cheek as Luca kissed your shoulder.

“I hope you realize we aren’t done yet.” Luca purred, hips rolling into your thigh as you let out a groan, your pussy already fluttering at the thought. Deacon grinned at your reaction, hand sliding to your thigh. “We promised all morning, didn’t we?”

You made a mental note to be self conscious just a little more often as you gave yourself over to them.

[theaceofarrows]

Imagine for a moment that instead of taking them back to when their parents were in high school. The pocket watch took Red and Chloe back to the day Bridget lost the rest of her family.

And listening to the screams and devastation...Red has a moment of thinking ...oh heck...this is it....THIS what pushed my mother over the edge to be 'heartless'...It wasn't JUST the prank, it was LOSING HER HEART, as she lost the REST of our family....

I know I say this a lot, but I can't imagine all the emotions that Red would be going through in that moment when she sees that.

Red is the type of person who jumps straight in when she needs to defend someone (like she did for young Bridget when the VKs showed up in Life Is Sweeter), but it wouldn't be surprising if she froze before she could do much. It wouldn't be a stretch if Red thought the watch had messed something up and was somehow making her see things because what she's seeing can't be real, can it?

Her father is the dead King of Hearts who was whispered to have been killed by her mother. The dead King of Hearts, whose name she doesn't even know because it's outlawed from being spoken and is a crime punishable by death. That can't be her father, can it?

She is an only child. She doesn't and has never had brothers or sisters. Her mother is tight-lipped about the time before Red was born, yes, but surely, she would have mentioned if she had other children before Red that she so clearly loved. Wouldn't she?

I have no doubt that after a few moments of the initial shock wearing off that Red WOULD run at the guards to stop them, but by then, despite Red kicking, punching, and tackling as many guards as she can, even with Chloe using her sword to help, they're two teenagers against dozens of trained men, it's too late.

The man that's apparently Red's father has been knocked unconscious, surrounded by the bodies of men he's killed or injured. Her young siblings kick and scream and cry for their parents, as they're being carried away, but no matter how hard they try, they can't win against grown men. All of this happens while her mother is being held back by multiple guards, screaming, demanding, and pleading for them to release her family. It's no use.

When Auradon's guards have left with her family and Red sees her mom on her knees, sobbing, and absolutely broken, for the first time, Red understands the grief that's followed her mother for sixteen years.

Chloe is having so much conflict. She's spent her whole life knowing exactly who the good guys are and who the bad guys are. So now why does she feel sick to her stomach after witnessing what Auradon, the good guys just did to the bad guys? After witnessing something that her parents supported?

And all of this is within just the first hour. Overall, this would be so much heavier for both Red and Chloe than just ending up at Merlin Academy.

Sorry if this doesn't make sense with the way I worded it. My wording keeps coming off like a pov, and that KoH part was 100% just my headcanon. I once again got carried away.

Thank you so much for the ask! I definitely had a lot of thoughts on this.

[shatcey]

Dark IF. Harry

Harry is a rather mysterious character at this event. In the first part of the event there is a story about him for 95k. If you couldn't reach it, @.kurishiri made a wonderful translation. And in the second part of this event, which will be released on the EN server in a year, there is a normal story with him. I made a summary if you don't have the patience to wait a year. Warning, I comment a lot.

I didn't expect him to be literally in every story. Not much, but still. And every time he appeared, it made my heart sting a bit, probably because I know too much about him.

And from the point of view of this knowledge, it's quite obvious that he is actually trying to help Kate.

He gave Kate information about Willy.

I'm a little surprised how different it sounds compared to JP. But maybe I just didn't understand right. In any case, it was a very serious hint. How does Harry know that "she's never been that type".

And it was he who found the evidence in Willy's premium ending.

And again, this background was created for Willy… Yes, it was created much earlier than this character, but still for him. There is a logic to this… It's fate.

He asked Ally to be nicer to her.

This is their role-playing. Don't judge people by your standards!

And in Jude's premium ending he literally brings Kate to Jude. Realizing that she will not find her happy ending otherwise… again.

He takes her exactly where she should be, because he knows where she shouldn't… I don't wanna think about how many different outcomes of that day he saw to figure that out. Really.

After this event, I began to like Harry much more than ever, and I'm a little sad that not many people like him. He's a good guy, and he has his charms. Yes, he's too ordinary, but… Argh… who am I kidding?.. this is the main problem.

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[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 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!