#but this was a good try honestly grade A acting all around
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bandomfandombeyond · 3 months ago
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just watched Love Lies Bleeding, the newest A24 film, I have so many thoughts,,,,,
the movie's language is very well developed, and the editing is primo. sound design was also spectacular. A+ production overall.
In a more official review, David Rooney of The Hollywood Reporter called it, "a lesbian neo-noir drenched in brooding nightscapes, violent crime, and more hardcore KStew cool than has ever been packaged in such a potent concentrate."
genuinely, I'd say it's Thelma & Louise meets The Sopranos, a true film, not just a movie. a film we didn't know we had been waiting for.
spoilers ahead!!
if you decide you might want to watch it based on this review, I'd say avoid or be mindful if you get squicked and/or triggered by excellently wrought gay sex scenes, off screen and after match depictions of domestic violence, on screen domestic violence, mouth gore (no really, MOUTH. GORE.), vomit, guns and gun violence, or a homophobe punching a bisexual after she punched him for putting his hands on her. There are also a few depictions of altered states of consciousness and reality, one displayed as active hallucinations which narratively imply that anabolic steroids (essentially testosterone shots) create violent people who don't think about the consequences of their actions and black-out rage to kill others, while ALSO implying that hallucinations and delusions lead people to violence,,, ,,, ,,, And the other is just... subtle enough for most of the film until. surprise! giantess unbirth fetish bait at the end!
if that still sounds like it might be intriguing to you, keep reading :p
this movie has Kristen Stewart doing her sad twitchy sewer rat queer vibe to great effect, breakout star Katy M. O'Brian playing a bodybuilding nomad whose individual character arc is somehow giving gender and hate crime depending on the lens applied, butch 4 futch (argue w/ ur mama, Jackie is a bisexual futch) and butch 4 femme (although 4 is doing a lot of heavy lifting in this one-way dynamic) and (not so) incidental mob intrigue
and as far as aesthetics: it's set at the tail end of the 80s, so we have a delightful mesh of Kristen Stewart's oily 90s twinkdyke and Katy O'Brian's oiled-up 80s femme bodybuilder. howevrrr,,,
I'm not sure how to feel positively about the bait and switch of there being two clearly defined villains (the murderous mob boss father and the sister's abusive husband) having a diversion into the land of "this pillow princess femme who wants romance and a connection with the only other queer person in town is suddenly also a villain". I can see the potential transphobic underlying themes implied by depicting a masculinely gender non-conforming bisexual woman over-dosing "steroids" (testosterone) and turning her into a violent, delusional person who is even in narrative called a "monster" and told never to contact her family again (a very trans moment), especially when juxtaposed with the soft, effeminate, poor cis femme of dubious, unreliable-narrator-proclaimed straightness being an ongoing/foreshadowed minor antagonist in the storyline who manipulates the situation and main character to her advantage, and gets killed for it, but ultimately doesn't exist to do more than create tension between, and be a threat to, the main characters' relationship and the story's plot.
BUT! I do think it was thematically appropriate to finally make the relationship between Jack & Lou equal as a bow to tie the story together.
I enjoyed the film, I enjoyed the composition, I was more riveted to the screen than my ADHD ass usually managed when vegging out on the couch. it's everything I want from a movie where everyone involved ends up worse as a person after meeting each other
I'm just looking at it now with my AP English critical consumption skills and wondering if, maybe, queer communities in general, and the trans & lesbian communities specifically, are not currently enjoying the solidarity-filled political climate that would allow this movie to avoid potentially coming across as, well, a bit unknowingly biphobic and transphobic, even as a queer film, what with one of our main characters being depicted as loving her girlfriend "despite" her having had sex with men, and especially when the main pair get their "happy ending" at the cost of another queer person's life.
Maybe in 30-40 years.
VERDICT: polyamory (and solidarity over self-interest) could have saved this movie's 2nd half for focusing on the real villain: the cops and cop-lovers who were using their power to get away with disenfranchising people with escalating violence and abuse.
If you've also watched Love Lies Bleeding, or you know more about the context around the film, or you just like talking about meta analysis, please let me know what you think!
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pomefioredove · 3 months ago
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could you write the overblot boys (+ lillia & adeuce) with a reader who is really naïve? like they aren’t dumb by any means (the opposite, actually, they are smart and get amazing grades) but they have a lot of trust in people and sometimes takes things too seriously/at face value (like they don’t understand sarcasm at all, respond to rhetorical questions, etc)
how do you guys keep coming up with the most specific relatable ideas 😭😭 finally, oblivious representation!!!
summary: naive/oblivious reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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for someone who's entire life is structured around decorum, Riddle is unexpectedly lenient with you
he's always had a certain weakness for cute things...
AHEM
he's seen your grades, and he knows you aren't incompetent or dim, you just...
...lack social finesse
fortunately, he says he's an expert at socializing!
...unfortunately, that's not true at all
if you're not careful, he'll have you talking like a sickly Victorian orphan by month two
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
but at least he's not Ace, who finds your naivete VERY entertaining
you and Deuce are a two-man circus to him
tricking you is so easy, it's almost not even fun
almost
he has, on three separate occasions, told you and Deuce that "gullible" is written on the ceiling, and all times, you both looked up
but it's all in good fun, of course
Sevens help anyone else who teases you about it, though. then it isn't so funny anymore
Ace and Deuce are just a little overprotective
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona hasn't said a word about it
not that he hasn't noticed
...not that he's trying not to embarrass you, either
he's just trying to see how long it'll take before you can tell when he's being sarcastic
it's just... entertaining
for someone as smart as you to hang onto his every word...
it's... a bit of a power trip for him
not that he's taking advantage of you for anything other than amusement, of course
besides, you'll need someone around to tell off the idiots who do try to pull the rug out from under you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
speaking of which...
if not for your friends' intervention, Azul would probably own your soul by now
he's not half as convincing as he thinks he is, but even then, you respond to everything he says in earnest
you actually believe the whole "nice guy" act
and, honestly...
well...
he likes the way you like him
you actually see him as a nice, smart, interesting person. you spend time with him without expecting anything in return
so, he gives up on trying to squeeze a deal out of you
...for now, at least, you're under his protection
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
someone get this poor man a day off
Jamil is tempted to put you and Kalim in a play pen together so he can take a nap
he just... doesn't understand you
he's seen your name in the hall after exams, he's heard the way the professors praise you, and yet you are almost painfully easy to manipulate
he could mold you like clay if he really wanted to
...unfortunately, he cares too much to do that
so, for now, he'll keep trying to trick you into tutoring Kalim so he can have the night off
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil is your number one protector
you're smart, you're competent, but you're way too easy to deceive
and knowing the boys at this school...
...of course, Vil has to keep you by his side at all times. he wouldn't trust half the students here with his laundry
he can't sit by and let you get taken advantage of
...not that he never teases you
he does, of course
your earnest responses are just so sweet to him, and you seem to genuinely enjoy complimenting him...
anyway
while Rook teaches you how to pick up on hints and cues, and Epel throws hands with anyone who even looks at you weird, Vil is busy pampering you half to death
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Idia's initial reaction is something along the lines of "well, at least I'm not that guy,"
(sorry)
but, really; he thinks he has it bad, and then you can't even read a room?
you're like total opposites; an overthinker and an underthinker
you're all... sweet and genuine and cutesy
and he's a lame weird loser...
he assumes that everyone else thinks the same; but then he starts hearing the things other people say about you...
...and the way you get treated when you don't understand a joke or pick up on a cue
maybe you're not so different, after all...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
unfortunately, it looks like you and Malleus are on the same page
one oblivious to social cues, the other awkward from years of isolation
communicating with anyone else is a minefield
but, of course, you have each other
the way you talk to each other is kind of adorable?
Malleus can be quite blunt when he doesn't mean to, though, for you, that's a blessing
but he's also aware that you're a little oblivious, compared to other humans, and he's quite accommodating
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Lilia is a little shit
he may act all innocent about it, but he knows very well what he's doing
your naivete was the first thing he noticed about you
he absolutely uses it to his advantage
you're just so easy to prank, how can he resist?
he also enjoys flirting with you
it goes right over your head every time, and it's just the cutest thing he's ever seen
he's trying to see how far he can push it before you realize he's being serious
times he's said "I want you" to your face: 2 and counting!
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bucks-babe · 6 months ago
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Change My Ways For You
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Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader
Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with
Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good
Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one
A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!
“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing. 
All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater. 
“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”
You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.” 
He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.
Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet. 
Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.
You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student. 
As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.
Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.
You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.
Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door. 
“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting. 
“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”
He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”
Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants. 
He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.
“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.
The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming. 
 Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.
“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.
“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.
Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes. 
“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.
She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”
He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!
The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself. 
Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder  why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.
“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.
“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”
There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”
As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.
Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.
He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.
The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour  late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?
“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”
“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.
“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second. 
Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.
So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.
Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.
You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull. 
“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.
“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.
Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.
“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.
“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”
“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.
“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”
Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”
“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”
You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”
The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.
“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.
“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off. 
“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.
Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”
The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.
Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”
How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.
“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was. 
You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”
“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.
“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”
Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall. 
He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.
You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.
Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.
You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.
Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed. 
Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”
You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.
“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”
The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.
You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.
“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you. 
He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom. 
He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.
You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”
Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.
“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”
You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.
The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.
He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him. 
Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.
As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.
 “C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face. 
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.
“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.
“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.
Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.
You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.
But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips. 
You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”
Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.
Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”
Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”
You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.
“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.
You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”
“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.
“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.
“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”
That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.
“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”
Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face. 
The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”
You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.
Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”
Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”
Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.
You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.
Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.
Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom. 
He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock. 
“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.
Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”
Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.
Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.
He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.
He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.
Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 
Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.
Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.
“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.
You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.
At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”
As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”
You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”
Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.
“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.” 
“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.
“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”
If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.” 
“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”
“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.
“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.
Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.
“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet. 
“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.
“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”
He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.
“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.
“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.
Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.
“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.
But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.
“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathy, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.
“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.
“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.
“What?” 
“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly. 
“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.
“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time. 
“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.
You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you. 
The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.
“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt. 
“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.
“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.
“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you. 
“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.
“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.
Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”
You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.
You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be. 
 The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.
His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.
Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”
Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”
Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”
You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”
You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”
He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.
“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”
Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak your sheets.” 
He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.
His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out before him, consumed by the pleasure he is giving you. 
“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.
When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.
“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”
A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”
Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you. 
Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.
Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.
“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.
A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. 
You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.
All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”
You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over the sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.
“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.
“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would. Top drawer. I got the good ones.”
You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to your nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”
Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”
Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on the bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”
Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”
“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.
“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were. 
Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.
“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.
“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.
“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.
Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.
You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.
“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.
“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.
“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.
You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”
That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”
He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words. 
“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed against him new. 
He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together. 
The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.” 
Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.
He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”
Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.
Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.” 
In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.
He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.
Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the high of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.
“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.
Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done. 
The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself. 
“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.
When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.
You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.
Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?
“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.
“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.
“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.
“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.
“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.
“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck. 
“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”
You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”
Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.
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giamee · 5 months ago
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!
... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now
àŒŠ*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men
àŒŠ*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀
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ᯓ ᥣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.
you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.
it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.
he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.
it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.
your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.
and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.
you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.
he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.
it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.
he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.
hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.
and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.
Ëšà­šà­§â‹†ïœĄËš ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!
ᯓ ᥣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.
you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.
and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!
if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.
he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.
you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.
once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.
Ëšà­šà­§â‹†ïœĄËš ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!
ᯓ ᥣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.
despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.
he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.
it'll help in the exam.
you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.
he'll be damned if you don't get an A.
Ëšà­šà­§â‹†ïœĄËš ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!
ᯓ ᥣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.
in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.
and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.
and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.
he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.
"it's ok to take a break, honey."
you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.
"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."
you shake your head.
"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"
he feels you nod against his chest.
"ok, then let's do that."
Ëšà­šà­§â‹†ïœĄËš ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!
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IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?
the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3
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yestrday · 8 months ago
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― YANDERE! GENSHIN ACADEMY AU. pt one | two | three | four | five
⇱ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno + ayato, baizhu, mika / gn! reader
introducing! from sumeru hails teyvat's brightest minds, and it's no surprise that many of the academu's smartest are true-blood sumerians. a lesser known fact is that these are less skilled in the workings of the heart, and therefore, a bit more unstable than the average lad.
warning! yandere, obsessive & possessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, master-pet dynamics, mentions of bullying, physical wounds
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— STOIC ACADEMIC TYPE. alhaitham | Ű§Ù„Ù‡ÙŠŰ«Ù…
[ “if you’re looking to get my help, i’d rather you just outright say it than dilly-dallying around.” ]
⇱ one of the geniuses in your second year, haitham is a no-nonsense type of guy that has that air of arrogance around him. he’s quite hard to approach, and he doesn’t care to socialize with any of your circles. he has, however, taken a liking to you, and will usually just drag you around whenever he feels like it.
⇱ expect forced study sessions with him in the library. he’s very keen on making sure your grades are in tip-top shape, even though you never asked him for help. it’s obvious that he takes a bit of sadistic pleasure when you ask him for his help. when you ask him on how to solve a problem, he stops whatever he’s reading and scrutinizes you with those stoic eyes, before a small and smug grin forms on his face. sometimes you’re not sure if he truly wants to help you or he just likes to hear you plead and beg.
⇱ kinda likes to see you screw up as well. seeing you excel (because he helped you, after all) is all nice and good, but he likes to see you fumble it every once in a while. sometimes you get a bit arrogant, refusing his help and insisting that you can do it by yourself, only for it to backfire in your face. when you run back to him with your begging and pleading, he puts on a show of being nonchalant about it. didn’t you say you were fine? so why bother him now, and especially in the middle of a good book?
⇱doesn’t hide the fact that he sort of treats you like a pet, with the way he drags you to and fro. his blunt everyday tone makes everyone feel like he’s looking down at them, but even more so with the way he talks to you. stay, he says when you start approaching him. sit, he tells you. whether you follow or not is up to you, and while he does love having an obedient pet, there is some fun to be found in keeping a bratty one.
⇱likes to see you rely on him. is it out of genuine care or because he sees you as a complete fool who can’t do anything on their own, time will tell, but he’s strangely insistent about you depending on him. he doesn’t make it very obvious, especially when he acts like he could give two shits about anything, but when you mention having troubles, he says things like “that is what you’re having trouble with?” without offering his help, you usually start nagging him for the answer.
⇱haitham isn’t one for praise but
 he does get a kick off you praising him. not because he’s starved for it (he’s had heaps of that ever since he showed his academic prowess) but because it felt just right. he does help you a lot, doesn’t he? taking the time out of his busy day to help you with whatever silly thing you need. the least you could do is thank him for it.
[ “honestly, you ought to be more grateful with how much i’m always helping you.” ]
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– PASSIONATE TYPE. kaveh | Ú©Ű§ÙˆÙ‡
[ “oh yeah, uh, i guess i did win that! do
 do you like it?” ]
⇱ your senior kaveh who’s been all over you ever since your first year. he’s a bit clingy with his touches, holding onto your arm while you walk and greeting you with hugs ever since the two of you got close. whenever the two of you see each other in the hallways, he immediately latches onto you and doesn’t let go. will drag you around while chatting your ear off.
⇱ often starts to show off when you’re around. he tries to be really nonchalant about it too, like casually trying to slip in his accomplishment in the middle of a conversation to make it seem like he’s not trying too hard. when you smile and compliment him, he starts to stutter and blush, losing the cool composure he tried to maintain just moments ago. the others tease him for being a senior who wants to impress his junior and he quickly denies it (“they’re just saying what they want!” he’d huff to you), but you can’t deny the red blush and the pleased smile on his face.
⇱ always trying to help other people out, even if he’s too busy. while he’ll drop everything he’s doing when you ask him a favor, he also doesn’t have the heart to say no to others. some days, he gets a bit disheveled by dismissal after helping out so many people at once. when he starts whining to you and he becomes even clingier, be understanding and let him. he’s had a rough day, after all.
⇱ everyone knows the shenanigans that occur around you in school and kaveh is no exception. so he’s made a bit paranoid every day, wondering when of your crazed suitors will snap and just kidnap you. he could just do it himself and not worry about being separated from you, but he thinks he’s above such things (true, but only without the proper motivation). to compensate for this, he spends every second with you like it’s his last.
⇱ did you just hold his hand?!? that must mean something, right?! he conveniently forgets that you’ve held hands with numerous other people in this academy, but you can’t blame the poor dude, he’s the type to overthink stuff like that. he’s gone over seemingly normal moments between you two countless times in his head, wondering if any of that meant something. at the back of his head, he knows he’s overreacting. but then he remembers when you gave him some papers and your fingers lingered for some seconds then he starts squealing in his pillow, absolutely deluded by his fantasies.
⇱ he’s not the jealous type
! really! he knows how kind and sweet you are. he knows that the praises you have for him are genuine and the way you look at him in admiration is all real. you’re not the type to fake those after all
! even so
 even so, you continue to look at others with that same look, and praise them with the same praise. it’s not that they don’t deserve it but
 is he not just good enough? to have your praises reserved for only him
 was he just not worthy of that?!
[ “did i
 did i do something wrong
? please, just talk to me, look at me!” ]
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— SASSY TYPE. tighnari | Ű§Ù„Ű·ŰșÙ†Ű±ÙŠ
[ “those idiots
 honestly, they could at least treat you with a little more care!” ]
⇱ straightforward and no-nonsense, tighnari is well-respected among his peers for being an academic with an honest personality. especially in a school where anything can just tip anyone off, tighnari does not care about who he has to offend to make them back off. as such, many suitors can’t just do their trickery to you whenever he’s watching, lest he call them out on the spot.
⇱ he’s very concerned about your wellbeing. he’s often warning you about the dangers of the men you surround yourself with. whether you believe him or not is up to you, but that won’t stop him from trying to prevent anything from happening to you. obviously, he can’t just say that someone’s killed someone— he doesn’t want to ruin your life like that— but he’s often cryptic, hoping that you’ll figure it out for yourself.
⇱ very naggy, though he nags like a disappointed mother rather than a caring one. you and cyno are often at the end of these rants when you two do something stupid (either together or as individuals), but it’s a sign that tighnari truly cares about you. he could care less whether haitham cut himself on one of his books, but when you do he’s immediately all over you and berating you for being stupid and careless.
⇱ becomes too smug whenever you show a preference for him. he loves feeling when you choose him over anyone else and the suitors stew in their anger when he shoots them a haughty grin. cyno often has to remind him that he’s being too much, but he knows how much tighnari delights in defeating the other harem members without even having to do anything. you chose him out of your own free will, and that says a lot more than having you forced to pick him.
⇱ being raised on botany and all its properties, tighnari’s almost an expert in all things plants and that includes their
 chemistry. it’s no surprise that he’s one of the suitors who are capable of concocting their little mixtures. when using it on other competitors, he’s not one to dirty his hands. he often has cyno slipping a thing or two in their drinks (or in special cases, an overly desparate kaveh). but when it comes to tampering with your drink? well, he reserves that special privilege for himself, all for the pleasure of watching the chemicals slowly affect you.
⇱ a smart guy, who knows that the way to your heart is not intimidating you into it but instead playing the nice and concerned friend. poor you, always being chased around by these unstable men. why have them who will only hurt you, when you can come to him, someone that you can trust? even if your vision is slipping away, your body becomes heavy
 you can trust him, no matter what~
[ “feeling sleepy already? dear me, your body is really fragile
 and cute â™Ș” ]
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— GUARD DOG TYPE. cyno | ÎșύωΜ 
[ “if they’re bothering you again, talk to me. i’ll be the one to handle it.” ]
⇱ serious cyno who amuses you with his corny jokes delivered with a stoic expression. despite looking so mature, being with cyno often gets you two into trouble that he didn’t foresee. it has something to do with that intimidating expression and the way he’s ready to fight anyone who nears him. people mistake him for challenging them to a fight, and more often than not you’re left watching cyno beat down opponents in self-defense.
⇱ when people aren’t busy trying to fight him, cyno’s always seen patrolling the campus halls as head of the security committee. you can tell who’s been caught by him before by the way they flinch and avoid his piercing gaze. even many of his admirers are a bit terrified of him, and all they can do is just watch him walk over to you and whisper in your ear. they think you’re in trouble, but in reality, he’s telling you to meet him at the same meeting spot because he wants to show you this rare genius invocation card he just bought.
⇱ no one in his friend group takes him seriously anymore, not when he’s busy challenging all of them to a tcg fight every get-together. they tend to get roped up into his antics, and you can see how boys really will just be boys as the four of them begin to one-up each other into petty competitions. and cyno’s always been the most competitive out of them.
⇱ cyno seems to have a habit of suddenly showing up moments before one of your suitors plans to do something. they might start to sneak into your lockers to steal something when they see cyno leaning casually against the wall with a knowing glint in his eye. or when one of them spikes your drink and cyno unhesitatingly takes your glass and dump it on the floor, without breaking eye contact with the suspect. the guard dog that you don’t know about.
⇱ part of the protective stalker group within your suitors who make sure to follow you from the shadows whenever he has free time. these stalkers are often chill with each other, nodding at each other in acknowledgment whenever they bump into each other in one of their stalking escapades. he keeps a close eye on you at all times, with your security purely his concern and nothing else.
⇱ indifferent to getting his hands bloody. he’s not unreasonable— he knows that he can’t kill someone just because he’s jealous or something like that. he can’t risk doing something that will have an impact on you. but justice has to be served, and when he sees someone hurt you or become a threat to your safety
 he just can’t help it. whether it’s mixing nari’s poison or simply giving them a cold, swift death, everything he does is because he loves you so.
[ “hush, there’s nothing to cry about. they’re gone, no one will hurt you. i have served you justice.” ]
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— SCHEMING TYPE. kamisato ayato | 焞里綟äșș
[ “oho? it pains me that you’re so wary of me, even after all these years!” ]
⇱ senior ayato who always has that gentle but calculating mask on, socializing with many people but never close to any of them. when people start realizing that you might have caught his interest, they have warned you about him and whatever shady motives he might harbor. but whenever he approached you, he was so kind and generous with his offerings
 not that you were fooled.
⇱ he’s always showering you with gifts whenever you’re together like he’s trying to flex his wealth. bump into him at the mall? he tells you to walk with him for a bit, but you leave with a luxury item you eyed for a few seconds. bundles you up in his scarf when you’re feeling chilly, however when you try to return it to him on the next day he just tells you to keep it so casually like the fabric doesn’t cost you your life savings.
⇱ when class isn’t keeping them both apart, thoma is always seen attending to ayato’s side. it’s not a secret that thoma can go to school because the kamisatos are funding his education, so no one really questions it. they do get a little bit suspicious whenever the two seem a little
 intimate, but in the end, who really cares?
⇱ you should really heed others’ warnings about ayato, because it’s clear that he’s a dangerous fellow. he seems to know everything about everyone. once, he had threatened your bullies off with a thinly veiled threat regarding their shady pasts. you don’t know how he got hold of such rare information, but it seems that he’s one of the many people at this school with an information network under their fingertips.
⇱ while he does view you with adoration, it’s clear with how he talks to you that he doesn’t view you as his equal. with the way he talks you down sometimes like he’s talking to a pet rather than a fellow student, you sometimes feel a bit
 demeaned. but when ayato tucks your hair behind your ear so tenderly, you have to second-guess your apprehensions.
⇱ the difference between you two is clear. he is the elite of the elite and you are
 you. and he takes advantage of this without guilt. it starts as off remarks, about how you wouldn’t survive a day in their society, then it transforms into something bigger. before you know it, he’s criticizing your clothes, your posture, your personality
 anything to nail in the fact that you. are. different. till you lose your pride and self-worth. till ayato makes sure that you won’t have the willpower to fight back once he begins his schemes.
[ “but i’m not lying, am i? you are different, and we can’t really do anything about that, can we?” ]
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— SUSPICIOUS TYPE. baizhu | ç™œæœŻ
[ “another trip to the nurse, i see
 if i didn’t know better, i would think you were here to see me.” ]
⇱ senior baizhu is head of the health committee and is often seen helping out at the nurse’s. his kind and gentle nature makes the sterile place feel a lot more comforting and he attends to each patient without complaint. but when you come over, the nurse remarks how baizhu seems a bit more stressed whenever he frets over you. you’re not quite sure
 after all, baizhu has always been so caring towards you and everyone else.
⇱ he’s sickly himself, so sometimes he has to rely on others for help. he does seem to ask you for help more so than the others, but you really shouldn’t mind. after all, he’s done so much for you! he’s prone to fainting, thankfully not that severe, but you have to catch him in your arms before he hits the floor. the way he thanks you and softly utters your name has you almost dropping him, and you swear there’s a cheeky grin on his face that’s gone a second after.
⇱ although his reputation is generally favorable, there are whispers that he and his family are involved in shady medical research. baizhu, when asked about these, will always only laugh and shake his head. ‘let them say what they want to say’, he would tell them. ‘what matters is that i’m capable of tending to them when they come to me for help.’ such thoughtful words often erase whatever doubts they have about baizhu and even make them guilty for even falsely accusing him.
⇱ but they’re right, though. they are a big pharmaceutical company, and every massive corporation has its shadows. a solo research that he’s been working on is in the area of immortality. in recent years, he’s been working on it with much more fervor now that he’s met you. back then, his goal for immortality was always directionless, only researching for the sake of curiosity. but now he has a clear goal: to spend eternity with you and for you.
⇱ he’s an expert businessman and your harem members are well aware of that. among them, he’s known to make many shady deals, especially since he’s so knowledgeable in
 drugs. he makes a lot of profit from this, but another clear advantage is his time with you. though these rich students could just buy their drugs literally anywhere, no one quite provides the safety of not being caught like baizhu.
⇱ 
 might make those deals because more often than not, they end up with you in the nurse’s office. whether bruised from the bullying of another suitor or disoriented from some sort of poison, you rush to the nurse before things get worse for you. you’re so smart, he’d praise you as he tends to the wounds. there is a pleasure in bandaging you up, knowing full well that he could easily dig his nails into the cuts and leave you more in need of his help.
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— ANXIOUS TYPE. mika schmidt 
[ “they’re very cool but i
 maybe i shouldn’t get too close
” ]
⇱ lil bro gets pushed around by the meaner people in his year and he doesn’t even question it. it’s just very easy to take advantage of him, with his eager-to-please personality and his notable ability to do almost anything exceptionally well. it takes him being adopted into the first-year harem group before the bullying dies down (mainly because most of the people there are well-known and powerful). he doesn’t quite understand how they could bond over a person (you) and was originally quite frightened at their almost fanatic worship of you.
⇱ no one would think he’s part of your harem, not with the way he desperately tries to avoid you. in fact, you could count the times you’ve talked to him on two hands. on all times he was a blushing and stuttering mess to the point that he was incoherent. xingqiu seemed to take a kick out of his embarrassment, while aether softly coaxed him into forming a full sentence in front of you. what stuck with you was how he refused to shake your hand, to which xingqiu bowled over laughing. 
⇱ when he got a little bit more comfortable with you, he was still shy albeit not much to the point that he wasn’t willing to offer you help. you’d often bump into each other while you’re on your errand, and he takes half the workload. most of the time, the two of you work in silence, with mika taking frequent glances at you. when you’re done, he says a meek ‘goodbye!’ and sprints off.
⇱ stalks you around school like a little creep, but thankfully not to the point where he follows you home. he’d peek from around a corner, watching you in the distance with wide eyes in admiration. you’re always so hardworking and excellent
 it’s no wonder you have so many admirers! he was almost caught by you a few times, but thankfully you’re none the wiser. his stalking is painfully obvious to the other harem members, but they think him harmless enough that they don’t pay him any mind.
⇱ things that you need the most are always miraculously appearing in your bag, locker, table, etc. when you had complained to thoma about not bringing your lunch, later that day you’d open your locker to find a freshly made lunchbox. when you grumble to yourself about running out of correction tape, a pack with the plastic still on appears on your table. you’re perplexed, albeit grateful. after all, this isn’t the first time some creepy shit has happened to you.
⇱ he really really wishes he’d work up the courage to talk to you face to face without having to be so nervous
 but he can’t help the jitters whenever you’re just in front of him! your voice has his ears ringing, your scent has him dizzy, and you’re just so, so cool that he feels so small compared to you! how could he ever talk to you like this
! maybe in the future, when mika would be more capable and dependable

[ “a–aah
 how could i talk to them! they’re too
!” ]
1K notes · View notes
bbydoll18xx · 2 months ago
Text
I’ve Got a Wand and a Rabbit (Part 2)
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You give Paige some guidance when it comes to self-pleasure.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Part 1
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.4k
Themes: mentions of sex, sex toys, and some ~self-pleasure~
A/N: hiii guys!!! I honestly cannot get over the love for part 1. That was probably one of my favorite things I’ve written since I’ve been here on tumblr, and I’m so glad you guys shared the love 💜😚
I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint!!
Here we go!!
~
“You shoulda seen the way she was blushing! I’ve never seen her act that way!” KK roars to the rest of UConn’s women’s basketball team, the girls leaning forward in extreme interest as KK recounts how Paige had turned into a bumbling mess in your presence the day prior. 
“God, KK, shut up. I did not,” Paige whines, her face growing warm with humiliation. 
“There she goes again,” Jana teases, and the girls erupt into another round of laughter. 
“Y’all suck,” Paige pouts, walking off the basketball court and heading towards the locker room for a much needed reprieve. 
The taunting had yet to stop since she had stepped foot in the sex shop a week prior. KK and Ice had hunted down valuable information that a certain someone had worked there, and they had forced Paige to come inside, knowing you were standing behind the counter.
Paiges’ thoughts drift back to that day, as they had nearly a million times the past week, and she muses over the way your hair had flowed over your shoulders and your lips glistened pink.
Her crush on you was unwavering, the same way the ocean waves continuously kissed the shoreline. 
And despite what nearly everyone had perceived about Paige Bueckers, she was absolutely terrified when it came to expressing her feelings. Especially about you. So she bottled them up, settling for watching you from afar with a hope that maybe she’d muster up the courage to talk to you.
That was until her teammates had made the decision to do so for her. 
She really couldn't be all that mad at them.
Her crush on you had started three years ago. The two of you had shared a fondness for studying in the same area of the library, where it was quiet and away from the loudness of your respective roommates. Paige’s grades had always been good, but the daily motivation of seeing you, tongue occasionally peaking out in concentration and your body nestled in large, comfy-looking sweatshirts had Paige securing her place on the Dean’s List semester after semester. 
And with everything Paige did, she completely lacked subtlety when it came to you, and it only took a few longing glances in your direction for Ice and KK to connect the dots. 
~
“Oh, c’mon you can’t be mad at me,” KK whines, running into the locker room after Paige. 
Paige rolls her eyes. “Well, you ain’t gotta put me on blast.” She sits on the bench, putting her head in her hands.
“You’re being way too dramatic. She offered to show you how to use the damn toy,” KK stresses, and Paige’s face goes pink again.
“Soo,” she drags out the word with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Just take her up on the offer and boom you can have sex and then live happily ever after!” 
Paige’s eyes widen as KK, in the midst of her rambling, doesn’t see Coach Geno walk in behind her. 
Based on the look on his face, he had definitely heard KK, and he clears his throat, causing KK to whip around, her hand flying over her mouth as she pieces the situation together.
“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath, sending a weak smile over to Geno, who just waves her away, a disgusted grimace on his face.
But as Geno rambles on about how the practice went, Paige’s thoughts drift back to the way you suggested to help her. 
Would you really want to? Paige was navigating something completely new, and it was stressing her the fuck out.
If only there was a way to get rid of the pent up anxiety.
~
On the other side of campus, you were having a similar dilemma. You had been trying to work out what had come over you yesterday when you had boldly and uncharacteristically offered to teach Paige Bueckers how to use a vibrator.
The interaction plays in your mind for the millionth time, and you slap a palm across your forehead in frustration.
“I am so fucking stupid,” you groan, catching the attention of your roommate who was working on a paper at the seat across from you at your most favorite spot in the library.
“What’d you do now?” She asks, and you divulge her in yesterday's interaction with Paige, and her eyes widen.
“Dude, you have been drooling over her for the past three years, and you’re telling me you’re not going to wife her up?” She asks in a hushed whisper.
“I think she was just being polite,” you sigh. “We exchanged numbers, but I’ve been too scared to do anything.”
Charlotte shakes her head in mock derision, “I raised you better than that.”
You sit there a moment, contemplating. 
“Fuck. Okay, I’m gonna do it.” 
Pulling out your phone, you pull up Paige’s contact information, your fingers shaking slightly as they ghost over the keypad. 
“Hi, still need some help? If not, no big deal. Just thought I couldn’t leave a pretty girl stranded,” you read out to Charlotte as you compose the text, and she claps loudly in approval.
“God I hope she doesn't think I'm some sort of sex addict,” you moan, looking at the delivered sign under the text. 
~
Back in the locker room, Paige nearly chokes on a swig of water as your text appears on her screen. Aubrey, who is sitting next to her, slaps her on the back a few times, before leaning over to take a good look at what was causing the reaction.
Aubrey hoots loudly as she reads the text and promptly snatches Paige’s phone out of her hands to show it to KK, who had proudly deemed herself the captain of yours and Paige’s ship.
“FINALLY!” KK yells, fist pumping the air with great enthusiasm, and the whole locker room erupts into laughter again. 
Paige rereads the text. And then again. Your words were flirty and sure, just as they had been yesterday, and Paige is once again reduced to a blushing, simpering mess. 
She looks around the room, eyes wide and a shy grin on her face. “What do I say?” And the girls erupt again.
“Tell her you wanna fu—” KK starts eagerly before Azzi, who was sitting next to the younger girl, covers her mouth with a sharp look on her face. KK moves Azzi’s hand away, pouting and muttering to herself about how she’s “just tryna help Paige get some pussy.”
With pink cheeks and a pounding heart, Paige composes a reply, hiding her phone from the curious eyes of her teammates, hoping it seemed way more confident than she felt. You had a strange effect on her, reducing her assured ways into a bumbling mess, teetering on the edge of falling into madness.
And it was just the beginning. 
After all, you had yet to even touch her. 
~
That night you stand in front of Paige’s door with a pounding heart, determined to keep up the facade you had attached to your being, and as she appears on the other side, it is cemented. 
There was just something about seeing a bashful Paige Bueckers that makes your confidence soar, and you send her a cheeky smile, reveling in her mannerisms.
Paige leads you into her bedroom, and you immediately spot the purple vibrator laying atop of the comforter. 
You break the ice. “So what’s stopping you from finishing?” You ask, looking her in the eyes.
An embarrassed chuckle leaves those pink lips, and she rubs a hand over the back of her neck. “I guess I just keep gettin’ distracted,” she mumbles, and you nod in understanding.
“I like to think about someone,” you say boldly and pointedly. “If you close your eyes and immerse yourself into a fantasy, it’s almost like they’re there with you.” 
You watch as she takes a deep breath, like she’s mentally preparing for what she says next.
“Can I try again? And you can walk me through it?” 
The air leaves your lungs, surprised by her suggestion, and you agree before any other thought could cross your mind. 
The situation was something out of a filthy romance book, and as Paige undresses down to her boxers and her sports bra, you thank every star you had wished on the last three years for letting this happen. 
Paige settles onto her pillows, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, and with shaky hands, grabs the vibrator.
“P,” you say softly, and her eyes fly back open, meeting yours. “Use your hands first. Tease yourself, and let the arousal build up,” you suggest kindly, and she nods, putting the toy back down.
She runs her hands across her toned stomach, causing your own to lurch with want. Her hair was sprawled out on the pillows, and her bottom lip was red and plump from biting it, and despite just getting started, she looked completely fucked out. 
You secretly hope the image never leaves your memory.
Paige continues to tease herself, her fingers delicately dancing across the fabric of her boxers, and a quiet moan leaves her mouth. Her eyes are still closed in concentration, and you wished you could peer into her thoughts, hoping you were the object of her most intimate fantasies. 
And as if she could read your thoughts, your name leaves her mouth in a broken whimper that has you wanting to jump her bones and connect that sinful mouth with yours.
She’s panting now. Her eyes open, those crystal clear baby blues pleading for more. The unspoken words spoken between the two of you bridged a formidable bond, and you know at that point that this would lead to a whole lot more than offering friendly tips on masterbation. 
“Need more,” she whispers, her lithe body squirming on the bed hinting at her growing arousal. 
“Okay, baby, now take the vibrator and start at your tits and run it down your stomach,” you instruct, your voice nearly trembling. 
The quiet buzz fills the room before it’s cut with Paige’s whimpers as she runs the toy over her now exposed breasts. The pointed, pink peaks of her nipples make your own strain against the lace of your bra, and you shift uncomfortably in the gaming chair you are sitting in. 
The toy gets dragged over her belly, going lower and lower until it grazes the waistband of her underwear, and with a frustrated sigh, she lifts her butt to rip off the offending fabric. 
And now she was laid out bare in front of you, occasionally peeking at you, making sure you were still watching. 
You could not look away, and your body subconsciously leans forward toward the blonde girl. 
She places the buzzing toy on her clit, her back arching off the bed in response, moaning in pleasure. Her hips jump, grinding against the vibrator, desperately seeking an orgasm that had been denied from her several times over the past week. 
“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” you whisper, enthralled with the display in front of you, and Paige opens her eyes once more at your praise, sending you a needy look and a pout. 
“Keep going,” you encourage, and she adjusts the vibration, a higher pitched buzz ringing through the small room. 
Paige’s skin glows with a subtle sheen of sweat and arousal that you want to meticulously lick, and her whimpers grow louder as she squirms, her eyes never leaving yours. 
“Fuck, gonna cum,” she groans, and you bite your lip, her noises effecting every fiber of your being. 
And with a loud moan, your name leaves her mouth, along with a long string of expletives, as her back arches off the comforter again. Her chest heaves as the orgasm rips through her, and her eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure.
Your gaze rakes over her, taking in the gorgeous woman laid out before you, watching as she slowly comes down from the high. 
“Oh my god,” Paige breathes heavily, suddenly feeling exposed and shy again. 
“That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you admit, your own cheeks flushed with arousal, and Paige’s eyes trail to your peaked nipples straining against the fabric of your shirt. 
“I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. And that was the best fuckin’ orgasm I have ever had,” she responds, putting her underwear back on, much to your displeasure. 
“Thank you,” she adds shyly.
You shrug, moving to sit next to her on the bed, you run your hand across the flesh of her thigh, goosebumps erupting in its wake.
And before you can even make your own move, Paige connects your lips in an impassioned kiss that adds fuel to the fire that was raging in your core. The kiss was messy with unrestrained want and need, swapping unsaid words that had been brewing in both of your heads over the last three years.
The two of you had unknowingly fallen in love with the thought of each other, and now, here you were, falling right into each other. 
And it wasn’t going to stop there. 
~
The next afternoon, you are back at work, your mind continuously going back to the delicious display of Paige’s naked body. You had been on the edge all day, dying to get home to rub one out. Or four, if you were being completely honest with yourself. 
Sitting in the back room in front of the fan, desperately needing a cool off, you hear the familiar jingle of the bell on the front door, alerting you that someone had entered the shop. You take a few deep breaths, trying to compose yourself. 
It was hard to be cordial when you were surrounded by sex toys.
You walk out of the back room, your eyes immediately trained on Paige who was now standing at the front counter with a huge smirk on her face. 
Blushing you walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers, the taste of her mouth sending your body up in flames once more.
“What’re you doing here?” You ask breathily.
Paige gestures towards the package she had set on the counter with a wide smile. “Figured I’d add to the collection. Wanted to buy something for your pleasure,” she adds casually.
Your belly lurches as your eyes land on the strap on, a deep purple and six inches of thick rubber.
“Fuck me,” you breathe, feeling yourself drip with excitement at the thought.
“Oh, I plan to,” Paige grins, and she pulls you in for another kiss.
Things were just getting started.
~
This was a blast to write!! Also I am obsessed with shy, blushy Paige
xoxo katy
~
You can now read part 3 here
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karasuno-planet · 5 months ago
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Hallo😆 how about some of the karasnuno boys when they have a crush headcanons?? If u don't wanna do multiple characters, that's ok!! I'd love kageyama headcanons!!
Karasuno boys having a crush HCs <3
includes: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Nishinoya, Daichi
a/n: YESSSS TY FOR THE REQUEST and here's some cutesy hcs to fluff u up !!
Kageyama Tobio:
he would avidly deny it but he is suuuuch a blusher, he just turns pink at the slightest things
acts totally cool, but everyone on the team notices his sets are faster when you're at a game
if you help him with his homework suddenly he seems locked in, until you look up at him and realize he's sneaking looks at you
even with your help his grades do not improve im sorry
totally checks you out with the full look up and down without realizing he's doing it
thinks he's really slick but the entire team knows about his crush
would try to smile at you but give you the creepy grimace by accident 😭
if you asked him to work out with you he would push himself wayyy too hard to impress you, probably gets yelled at by Ukai at the next practice
makes extreme effort to give compliments, gets coaching from his sister
GIFT GIVING- always little things like a drink from the vending machine
regardless of your skill or lack of skill at volleyball he would ask you to throw to him or hit his sets
"Why are you always looking at my hands?" swbfvouyqwrbefnh
Tsukishima Kei:
struggles to not just avoid you like the plague when he gets a crush
wants you to come to games but would never ask you, if you do show up he would play way harder
he's actually kinda good about being discreet about it, but yamaguchi definitely knows and encourages him to confess
always fiddling with a pen in his hand when he talks to you in class
"Do you think I should grow my hair a little longer?" "Why? Do you think y/n would like it??" "Shut up."
has a nervous compulsion to push up his glasses
makes playlists about you that he would only share after like yearsss of a relationship with you
low-key gives you sass and would love it if you reciprocated that. and that's def not the only thing he wants you to reciprocate.
if you were in his advanced classes he would kind of initiate an academic rivals thing, but if you weren't he would offer you help with your classes.
chat should I write a tsukki academic rival fic?? edit- the fic has been made <3 find it here!
Nishinoya Yu!
he's a bold mfer but a little shy when you give him any attention in return
would ask your favorite color just to show up at school the next day with this blond streak dyed whatever color you say
tanaka knows. he fs knows. and they avidly abuse the word rizz.
noya is a little embarrassed that he's a pervert when he has a serious crush 💀
makes nicknames for you
would ask you to come to games to watch him play, and smile at you when he made an impressive save
stands up really straight when you're around to make himself a little taller
goes absolutely crazy if you compliment him. happiest boy alive.
"You should call me Noya-Kun"
figures out what kind of music you listen to and then posts stories with it
will "jokingly" flirt with you
"wait, did that make you nervous..? If I didn't know better it might seem like you like me...!! oooooOoooooo"
Daichi Sawamura:
CLASSIC HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND
he's got that promposal planned
would love for you to come to games and would give you his jersey
is honestly shameless about having a crush, and if it went on for long enough without anything happening between you he might just casually confess
rubs the back of his neck when you talks to you
he kinda speaks quieter/softer when he's alone with you
keeps his crush kinda quiet but definitely tells people he's close with, this makes Asahi act particularly nervous around you because he's scared of giving you a bad impression!
is very protective of you but not in an obnoxious way
always offering to walk you home
typical movie-star smiles at you all the time
takes notice of you and compliments you really genuinely
"Did you do your makeup today? It looks great."
[masterlist]
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bigfootsboytoy · 2 years ago
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Part two of this story, where Robin discovers Steve’s type. A lot of people seemed interested in more, so here you go! 
The conversation doesn’t go quite the way Robin is expecting it. She’s fully prepared for Steve to launch into saying how confused he is because he’s feeling weird pants feelings for Eddie, but how does that work because he likes girls? She’s been mentally preparing herself for that exact discussion since she watched Eddie Munson call her best friend ‘Big Boy’ in the middle of committing grand theft auto. So when Steve starts talking, curled up on the gross linoleum tile of Family Video, she’s taken by surprise. She doesn’t even get the chance to answer his question before he’s throwing her prepared speech out the metaphorical window. 
“That’s stupid, you already told me that. Sharon Parker in the 5th grade, holding hands for Red Rover, blah blah blah, I know that. But like
Have you ever acted different around a girl, and then one day, you realize it’s because you like her? Like, you had a crush on a girl without even realizing it? Does that make any sense?” 
It takes Robin a second to reboot, but the second she manages, Steve throws her even further off track. 
“It’s just, Tommy H came by the other day, and he said some stuff that really has me thinking and-” 
Robin can’t stop herself. As soon as she hears a name other than Eddie Munson, she has a hand out covering Steve’s mouth. He gives her a look, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed. She valiantly ignores him because what he just said has her head spinning, and she needs to put a stop to it right now. 
“Steve. My best friend in the whole universe. I’m here for whatever you need and whatever you might be figuring out about yourself. You know I’m going to support you 100% no matter what happens but
Please. PLEASE tell me that you didn’t just discover you have a crush on TOMMY H! He isn’t even your type, Steve! He isn’t even in the ballpark of your type! He’s so far off it’s honestly kind of laughable and-” 
Now it’s Steve who puts a hand over her mouth. 
“Jesus, Robin! First of all, gross. I’m not into Tommy, okay? Never gonna happen, not in a million years. And second, what the hell do you mean ‘my type?’ What the hell would you know about my type?” 
Robin carefully removes his hand from her face and shakes her head. She has absolutely no clue where this conversation is going, but there’s still a chance it can work its way somewhere good. Somewhere Munson-related. And she owes it to Steve to listen to his crisis properly. 
“Nevermind, forget that. What happened with Tommy?” 
“Okay well, he came over, like I said. He was super wasted, and I guess he and Carol broke up? And he started talking about when we were friends, and how he always used to try and get closer to me. He said he almost asked me if I wanted to practice kissing once? And he talked about like, trying to touch me all the time, trying to make me laugh? Basically saying he had a crush on me, which was super weird.” 
Robin nodded, because really, she had no idea what to say to that. 
“And then he kissed me. Which was kind of gross because he tasted like whisky and he was being all sloppy, like he wanted to eat my face. But
” 
“But?” 
“It wasn’t as gross as I would have expected I guess.” 
“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” 
“I don’t! It just, wasn’t a totally horrible kiss okay? Only a little horrible.” 
Robin sighed and let her head tip back against the wall. 
“Okay, I’m not seeing your dilemma yet. Tommy liking you and kissing you is kind of weird sure, but it doesn’t change anything about you.” 
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a puff of air. He looked small in this bathroom, scared in a way that Robin hated. They had faced down monsters, torture, long shifts with Keith. A conversation with his best friend should never have Steve looking that afraid, ever. 
She reached out and took his hand in her, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“Hey, it’s okay Steve. Tell me what’s going on in that head.” 
“It’s just
Some of what Tommy said. About how he tried to get closer to me, to touch me and make me laugh and shit? I guess I realized that I’m doing that stuff. With somebody else. And if Tommy did it because he liked me then
” 
“You think it might mean you like this person. This
guy?” 
“Yeah. This guy.” 
There it was, the Eddie Munson of it all. Because Robin only knew of one guy that Steve spent his time with and would be trying to be touchy and close with. She had watched it happen with her own eyes, the way Steve would look for reasons to lean past Eddie, to put a hand on his shoulder, his back, once getting brave and putting a hand on his waist. She’d watched Eddie do the exact same things around Steve, too.
Part of her almost just comes out and tells Steve, that she knows who he’s talking about. Except he still looks unsure. He looks like he wants to throw up a little, and Robin has to fix that. 
“You know it’s okay right? For you to like this guy?” 
“I know. It’s just weird, to realize I might like him that way. Normally I can figure out when I’m into someone.” 
“Well, normally you aren’t friends with the people you’re into first. That makes it confusing.” 
“And I’m normally into people with boobies.” 
“That too.” 
Steve lets out a tiny laugh, and it makes Robin beam. Something about Steve is lighter now, like somethings been lifted off his chest, something that’s been there for a really long time without him knowing. She wants to tell him how much she’s loves him. How much she cares about him and supports him. She wants to tell him about all her research, and fully explain to him her findings when it comes to ‘his type.’ 
She wants to tell him that she knows the guy he likes is Eddie. That she thinks Eddie might like him too. 
The ‘ring for service’ bell ruins her chance at saying any of it. 
She and Steve both clamber off the floor, adjusting their vests before exiting the bathroom to greet whoever keeps ringing the stupid bell over and over again. Robin can’t decide if it’s the best luck in the world, or the worst, when it’s Eddie Munson himself standing at the counter. 
She leans towards best luck when she sees the way Steve’s cheeks go red.
A few people asked to be tagged if I did a part 2, so hopefully I do that right! I’ve got a few more parts planned, so if anybody else wants to be tagged let me know and I’ll do my best!
@kaiscove​ @wolfstarlights​  @awkwardgravity1​ @anonymousbandgirl​  @f1ct1onwh0re
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starry-bi-sky · 1 month ago
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Clone^2 - Separation Strikes
"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.
His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.
Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.
And it was summer; Damian starts today.
"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."
Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.
"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"
"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."
Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.
Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.
Danny just...
His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.
He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.
Not like he was.
Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.
He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.
Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.
His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.
(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)
Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"
He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.
Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.
He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.
Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."
"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.
Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?
He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."
Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"
Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.
And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.
His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."
Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"
That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"
Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.
"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."
Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.
"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."
Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"
#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpxdc fic#dpxdc ficlet#clone^2#clone danny fenton#MAN I LOVE THIS AU SM#clone danny#danny fenton is a clone#i lomv. them :((( SO MUCH. I'VE MISSED WRITING THEM. i had this idea since talking to purple-goo-writes abt clone danny last week#they mean everything to me. they are the brothers ever. so family coded. don't ask me about the timeline here it doesnt exist#its post-danny's hands getting permanently fucked up and thats it lol.#parent danny is great but 'big brother danny' is SO fucking fun to write. he's silly and goofy and annoying in the way only siblings are#smth about writing danny being so full of love and kindness and protective compassion. bleeding heart that he is. its like doing cocaine#chaotic danny is SO fun and silly but kIND danny is. holy shit its better than getting high. altho ive never been high so i can only guess#there's just smth addictive in writing him being affectionate and loving and caring. he's heartful and heart full.#he's sweet - not like sugar - but like caramel. fulfilling and chewy. a kindness that gets stuck in your teeth and melts on your tongue#he's such an annoying older brother. i love him#bal mithai is a type of pakistani dessert btw. since Nanda Parbat is based off the mountain nanga parbat which is in pakistan. i figured#that the food damian had in the league might've been pakistani-based. or at least heavily pakistani in orign. maybe. i just didn't wanna#look up 'arabic desserts' and pick the first one off the list. felt inauthentic that way alsdh#translations since you wont get it through google translate:#1. 'are you nervous beloved?' 2. 'no! I am not nervous!' 3. 'I'm not everyone' 4. 'let me go brother!'#while i dont usually use 'little brother' or 'brother' as terms of endearments between siblings. Jazz canonically calls Danny that and#i figured if i worded it in a way that sounded natural. it would sound less soul-crushingly cringy. look as someone wit THREE siblings.#i know exactly how siblings interact with one another. but this felt like a special exception. they don't say it often
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fatkish · 6 months ago
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Hi hi! I really love reading through all of your mha x inner child fanfics, theyve honestly helped a lot lol.
I was wondering if I could request Present Mic with (his) child reader after an unsuccessful suicide attempt? They attempted to go out by hanging but were saved at the last moment, so their throat is in complete pain. Just maybe some comfort and angst in his eccentric, silly ways, not wanting reader to hurt more but still hurting himself lol (but feel free to spin this however you want!).
(TRIGGER WARNING: Please note that the following contains sensitive content: attempts at suicide, self harm, mental abuse directed at oneself. Please be warned and don’t read if you are not in the right mindset to do so. This is a comfort fic aimed at comforting those who have dealt with or felt like this at one point)
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Present Mic x Child Reader: Perfect to Me
You had been born Quirkless. The media had a field day with the news of the Voice Hero: Present Mic’s own child being quirkless. It was hard enough to be quirkless, but when everyone knew your father had a strong quirk, it made things even harder. You were always compared to him by your peers and even some of your teachers. You got bullied relentlessly by other kids. No one wanted to be your friend and the teachers would turn a blind eye to it all.
The kids would say things like ‘I bet you’re actually adopted and Present Mic is just too much of a hero to get rid of you’ ‘your dad must be super embarrassed his kid is quirkless and a loser’ ‘if no one knew you were his kid then he’d probably get rid of you’ your dad’s a lame hero so it makes sense he’d keep a quirkless kid’. The other kids always said things about how your dad must be putting up an act and probably just sees you as a charity case.
The teachers were bad too. ‘I can’t even imagine having a quirkless child’ ‘imagine how it must be having a child like that’ ‘the poor man is probably so stressed all the time, worried about his kid’ ‘it must be so disappointing to find out your kid is quirkless’. The teachers would whisper about how it must be such a burden to raise a quirkless child. They spoke rumors about you being his illegitimate child and that he’s probably only kept you to make himself look good.
You never told Mic about anything anybody said. You knew he loved you, you’re his whole world
 right? After a few years of torment and bullying from other kids you started to doubt yourself and your father. You started to believe that you were just a burden on Mic and that he’s only putting up a loving act. He’s your dad, so of course he’s supposed to love you, plus he’s a hero, so how much of his love is really true and not just stuff he’s supposed to say. How do you know if your dad actually cares for you or only tells you this because he’s a good person and is just being nice?
Eventually in 5th grade when you were 11, you couldn’t take it anymore. You truly believed that your dad was only trying to make you feel better about being quirkless. You believed that you were a burden and that your dad would be better off without you to look after. One day, you decided to skip school and returned home after your dad left. You had been planning this for some time. You had grabbed an old 10ft phone charger cord and tied one end into a slipknot and tied the other to a wooden beam in the kitchen. You decided to write your dad a note before taking your life. You then stood up on a chair and slipped the cord around your neck before kicking away the chair.
Mic had been halfway on his way home from UA because he realized that he forgot some of his students English papers that he graded. He got a call from one of your few nice teachers who informed him that you weren’t at school. He had seen you leave this morning so he knows that you left, were you skipping school? Why? Guess he’ll ask you when he gets home. He pulled into the driveway and parked before exiting and locking his car. He unlocked his front door and entered the house, closing the door behind him before calling out your name.
“(Y/n)? You home? I’m not mad, I left some papers that I had graded on the kitchen table. C’mon, let’s have a talk, I’m sure you have a reason for skipping scho— Oh God NOOOOO!”
As Mic had walked from the living room, through the dining room and into the kitchen, he paused when his eyes took in the sight of your body nearly limp and hanging with a cord around your neck. The moment he saw it he ran to you and grabbed a knife to cut the cord. The moment he did, your limp body fell into his arms.
“Oh my god, my sweet baby, no. Please, (y/n) baby, please don’t be dead, please don’t die on me, Daddy’s here now, Daddy’s got you, come back to me baby” Present Mic cried as he cradled your body and dialed the emergency number for an Ambulance. While he stayed with you, he saw the note and grabbed it, when the paramedics arrived they got to work getting oxygen into you and had to stick a tube down your windpipe to get oxygen into your lungs. Mic rode in the Ambulance with them as he called Shota and let him know what was happening. Shota then told Nedzu what happened.
While you were being treated, Mic pulled the note out and read it.
Dear Dad,
I’m sorry that you had to find me like this. I know it’s a burden having to deal with and care for a quirkless child and that dealing with my death is just more of a burden. I’m sorry I’m quirkless, I know that you always say it’s okay but you don’t have to lie anymore. I know you must have been disappointed when I didn’t get a quirk and I’m so sorry. Thank you for taking such good care of me even though it must have been an immense burden. Thank you for being a kind and loving father even if it was just an act. I love you so much and I’m sorry that you had to endure living with me for so long. But that’s all over now so you can rest now. Thank you for everything and thank you for putting up with me. You’re my hero.
-Love,
(Y/n)
Hizashi had tears rolling down his cheeks when Shota got to the hospital and found him sitting in a hallway outside your door. When Shota took the note and read it, he too, shed some tears.
“W-why? Why didn’t they tell me Sho? Why didn’t they say anything? Do they really believe that I don’t love them? What did I do wrong?!?”
“Shh, I know Zash, I know. This isn’t on you, this isn’t your fault”
“My baby is dead?!? Sho! How am I- what am I gonna do, how am I supposed to deal with this?”
As Hizashi cried to Shota, one of the nurses exited your room.
“Excuse me, Mr. Yamada, your child is awake now. We’ve put them on the Suicide watch and a psychoanalytic will be visiting with them later to determine what caused this and what the best course of treatment for them is. You can go in now and see them” the nurse moved aside and motioned towards the door.
Hizashi immediately jumped to his feet and ran inside the room only to stop and stare at you. You had your head down and your hands in your lap as you sat in the hospital bed under the sheets wearing a hospital gown. Tears swelled in his eyes as he realized you were alive. Hearing and seeing the beats on the heart monitor was a relief to him. He ran over to you swallowing you up in his arms as he cried.
“Oh (y/n) my sweet baby, you’re alive, I was so scared don’t you ever do that again you hear me! I love you so much, I’m so happy you’re alive. No matter what anyone says or thinks, you’re perfect to me. Just the way you are. Quirk or no quirk, you will always be my sweet baby. I love you so much”
Hizashi cried as he hugged you and cradled you in his arms. He kept rubbing his forehead into your shoulder. You carefully removed his glasses and put them aside as you kissed his forehead.
“Dad I’m-“
“No no, shhh
 it’s okay, explanations can come later. If you don’t want to talk about it right now then we don’t have to, I’m just so grateful that you’re alive. Promise me you’ll talk to me before you ever do this again, please”
“I promise”
“Pinky promise”
You looked at the serious look and your dad’s face as he held his pinky finger out to you. You couldn’t help but smile at his silly antics and linked your pinky with his.
“I promise”
“Okay good.”
After that, Hizashi crawled into the bed with you as you sat on his lap and snuggled into his arms. Shota sat in the chair to the side and smiled at you.
The following week was filled with snuggles and eating junk food while watching movies. When you got home after the suicide watch ended, your dad surprised you by letting you go to UA with him and letting you do your homeschooling there. Nedzu decided that it would be best for you to be in an environment where you would be safe from bullying and what better environment than a school for heroes? You got to stay in the faculty room and did your homework, you got to eat lunch with your dad and he’d show you off to all his coworkers.
Needless to say you still had some doubts but therapy was helping. Your dad loves you and it’s obvious to you now just how much.
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kenyummy · 4 months ago
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MISTER TUTOR — YUKIMIYA KENYU
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[NSFW] SYNOPSIS : yukimiya kenyu is your tutor. by extension, he is also your favourite victim to tease. also by extension, you two always end up in the exact same way each and every tutoring session.
note : hi this is smut !!!! mostly pwp so heh. heh. theres a severe lack of kenyu fics on tumblr and everywhere honestly so i decided to be a good samaritan and do my part in adding to his slowly growing fic collection. i love love love kenyu hes my boyfriend forever and ever <333 also reposted from my wattpad which u should so check out btdubs
wc ;; 3.9k
Yukimiya isn't sure when, but eventually, tutoring you took up a huge portion of his life. First assigned for a homework task that you had not completed—his teacher made him tutor you on how to do it and exactly how to hand it in.
Then, his math teacher made him study with you, since you were falling so far behind. You and him spent hours studying together, but nothing ever worked. Either you got him too riled up to continue this session (which really, led into a session of something else), or you yourself were way too unfocused to even consider actually trying to learn from the boy in front of you.
Either way, you and he did not mesh well together, especially in a study-like area. In a library—you were far too loud. At home (either one of your houses)—he was practically asking you to feel him up, God forbid you two were left alone in the house, as well. Even at school, you kept finding yourself getting distracted by the multitude of people that pass by, and every little thing around you intrigued you more than your work ever did.
You never read your assigned novels, something which he couldn't understand. It was just reading, and yet, you acted like it was the hardest thing in the world to do? Whatever the reason was (perhaps you could simply not read), Yukimiya needed to find a strategy that worked for you.
As your (self-proclaimed) tutor, was it not his job to make it so you don't flunk every single test? He thought so.
So, he went through various strategies with you. Studying in timeslots—it didn't work, because when you took a break, you decided that you didn't feel like going back to doing boring old work. Cramming everything in at the last minute—this worked a little better, but was still a giant failure. Sure, it had you actually studying, but you forgot everything as soon as you walked into the test room since your mind had no time to actually process it all.
Whatever it was—it was like your entire being refused to study like it would kill you (from how badly your grades are dropping, he isn't sure that's the only thing that will). A vivid procrastinator, that's what you are. Still, Yukimiya Kenyu is nothing but determined. When he's set on something —you best believe he'll go out there and get it like a champ.
That's why he was sure that this study method—tailor made to fit you—would absolutely, undoubtedly work.
You were surprised when Yukimiya asked you if you wished to spend this week's weekend study session at his house. (He isn't dumb, in fact, he's the complete opposite—and he knows exactly where you two "studying" at a private place like home leads).
So why did Yukimiya ask this? Has he perhaps turned over to the dark side? The thought of that—and perhaps, at what's to come—makes your stomach twist in excitement.
The day came without so much of a hitch. You spent the last few days of the week lazing as usual—your mind couldn't leave the thought of this weekend's "study" sesh with your favourite boy alone.
You wondered this, even as you took a train and made your way to his house—you've been there so often that his address was practically branded into your brain—and you thought about all the things he'd make you do.
Your face flushes.
As soon as you ring the doorbell—you stand outside waiting for less than a minute—you catch sight of Yukimiya Kenyu himself. Clad in a flowy, white dress shirt, and baggy grey sweatpants—he looked deliciously domestic, and it made your heart race in your chest. Especially when he spares you that smile—that godawful, lady-killer smile that could knock somebody dead—you think you may faint on the spot.
"You're just on time. My parents are going out to see my grandma, so it'll just be me and you alone for a few hours. Should be more than enough time for substantial studying, no?"
Alone? Few hours? Come on, Yukki, you know me better than that.
Now, you were starting to grow suspicious at his deliberate choice of wording and his all-too-well grin. Yukimiya Kenyu... what are you planning? Are you actually planning on getting any work done? No, not really. But that doesn't mean you can't be suspicious of this pretty boy in front of you. A studious, straight-A nerd would surely not fall into his tempting desires without at least a little bit of prodding—which is exactly why you're so wary of this whole setup.
You're led to the familiar sight of his room, somewhere you've been countless times before, same as always. You make yourself comfortable on his bed and watch as he pulls in a second chair to sit at his desk. He sits down at the one he just brought in, and motions for you to take a seat beside him on the chair he had originally had on his room.
His smile is so guileless, you can hardly get a good read on what he's feeling. It almost makes you nervous. Still, you obey, and take a seat, watching silently as he pulls out a few binders and unclipped a piece of paper. A mock test.
Wow, already? He was making you go through a practice test based on the subjects you're learning in math at the moment. Well, this wasn't too surprising. Yukimiya usually went through these with you anyway, so he could get a feel for how much you know about the subject already.
He snuffles his chair closer, eyes gleaming behind lens, "We should spend today going over these questions. If that doesn't take much time, we can just spend the rest of the day chilling out."
Yeah, we all know what you mean by "chilling out".
You nod, back slumped into the chair behind you and you groan, "Ugh... that sounds boring at hell... Can't we do something more fun, Yukki?"
With a cheeky grin and a knowing glance at the bed behind you—you think you make your intentions abundantly clear. You're certain he knows what you mean—this is always how you get what you want, after all.
By now, he'd be pink-cheeked, or perhaps even sloppily making out with you already, but not this time. He keeps the same blank, air-headed expression that he's plastered on his face since this whole tutoring thing started. "No, not this time. I've thought of a way to help you remember the fornulas, actually. I'm sure this strategy will work."
You raise a brow, clearly suspicious of his judgement. He said that same thing the past three times, and you ended up failing said three tests. "Really?"
He nods, smiling, "Really. Let's just start, and I'll try to incorporate it as naturally as possible."
Strange choice of words—but you like to trust your Yukki, so you don't question it. You and him quickly flip to the first page, and it starts with a question on area for a shape you do not recognise—with all sorts of numerals and numbers that it already makes your head spin.
"Do you understand how to solve for x?" He asks, and you think it's easier to straight up say no, rather than lie and look stupid, so you shake your head. "Alright. I'll try to explain it the best I can."
He starts talking, but it's hard to focus when his big hand is taut on your bare thigh, rubbing up and down mindlessly on the skin. You didn't realise he'd come so close to you—he's practically pressed up against your side.
Whatever. You try not to think too much of it. You focus on the sound of his words and sort of figure out how to solve what they're asking, "So, to find x, first you have to use the measurements already given, and then times that?"
He nods, "Yes, but that's not the end. You then still have to find y and z."
You groan, running a hand through your hair and sighing loudly—showing off your exhaustion five minutes into the session, "Ugh... this is taking forever... is this shit seriously on the test?"
Yukki leans up and presses a peck to your forehead. It feels oddly romantic, it makes you blush, "I know it's long, but you'll get it. Just focus, alright? I promise you'll understand if you do."
You really hope his mystery study method actually works.
Yukki continues trying to explain the concepts and formulas on how to solve the shape on the paper—and you're trying, you really are, but his fingers inch up, further and further and it makes it really damn hard to concentrate.
(Curse him, and the stupid effect he has on you.)
His hand stops moving for a moment, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. His words finally stop sounding like a jumbled mess and more like actual teaching, "I get it! You just..."
You proceed to re-explain the concepts he brought up, and worked out the question on the paper with ease. Yukimiya grins, perfect pearly whites behind his teeth and he's clearly proud, "Good girl. You're actually listening to me this time. Let's move on to the next question."
An algebraic expression—so many letters, numbers and symbols and you don't know what half of them mean. Yukki takes one good look at your face and understands exactly what's going through your head—absolutely nothing.
He begins to explain the equation to you once more—his hand inches up even further. It has practically disappeared under your skirt.
Is he doing this on purpose? You can't help but wonder, heat crawling up your neck and your stomach feels tense with anticipation. Usually, you'd think he would be—but he's not even looking at you, completely and utterly focused on the question.
Maybe he doesn't even realise.
The thought makes your skin crawl, but you push down these feelings (and try to ignore the soft touch of his fingers on your inner thighs), attempting at solving the question.
He shakes his head, brown curls falling over his pretty eyes. "No, that's not how you do it. I'll show you."
He leans forward and takes the pen from your hand—fingers brushing over yours—and wastes on time in solving the question while explaining its properties and what steps you need to take. Yukki is a good teacher. He's smart, he's thorough, and he makes sure you understand everything before you two move on.
But you really, really, can't focus because his fingers are now right atop your clothed cunt, stroking softly—it's driving you mad—and languidly, like it didn't do anything to you.
You hiss through your teeth when his index finger brushes over your clit, "Yukki..."
He looks so genuinely confused you almost believe he does not realise what he's doing, "Hm? What? Do you not understand?"
You furrow your brows in an angry motion, "No, are you kidding? You... You're—" The words die in your mouth as soon as you catch sight of the glowing, very much teasing, smirk on his lips.
Fuck. He does know what he's doing. Fucking prick.
You swallow thickly when his fingertips press a little harder, "Is this seriously the strategy you were talking about?"
He still acts oblivious, despite the way he's unabashedly glowing with joy, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let's just get back to the question. Do you understand it?"
You suck up your pride and take the pen from his grasp—solving the question easily. Yukimiya places his free hand on your head and pats it as a reward—his fingers stop moving so you have time to recuperate your thoughts—but this process soon repeats itself through the next three questions.
You can hardly think straight—but, a thought passes over your mind that maybe if you finish this up as soon as possible—he will finally stop teasing.
You find yourself working as quickly as possible—the sight is enough to please him. Perhaps this strategy really was working. Yukimiya thinks he's struck gold.
You look just like a regular diligent student—well, as diligent as a student can get with a hand shiver with their skirt. You're solving these questions with minimal difficulty and you're actually showing your working out. He hasn't felt this proud since he brought his pet turtle to show and tell in seventh grade (you teased him relentlessly for weeks after that, but he took like like a champ out of love for his pet).
... But still.
Perhaps a part of Yukimiya is rather selfish. A little voice that would never speak unless he found himself caught in a situation like this with you speaks up inside his brain—which makes his eyes glaze over with a sultry gleam and a small, almost harmless thought appear in his head.
What if...
With his sudden movement, you jolt in your chair and  hands fly to his wrists, clutching it over the fabric of your skirt. "Y... Yukki—!!! W—What—"
His two middle fingers plunge deep into your cunt and immediately take up a relentless pace—your chest begins to heave as he consistently keeps pressing against that soft, squishy spot inside of you that makes your mind fog up.
There's no freaking way you can act like— The thought dies in your throat when the heel of his palm rubs against your clit and you bite back a small whine.
The small little clicking sound that is made each time he thrusts his fingers in and out is almost inaudible in your ears when he begins to speak, lips brushing against your ear, "Keep going, gorgeous. Don't let me stop you now. You're doing so good."
Your leg jitters against him when he smiles against your ear and he feels your cunt pulse.
Still, you pick up your shaky fingers and try to keep a steady grip of the pen—it's hard when all you want is to throw your head back on his shoulder and sit there all pretty for him—but you know better than to ignore Yukimiya Kenyu.
Despite his gleeful demeanor, he seems to take joy in asserting himself over you. You wondered if maybe he just had a sick kink.
Every time you came close to solving the question—he would press harder and harder, and every time you tried to lean back onto his shoulder, he would stop abruptly and ask you what you think you are doing.
You just could not win with Yukimiya Kenyu.
He's driving you crazy. Maybe this is how you make him feel on a daily basis—but you actually think you're going to go mental from this torture. Your handwriting had gotten noticeably messier and more shaky every time you tried to solve that question—even when you did, his pace was absolutely relentless. He did not let up.
"Yukki!" You whine out, cheeks all puffed like a cute little fish and you glare at him with so much anger he actually almost feels bad for a second. Almost.
He takes far too much enjoyment in something like this to feel any menial sense of guilt toward you. Besides, it's not like you didn't have this coming. Despite all this, he knows you will take whatever gives you graciously because you are absolutely enamored with him.
(He thinks that, with a small smile. It's okay for him to say that, right? It's not like it's not reciprocated.)
"Yes?" He responds, slowly, teasingly. He can feel your thigh start to shake as a sign of your impending orgasm, so he starts to slow his thrusts—the tantalizingly sluggish drag of his fingertips across your walls give you a little more than nothing.
You could scream in frustration. He grabs ahold of your thigh and tugs it over his left leg, so that you don't get a chance to close your thighs are his hand—it makes it all the more torturous.
Your words are breathy and heavy on your tongue, "Yukki... lemme... please let me—"
His thrusts speed up, and his thumb begins to rub hard circles on your clit. Your chest heaves with each breath and you start to moan sweetly into his ear. You throw your head back, onto his shoulder and grip onto your skirt—but this time he does not stop. In fact, he seems to go even faster.
You can practically envision the smug expression he must have on his face at this moment—his ego fed and arrogance through the roof. "What? You wanna cum?"
Mindlessly, and desperately, you nod. White-hot fire starts to churn in your lower belly and it spreads to the tips of your toes when he keeps rubbing harder. You're getting close, with your stomach twisting and heart beginning to beat in your ears.
"Y—Yeah... please..." Somehow, you manage right choke that out and whimper right into his ear.
Your thighs begin to shake. He does not stop. "You wanna feel good, gorgeous? Go ahead." He presses a soft, chaste kiss to your temple—an almost laughable contrast to how you're nearly brought to tears by your orgasm, lower half shaking and rutting up into his unrelenting touch with a sense of desperation.
He likes it when you're desperate. It makes you all the more cute.
He helps you ride out your pleasure, all with a pretty grin. Your babbling thanks and praises for his fingers soon die down when your post-orgasmic haze hits you, and you lean back into his touch with low breaths.
After a few minutes of him just holding you like this, hand placed lightly on your thigh—you look up at him, then down, then back up again. "You want me to help you out with that?"
He seems to be slightly taken aback by your bold offer—despite moments before, he sported a cocky smirk and sultry gaze—but manages to gather his composure quickly enough to answer.
He shakes his head and gazes at you kindly, "Oh, you don't have to. I still need to teach you some more formulas—"
Your brows furrow and your remove your leg from over his. "Yukki—don't be like that. Lemme take care of you, okay? Yeah..."
A smile falls upon your lips as his cheeks grow pink. Even when your duck down below his desk—it feels all so surreal. Even when you tug down his grey sweats that did not hide anything, it almost feels like a figment of his imagination.
It no longer does when he feels the fiery enclosure that is your lips wrap around the redden leaky tip of his cock. Yukimiya slaps a hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes taut shut. His heart is beating a million miles an hour in his chest. He feels like he cannot breathe, but the air gets knocked out his lungs all the same when your move your mouth down.
You use your hand to spread his pre around the base of him—jerking off what your mouth did not fit, until you go a little lower. He thinks his face may be on fire. The hand that does not cover the lower half of his face grips the edge of his table with full force.
He dares not to look down at you and dares not to catch the nasty, foxish gleam in your eyes.
You go down more, then back up. You press a chaste, loving kiss to the bulging tip, then, you go back down again. This time, a little further. You keep doing this until your jaw relaxes enough for your nose to press against the smooth skin of his abdomen—you allow your hands to wander his hard stomach.
"[name]..." His voice trails off shakily, a small moan escaping his lips as his hips jerk forward. You choke a little, but keep going. His glasses are growing foggy from his hot, heavy breaths and he doesn't think he's ever felt any hotter.
The room temperature must have shot up by at least twenty degrees. He feels searing.
Yukimiya's heart nearly beats out of his chest when you pull back once more, staring directly into his half-lidded, cloudy amber irises, and gave a sloppy kiss to the cute little freckle that was on the pulsing head of his dick.
His breathing picks up and his chest heaves. Fuck.
He groans aloud as your mouth sinks back down and your throat presses around his cock. His hips jerk forward again, and he takes this reaction as his opportunity to start thrusting. You suddenly sit still with your jaw as open as it would allow you to be—as Yukimiya lazily thrusts into your mouth.
His hand entangled itself into your hair and he grabs a tight hold of your head as he moves you to his heart's content. The wet choking noises that you make when your lips are snugly wrapped around the base of his cock give him butterflies.
He looks down at you, sweat beading on the side of his face and low grunts escaping his lips, "Ffffuck.... So... mmmm..."
He can hardly firm actual words—his head lolls back and his eyes shut in pure bliss.
Searing hot electricity zaps through his veins—his abdomen contracts, and it's a telltale sign he's getting closer. You use your tongue as much as possible while his thrusts are getting wild and erratic —his groans soon turn into desperate puffs of air.
"[name]...! Gonna..." His hot and heavy pants ring in your ears and his low groans are such a noise you'd never expect to come out of such a perfect pretty boy's mouth. He pants hard. "[name]...!! [name]...!!"
It seems your name is the only word he can formulate at the moment, when his cock twitches in your mouth and spurts of white shoot out the tip right into your throat.
He grabs your hair hard and presses you as close to his abdomen as you can get—hips shaky as you squeal and your throat instinctively tightens—the whine he lets out is something that will forever be imprinted into your memory.
You nearly cough it all up when he finally pulls out of your lips—breathing growing steady and shoulders relaxed into a calm posture—but you force yourself to swallow, and you give him the cutest smile you can possibly muster when you do.
Yukimiya stares down at you with hazy honeyed eyes filled with unbridled lust—hidden only behind the fogged up lens of his rounded glasses. "[name]... You..."
He looks embarrassed when you stick out your tongue at him and it is perfectly clean. He places a big hand on your head—a stark difference compared to his previous way of gripping your hair—he strokes it softly under his touch. "Good girl..."
He chuckles.
Yukimiya Kenyu looks absolutely debauched—you don't think you've ever seena prettier sight. His shirt is disheveled and his cheeks are a searing hot red. He is absolutely gorgeous.
That why, when you crawl up from your kneeling position, and he cradles your aching red knees when you place yourself flat on his lap, you kiss him with all the love you can muster. You do not feel much love—but all of the adoration you do feel is directed solely at Yukimiya.
"So, how did I do, Mister Tutor?" A teasing, coy smile places itself on your lips when you pull away, hand sneakily running itself all over his hard torso.
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The smile he beams at you is nothing less than radiant. "A+."
© ILIVERAEE 2024
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teddypickerry · 2 years ago
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Can you do a Jess Mariano blurb where the reader is helping Jess with his homework but he keeps trying to distract her by kissing her lips and neck? 😄 (think of the episode “teach me tonight” but with Jess and the reader dating and he’s kissing her like he kissed Rory in S3 EP10 when they’re walking and kissing)
𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 !
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pairing! jess mariano x gn reader
warnings! imply of sex (i think that’s it?)
word count! 833
a/n! took me forever ‘m sorry!!! this is also not my best work but back & writing for my boy is good enough for me. <3
the diner was quiet on the particular evening. despite the typical eight o'clock late dinner rush, the door were locked and a red 'closed' sign hung from the blue painted door. the only sound erupting throughout the small former hardware store was the sound of your voice reciting the words from the textbook balanced on your thighs. you were leaned back in your chair, your legs pressed against the table with the book pressed into them. your hair was falling in-front if your face which kept the attention of the boy who sat beside you everytime you pushed it behind your ear.  "and the trail of tears was what year?"
your head bopped up from its current slouched down position as your eyes caught glimpse of the dark haired boy sat beside you. he was leaned on the table, specifically over his book. his head rested on his palm as he held his head up from falling down in boredom.
"is your hair shorter? it looks shorter." your boyfriend was far from an idiot. but in this moment you honestly doubted him. jess was one of the smartest people you'd ever had the privilege of knowing. hell, he was way smarter than you. but here you were sat helping him with history... and geometry, and biology. it wasn't like you were the smartest person in school, but you got your fair share or a's. plus you knew how serious luke was about his nephew passing the twelfth grade. and you'd do anything to get your boyfriend on a good path.
"1828 and 1829." you explained to him simply before continuing onto the next page, him leaning closer to you. it wasn't hard for the smell of cheap cologne, cigarettes, and luke's laundry detergent to catch your attention. especially when you glanced up at your boyfriend's face far too close to your own. "i like it." he mumbled as he lightly pressed his finger to your face, pushing back the strand of hair that fell once more. no matter how long you'd been together, the small touches and glances still made you go mad. "you liked president andrew jackson's racist speech against the cherokee?"
"no," he rolled his eyes at your statement as you tried to diffuse the way he was making you feel on this tuesday evening. "your hair. it's a good length... and you know — i know all about good length."
his comment resulted in a laugh escaping your lips with a smirk growing on his face. jess felt accomplished for making you laugh, especially when you'd just spent half an hour explaining nonsense to him. "okay cmon, back to work." you ordered as he stayed in his exact position. you were about to scold him for not taking this study date seriously. but you lost time when his lips pressed to yours. your eyes immediately shut as your hands cupped his face. he deepened the kiss and leaned over the table to press into you even more. you found yourself getting lost in the kiss that warmed your soul. but before you could be taken by him, you pushed away and pressed your lips together. "jess, we're studying."
"okay we can study," he nodded as he positioned himself back on the chair and balanced a pencil between his fingers. which immediately caught your attention. "i'll start with the inside of your mouth and you can start with mine."
"jess," you hinted with a tone reaching annoyed. he let his smirk grow a bit before glancing around for a moment. "'mkay tell me more about the Indian Removal Act," he shrugged. you gave him a proud smile and muttered a "gladly" before opening the next page and reciting the next paragraph. you were only two and a half sentences in when you felt him move closer to you. and then some more... then some more.
it was when you finished the first paragraph that you felt his dark curls against your jaw as his lips connected with your neck. his arms wrapped around you as he continued to harass your neck with several kisses that would definitely leave a mark. something jess was certainly good at. "jess! we have to study!”
"no, i think you've got this stuff pretty much down." he mumbled as he pulled away for a second before you felt the feeling of his lips reaching your sweet spot. you held in a breath as you found yourself not fighting the feeling for a moment. "you need to learn this stuff if you're going to graduate, jess. please, work with me." you begged as he drew his face away slowly. just enough so that you could face one another. "and after, if you get a b... you might just get something starting with a b.”
the glow on the boy's face suddenly erupted with slightly wider eyes. he simply sat back as he sat his textbook in his lap, leaving only one arm behind your shoulders. "mkay, teach me tonight."
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shigarakisslutbag · 6 months ago
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Here are some "romance" tropes I feel would fit shigarakis love style if he were in a relationship or liked someone:
Grumpy and sunshine
Like actual grumpy/sunshine. Not bully x sunshine/sweet reader lol.
Idc what anyone says I firmly believe tomura would have a soft spot for his love interest. It would probably take a long time to build these sort of feelings, but once he does, he does his best to hide it
One: scared of ruining his reputation
Two: doesn't want any hero to use those feelings against him. This is a huge reason it takes him a while to admit any feelings to even himself, he doesn't one the one good thing he has, to disappear.
It kind of plays into the next one
Opposites attract
This isn't always the case of course. And in some aspects tomura would obviously want someone similar to him (hobbies, valuing alone time ((probably)), loyal, etc)
However
This sounds a bit cheesy lol but bare with me. You're like the one thing that keeps him afloat. He can't grow and mature if it's always raining (so to speak), so he needs "sunshine" to remind him that he has supporters. He needs someone to keep him in check and remind him of the things he has going for him when he can only see the cons of a situation.
The Wonderful thing about you, is that you don't just tolerate him, you actively want to see him succeed and want to help further his cause.
He'll fs act like your bubbly personality is inconvenient though, but if you have even a slight change in your attitude, he notices. And will ask you what's going on (in his own way lol. He's trying give him a break. If he didn't care he'd definitely just tell you to get over yourself)
Soul mates
Okay listen. Listennn. This may not sound very realistic at face value. But in a scenario in which you aren't affiliated with the league at all, he'd probably meet you out in public. Likely out to steal some new game or snack/drink he wanted (from a chain store ofc. If it's a chain it's free reign)
That said, he'd either see you on his walk there or in the actual store. Either way, he's burdened by some hero on their first job not knowing, well, how to do their job.
This hero in particular has some sort of "cupid"- like quirk.
Shigaraki, to his dismay, gets hit lol. No one could recognize him with a face mask and hoodie on though. But the first person he looked at was, you guessed it, you. You locked eyes with each other and he felt something he hadn't felt before. It made his stomach turn. He hated and loved it. Was it butterflies? Wasps?? Either way he feels like he just touched wet food in the sink but also wonders how he got so lucky to see eyes like yours- god, he hated being in public .
Tomura, after being hit, fell down from the force of what hit him. Literally fell for you. And you said something he'd never heard before. Something no one has ever really asked besides his mom
"are you okay?" And it's all down and uphill from there .
First love mixed with childhood friends trope
Last one, promise lol. Unless someone asks for a continuation.
I mention these two tropes mixed together, because honestly I see this as one of the most likely tropes. Tomura, as an adult has probably only a vague memory of you due to all the trauma. He blocked out quite a lot.
You were probably one of his closest friends. Granted, you two only knew each other for a brief time as you were both around 5 years old when the tragedy happened. You two probably met in elementary school if his parents sent him (elementary is not mandatory in Japan from what I read. They start first grade after they turn 6 is though). If it wasn't that, you two were likely neighbors or something. Regardless, you two were inseparable at the time.
As kids, you both had a pretty innocent view on how the world worked. Little you at one point may have even asked him why he scratches his face all the time. He'd say he doesn't know, but it feels worse when he's at home. Youre tiny little heart couldn't handle seeing the sad look on your friend's face. Almost immediately you took him to your bathroom and got the "tube with medicine stuffs" that your parents used when you got scratches to help itching or pain (which was probably calamine lotion or cortisone), and put some little bandaids on his face (he said the all might ones would make his father mad. That made you more sad, but you kept those feelings to yourself)
He'd even come back to your place when he felt itchy at home. One night though, you ran out of the topical treatment. You were both sad but went on about your time playing pretend and talking about whatever you two could think of. Time went by and he realized he wasnt itchy. Not with you. Never with you. From that moment forward he considered you his "bestest friend".
As an adult, he probably only memorized you from a feeling of loss, and missing something that he couldn't pinpoint why. This probably made him itch more. It wasn't until he had his transformation arc and his voice matured, that he realized what was making him itch so much. It was the loss of you. At least he doesn't itch anymore.
A/N: OP tries not the make themselves cry challenge (fails miserably). Anyways if there's any typos I apologize. It's 3 am and I wrote this out on a whim. Ikik I got too carried away writing, but oh well. Some of these I felt like writing a whole fic for tbh lol. That said, feel free to tell me what your favorite trope is and which one of these you loved the most:)
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sannasruins · 1 month ago
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you had a choice
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mark grayson x reader
type: angst, unrequited feelings, honestly idk
warnings: reader is the one with unrequited feelings, gn!reader but term "other girl" is used
a/n: i made the reader a bit more complicated in this fic, i honestly don't think they are wholly right in their approach, but are acting human and in a way i think many including myself might act. also i tried to keep to the cannon time line of season one but i haven't watched it in a few months and am basing it off the wiki so if there are any mistakes, don't at me
word count: 2.1k
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You had known Mark since the two of you were young children, with your mother being a famous superhero, she and omni-man often socialized. You would attend his birthday parties, go on play dates with him, and as the two of you got older, his house would become a refuge for you when yours was empty. The two of you would play Mario Kart and Wii Sports in his living room, ordering pizza and talking about the newest Seance Dog comic that was out.
You were there to watch him grow, and change from the Mark that you had known to the Mark that he is today. There when he had his first crush in middle school, and when your chest weirdly hurt when he told you about her, you assumed you were just jealous at the idea of him spending time with someone more than you, and that it was nothing else.
But, you became more aware of him, flushing red when he leaned in close to you to see what you were holding or to murmur a comment to you under his breath. Blushing when he complimented you on a high score in a game or congratulated you for getting a good grade on a hard test. You would try to look nice around him, wearing pretty clothes and using the expensive perfume you got for your birthday. You would laugh at every joke he made, even if they weren’t especially funny, and you always smiled when you saw him.
He never noticed all your efforts though, poor oblivious Mark.
As the two of you entered high school, you started to notice the way some other girls would look at Mark, they looked at him almost in the same way that you did. But you told yourself that they didn’t know him like you did, they were not justified in their longing gazes.
You were there for Mark, his only peer he could talk to as he struggled with his lack of powers and feelings of letting down his father. Nobody else could support him in the way that you could, and did. You understood his struggle, being the child of a super hero yourself, you had expected that one day you would have powers manifest, but they hadn’t come yet if they were going to come at all.
And you were there to celebrate when he did get his powers, jumping with joy, holding his hands and telling him how proud of him you were, and how you knew he was going to be such a great hero.
When mark met Amber, you felt something form in your stomach, it was hard and it was cold, and every time you saw him looking at her, you were made aware of its freezing presence inside of you.
When you found out that Mark had managed to get a study date with Amber, the thing in your stomach seemed to double in size, filling you with bitter iciness that you didn’t fully understand. You tried to dissuade him from the date, telling him that he doesn’t need to be worrying about dating when he just got his powers, he should be training and starting his hero reputation.
“Thank you for your advice,” he told you, “But I don’t really think you could even understand what you’re talking about, its not like you have powers to speak from experience.”
His words bit at you, and he saw the hurt on your face, and he immediately felt regret for his harsh words.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed running a hand through his dark locks, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that, I really like her, and you trying to dissuade me just isn’t cool with me.”
You nodded and apologized to him too, saying you’ll keep your opinion out of his choice of dates and dating.
You were there when he told you about the kiss he had shared with Amber in his bedroom, talking about how sweet and understanding she was, despite the fact that he had left her for over an hour on their date with no explanation to go save Mt. Rushmore.
You again felt the chill in your stomach spread, reaching up to wrap its way around your chest.
“That’s great Mark, I’m glad it went well.” You smiled and told him, but neither he nor really you noticed that your words weren’t truthful.
You watched as he grew closer to Amber, despite his erratic behavior with being a hero, and he would gush to you all the time about how it was going with her, and how much he liked her, and so on.
And as he went through the trials and tribulations of being both a boyfriend and a superhero, you found yourself, someone who used to spend hours upon hours with him, the person who was once closest to him, being pushed to the side, forgotten, and neglected.
He would cancel the plans the two of you had made to reschedule a date with Amber that he had missed or messed up.  
When Amber dumped him after Mark didn’t show up to volunteer at the community center because he was out saving the world and got severely injured. You were the one at his bedside, holding his hand and tearfully looking at your best friend’s bruised and battered face.
You were called by Debbie and told that he had woken up, you rushed to his side, relief flooding over you as your eyes met his, and you smiled at him and sat down on his hospital bed.
The first thing he asked you however, brought back the freezing pit that you had forgotten since he had been so badly injured.
“How’s Amber?”
Your face morphed from smile to something between shock and disgust, before you quickly fixed it back into a now forced and small smile.
“She said she dumped you for ghosting.” You answered his inquiry, not trying to sugar coat your words at all.
“What?” he asked, and his face fell.
“Mark,” you told him, your voice softening for the boy who you care so deeply for, for your best friend who you love and only want the best for, “I think maybe you should let it be. You can’t keep doing this where you’re dating someone who doesn’t understand that you have a greater purpose, and more important commitments than just them. You can’t date someone who doesn’t know that you’re Invincible.”
He looked at you angrily, “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t comment on my relationship anymore.”
“
yeah.” You responded quietly and left his hospital room. Watching him go through this off and on, riding the seas of emotional turmoil over some high school relationship, hurt you. You didn’t want to see him struggle or be sad, he was still your best friend, at least in your eyes.
Once Mark was able to, he went to Amber and begged for forgiveness, which she for some reason granted to him. And to top it off, he then went on a weekend trip to a see a college with his once again newly reinstated girlfriend and Willaim, leaving you behind because you didn’t want to watch the two of them being together all weekend. You just told Mark that you didn’t want to fifth wheel when he invited you.
You were there when he came for you after that weekend, in incredible emotional distress, and told you about the fight he had with Amber, and that she had broken up with him again. Worst of all, he told you that he had revealed to her that he was Invincible to try to get her to understand him, in a last-ditch effort to win her back. And still after having that closely held secret told to her, and still having her turn him away.
You sat by him as he poured his heart out to you with watery eyes. But as you watched him, you felt the frigid cold in your stomach and chest spread even further, up into your throat, out into your arms, and down your legs.
“I just don’t know what to do.” He said to you weepily, “I thought she would understand if I told her, if I explained everything to her. I thought it would be alright.”
You didn’t respond and just looked at him, you didn’t know what you were feeling but it was a foreign feeling that you have never had before while looking at Mark. You felt tired, and almost apathetic.  
“I don’t know Mark.”
He continued on, rambling about how he thought he could fix it, and now how he can’t think of anything to make things better.
He turned to you after you hadn’t said anything for a few minutes, the only sound in the room being your slow breathing and his occasional sniffle.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked
“I don’t know Mark,” you said once again.
And then you got up, and walked out of your bedroom, leaving a confused Mark Grayson behind you.
You knelt frozen in front of your tv as you and most of the world watched the fight between Omni-Man and Invincible destroyed Chicago. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as you watched your best friend and his father, a man you had been close to since childhood, fought, causing death and destruction through out their super powered path. You felt horror, and selfishly, feared for Mark’s life more than anything.
You were there, when Mark awoke at the GDA hospital, sleeping on top of your folded arms that lay on his bed as you sat by his side.
You had been there for days, sitting sometimes with others who would come see him, but most of the time it was just you and Debbie, watching his swollen sleeping face, and wishing for him to wake up.
Mark looked at you, and around the room, and then back to you, with bags under your closed eyes, messy hair and most likely days old clothes.
It suddenly clicked for him, that you alone had always been there. Since a time before he could fully recall, you had been there. And here you were once again, by his side. He began to weep. Feelings of gratefulness and adoration flooded him.
You awoke slowly to the quiet sounds of Mark crying, but once you realized what the sound you were heard as, you jumped to your feet and looked at Mark. Worry morphing your face.
“Are you in pain?” you asked, quickly looking over him, as if you could find the source of his tears and presumed pain, and make them stop.
Mark reached out and grabbed your hand, and your eyes drew to his face. He shook his head.
“No, I’m not,” then he winced when you sat on the bed, shifting its weight and causing him to also shift, and added, “well maybe a little sore but that’s not what’s wrong.”
You watched him expectantly, still holding his hand, waiting for him to go on, wanting to know what was going on and how you could help fix it.
“I
” he started and stopped, clearing his throat that was rough from its lack of use and nerves, “I think I am in love with you.”
Your blood ran cold. The freeze made itself known once more, settling deep inside of you, in a place you could never take it out. It took over torso, and quickly seeped into your limbs, before finally it made its way to your head.
You pulled your hand away from his.
“What?” you asked, and though it just one word, the question came out harsh and sharp.
“I just realized now,” he explained to you, “that you’re the one that’s always been here. You’re the one who understands me. You’re the one who I need in my life, the only one able.”
You frowned at him, “So, I’m the most convenient? The one who is content with being push to the side, so you can prioritize other things? Who already knows who you are, what you are, so you don’t have to explain to the next girl you date?”
“No no no,” he shook his head, looking desperate to get his point across, “that’s not what I mean at all.”
“Forget it Mark,” you told him, standing up from his bed and taking a step back. “You were too busy loving another girl to notice that I was there, loving you.”
He looked at you, distress showed on his damaged face.
“I didn’t know,” he half whispered dejectedly.
“I’m pretty sure it was obvious Mark, if you ever once looked my way and actually truly saw me, and the way that I looked at you.”
You sighed and shook your head.
“It’s too late Mark. You had a choice, and you chose wrong.”
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nova-is-a-writer-now · 2 months ago
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Hidden embers
Chapter 5
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Chapter summary: You and Joel have a much needed conversation to try and fix things, key word “try.”
A/N: Hi hellooo it’s hidden embers Wednesday (BETTER LATE THAN NEVER). Writing this story is genuinely bringing me so much joy, I’m glad you guys are enjoying reading it as much as i am enjoying creating this world. If you haven’t figured it out yet, this story is much more about the plot than it is about smut or fluff, so if that’s what you’re here for, you’re gonna have to be patient (it’s gonna be worth it i promise!!) Again, tysm for the support on this, the comments make me so so happy and motivate me to keep writing this, much appreciated đŸ€
Warnings: No outbreak AU, no use of y/n, no sarah, Age gap, DBF!Joel, Slow burn, a tiny bit of angst, Mean!Joel if you squint
Series masterlist
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You’re in a shit mood. Have been for a while, though you refuse to dig too deep to pinpoint when it started. It might’ve been around the time Joel kicked you out of his house, but honestly, it’s inconsequential.
The point is, your mood’s been sour for the past week, and this stupid boot you have to wear for your sprained ankle isn’t helping. What really pisses you off is the doctor saying that if you hadn’t walked on it, it’d be a grade 1 sprain instead of a grade 2.
‘Cause what the fuck does he know about why you refused that car ride home? What does he know about the churning, boiling anger twisting in your gut every time you hear the name Joel Miller? And then, to make it all worse, he had to recommend two weeks of bed rest so your ankle could heal properly and as fast as possible. Safe to say that doctor isn’t exactly on your list of favorite people right now.
On top of that, your mother’s been parading you around like a prized pony all week, forcing you to sit through those never-ending pageant meetings she insists on holding at the house. It’s like she’s playing the role of a doting, concerned mother in front of her friends, fussing over you as if you’re some fragile doll. Which is funny because you’ve told her on multiple occasions you’d rather stay in bed and rest your ankle than get dragged downstairs while on crutches, yet she insists on how rude it would be to not come greet the guests.
Thankfully, today’s a bit different. She’s gone out to scout venues for the pageant, leaving you in the care of your dad. Normally, you’d be relieved by that, but not today. Not when you overhear him on the phone inviting Joel over to watch the Cowboys game.
“Oh good, you’re up. Joel’s coming over,” your dad says with a grin as you make your way slowly towards the living room couch. “Figured we could all watch the game together. Like old times.”
You’re not a massive football fan, never have been, but watching the games with your dad was always something you enjoyed. It was your thing. Now, the thought of sharing that time with Joel makes your blood boil. Sure, he’s been doing this with your dad way longer than you have, but the last thing you need this week is Joel sitting next to you like nothing happened, like the astronaut-looking boot immobilizing your foot isn’t a constant reminder of why the injury got so bad in the first place. He might not be at fault for you walking all the way back home, but he’s certainly to blame for making you angry enough to do it.
The tightening knot in your chest isn’t just about what happened—though that certainly adds fuel to the fire—it’s about the mess of emotions you’ve been grappling with ever since. You’ve always prided yourself on being mature, on handling things with a level head and a clear mind. You’re the one who’s got it all together, the one people turn to when they need advice or a shoulder to lean on. But when it comes to Joel, all that goes out the window. You find yourself acting in a way you never have, even as a teenager.
You hate that you care this much, that his actions affect you so deeply, and that you can’t just brush it off like you do with everything else. You hate that what he is doing —the sudden coldness and firm boundaries— are probably the right thing for him to do. Hell, you even respect him for it, in a twisted way. He’s keeping a polite distance from his best friend's daughter, and it makes it that much more pathetic that it upsets you so much. His rejection, no matter how justified, still stings like a slap to the face, and the way he went about it, so abrupt and dismissive, only adds salt to the wound.
But it’s more than just anger at him. It’s anger at yourself, too. For feeling this way. For letting it get to you. For wanting something that you know you shouldn’t, something that feels wrong on so many levels. You can’t help but feel a creeping sense of shame, like you’re betraying the version of yourself that you’ve always tried to be—strong, independent, unshakeable. And yet, here you are, feeling small and foolish because of a man’s mixed signals.
You’re used to being in control of your emotions, but this? This is new, uncharted territory, and you don’t know how to navigate it without crashing and burning. So, you do the only thing you can think of: you shut down. You sweep all those feelings under the rug, acting like nothing happened and doing your absolute best to avoid Joel as much as possible. Because if you can’t be the strong, composed woman you’ve always tried to be, you can at least be the one in control of this situation, even if it’s just on the surface.
“I don’t know, Dad,” you start, trying to keep your voice casual. “I’m not really feeling up to it today. Maybe you two could just watch it without me?”
He gives you a look, that ‘puppy left on on the side of the road’ look he always uses to get you to do whatever he wants. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’ll be fun. Besides, you’ve been cooped up all week. You need a little excitement.”
Excitement is the opposite of what you need right now. Maybe a day of peace and quiet would fix every single issue in your life, but there’s no arguing with him, not when he’s already so excited about it. So, you force a smile and nod. “Alright, I’ll watch.”
But as soon as you hear Joel’s truck pull up in the driveway, that forced smile slips off your face. When he walks through the door, it takes every ounce of willpower not to roll your eyes. He’s all smiles, greeting your dad with a hearty handshake, but when his gaze lands on you, it’s different. There’s a flicker of something—concern, maybe something else—but you don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.
“Hey, kid,” he says, all casual-like, as if nothing ever happened.
“Joel,” you reply, your tone clipped, arms crossed as you turn back to the TV.
Your dad, oblivious as always, doesn’t notice the tension crackling in the air between you and Joel. He’s already settling into his recliner on your right, meaning Joel will have to sit to your left on the couch. You try to muster up the polite Southern girl your parents raised you to be, but your patience is thinning by the second, and you feel like a time bomb ticking away.
You do your best to ignore him. The game’s playing on the TV but your mind is far from focused on it. Your dad seems deep into it though, and for a second, you almost think Joel is, too. But then, out of nowhere, you feel his eyes on you.
“Didn’t think Presscott had it in him this season,” Joel says casually, trying to draw you in. His voice is low, familiar. He’s not even looking at you directly, just tossing the comment out there like he’s fishing for an easy reply.
You shrug without taking your eyes off the screen. “Guess we’ll see.”
The silence that follows isn’t comfortable, nothing like the ones you two have shared before. Even though you know you’re being short with him, you can’t stop yourself. It’s easier to keep things shallow, to avoid any real conversation, because if you let him in—if you let the words flow—the dam will break, and you’re not ready for that. Not here. Not with your dad in the room.
Joel doesn’t give up, though. “I remember last season your dad nearly threw the remote through the TV” he says, chuckling softly. “Thought he was gonna lose it when they botched that fourth-quarter drive.”
He’s trying to be light, trying to break the tension, but it grates on you. You force a laugh, but it’s hollow. “Yeah. Funny.”
You glance over at him, just briefly, and catch the way his brow furrows. It’s like he’s trying to gauge where you’re at, trying to figure out how to soften you up —the reason why he's so interested in doing so right now is beyond you. You can see the conflict there, the way he’s holding back—just like you are—but neither of you is willing to be the first to crack.
“How’s the um
” Joel starts again, voice softer now, “how’s the ankle? Healing alright?”
It’s such a simple question, but it feels like a loaded one. You swallow hard, the anger bubbling up in your chest. “Just peachy.” you say through gritted teeth, still not looking at him. “Let’s watch the game.”
Joel shifts beside you. You can feel him trying, can sense the struggle in him to connect in some way, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. Not after the week you’ve had, not after the way he’s been messing with your head.
He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you almost think he’s given up—until he tries again. “Look, I know we haven’t talked since—” he starts, but you cut him off with a sharp shake of your head.
“Drop it, Joel,” you mutter, so low your dad can’t hear. You still don’t meet his eyes. “Not now.”
Joel lets out a breath, and you feel the tension between you tighten, like a rope pulling tighter and tighter with every second that passes. He falls silent again, and for a while, the only sounds in the room are the commentators on the TV and your dad’s occasional cheers or groans at the game.
But it doesn’t feel over. The conversation, the tension, the unsaid words—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface, and you know it’s only a matter of time before something gives.
At halftime, your dad stands up to stretch his legs. You’re almost relieved when he breaks the silence, muttering something about his age. Joel laughs stiffly before replying with a quiet “Ditto.”
“I ran into Maryanne the other day, you know, the one from down the street. She was askin’ after you.” your dad says, grinning like it’s nothing. “Wanted to know if you ever got her message. You planning on callin’ her back?”
Joel hesitates, and you catch the slight shift in his posture from the corner of your eye. Your dad’s words hang in the air like a loaded gun, and suddenly, the room feels too small, too stifling.
Your stomach twists. Without thinking, you stand up abruptly, ignoring the sharp pang in your ankle as you do. “I need some air,” you mutter, voice clipped.
“Hey! Use the crutches kid, doctor said you still need ‘em.” Your dad calls after you.
“I’m fine dad, I’ll be out for just a second.” you don’t bother looking back as you make long strides towards the door.
You make it to the porch, the cool air doing little to calm the storm raging inside you. You lean against the railing, gripping it so hard your knuckles turn white. You’re furious—furious at him, at yourself, at this whole damn situation. How did you let it get this far? How did you let Joel Miller, of all people, get under your skin like this?
Minutes pass before you hear the door creak open behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is. You can feel his presence, heavy and familiar. He’s quiet as he steps out onto the porch, giving you a little space, like he knows better than to push his luck right now. You only hear him setting the crutches up against the railing, next to where you stand.
“You alright?” he asks, his voice rougher now, not as soft as it was earlier. There’s a wariness to it, like he’s testing the waters, unsure of how far he can go.
You don’t turn to look at him. “Let’s not do this.”
“Do what?”
“Acting like you care while I act like I don’t.”
He shifts behind you, and you can hear the hesitation in his breath before he responds. “I do.”
You huff out a bitter laugh. “Funny way of showing it.”
He doesn’t answer right away, and you hate how the silence stretches between you, filling the space with all the things you’re not saying. Finally, he steps closer, but not too close—just enough that you can feel his presence at your back.
“I’m sorry for last week. It wasn’t right, I was
 in a mood. Had nothing to do with you.” The lie is heavy on his lips, you can tell even though you haven’t known him long enough to figure out all his tells.
“Seems like it had a lot to do with me, couldn’t wait to get me out of there.” You’re being petty, you know. But he’s pushing you and you can only be patient for so long.
“Don't be like that
”
“So, how’s the whole gardening thing working out for you?” you press him, pumping the brattiness up a notch.
He stares at you, a glimmer of frustration rising in his eyes. “'Bout as well as ignoring doctor’s orders to rest your ankle, I’d imagine.”
You narrow your eyes at him, resisting the urge to snap back. “I’m doing just fine, thanks.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he mutters, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re real good at takin’ care of yourself.”
Your jaw tightens, but you keep your voice steady. “I don’t need someone to babysit me.”
“That what you think I’m doin’?” He steps a little closer, his voice dropping lower, almost challenging. “Babysittin’?”
You look away, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to hold. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Joel. One minute you’re... I don’t even know, and the next you’re pushing me away.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Maybe I’m just tryin’ to do the right thing.”
“By keeping me at arms length?” you ask, finally turning to look at him again. There’s a vulnerability in your voice that you hate, but it slips out anyway.
“By not makin’ things harder than they need to be,” he says, his tone softening slightly, though there’s still a hint of frustration there.
You sigh, the fight draining out of you. “Yeah, well, it’s clearly not working out great.”
The silence that follows is heavy, filled with all the things neither of you is willing to say. But there’s a shift in the air, a slight easing of the tension that’s been coiling between you both.
“Look,” he says after a moment, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to
 I just—”
“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever half-assed apology he’s about to offer. “We’re fine.”
He nods, though you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. “Yeah. We’re fine.”
You both stand there for a few more seconds, the conversation lingering in the air like smoke, not fully dissipating but not choking you either.
“Guess we should head back in,” you finally say, breaking the silence. Your voice is calmer now, the anger simmering down to a low burn.
“Yeah,” he agrees, stepping back to give you space. “We should.”
You turn to head inside—using your crutches this time— and for a brief moment, your shoulder brushes against his. The contact is brief, almost accidental, but it sends a jolt through you. Neither of you acknowledges it, but the feeling lingers as you walk back into the house.
As you settle back into the living room, there’s still an odd tension between you, something unspoken that neither of you wants to touch. The game is back on, and you both pretend to watch, but your thoughts are elsewhere, circling around everything that was just said—and everything that wasn’t.
It’s not perfect, and it’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s better than before. The air is clearer, if only slightly, and though the weird vibes linger, you both settle into a truce of sorts.
For now, it’ll have to be enough.
Tag list: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @untamedheart81 , @mellymbee , @wintersquirrel , @chyannealaniz , @spiderman-n-n, @ghostofzion , @sjc7542 , @yyiikes , @pedrofan
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404tytrack · 4 months ago
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after texting renjun and letting him know you were about to walk in, you take a second to breathe. you open the door after mentally preparing yourself for any confrontation and- wow he's cute.
seeing you walk in, renjun scrambles up to pull your chair out, almost tripping over himself.
"hi" his voice cracks, he tucks his hair behind his ear.
"hi" you say back as you take a seat. wow, he’s REALLY cute.
"i pulled up my portfolio so you could see what my work looks like" he clears his throat, opening his laptop, "i kinda already looked through your work when i saw you posted mark, you're really talented" a light blush spreads across his face.
you hum in acknowledgment, not hiding the prideful smile that spreads across your face. renjun spins his laptop around, and to say you're impressed would be an understatement.
"renjun...you are insane" you somehow manage to get out, even with your jaw gaping.
"did i do something? i'm sorry i didn't mean to offend you i-"
"no no! i mean just like wow...i'm not even mad you were being a dick before, i would be too if i had this kinda skill" you tell him honestly.
a sheepish smile makes its way onto renjun's face, "thank you"
"of course, i mean it." you say before taking a sip of the drink renjun ordered for you.
“okay so, i’ve been thinking about this all night” you blurt out before taking a bite of your cinnamon roll.
“since you appreciate earth’s natural beauty and i appreciate the people who make my life on earth beautiful,” you take a sip of your drink.
“and stay with me here now” you stare right into his soul as he nods rapidly.
“have you ever seen moana?”
there’s a beat of silence.
“no”
another beat of silence.
“WHAT” you basically yell, the cafe now directing its attention to your table.
renjun begins to cave into himself like an armadillo.
“it just never seemed like my kinda thing” you stare at him. rethinking life, love, happiness. how can one go without watching moana? is he happy with his life? there’s no way. he couldn't be. he hasn't seen moana. probably why he acted like an ass.
“do you have plans later?” you ask.
“no, why?” he asks back.
“get your stuff we are going to your dorm and watching moana now.” you declare, already getting your stuff together.
“wait i haven’t cleaned” he says, trying to catch up with you, “i don't care and neither does moana, speed it up.”
you leave the cafe with a mission and renjun leaves beyond bewildered.
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MUSE TO MUSE - moana crisis
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summary; in which the art and photography departments pair up students for a collaborative project, & you get renjun. the prompt: earth's beauty. with differing opinions on how to do the project, will you & renjun be able to work together & get a good grade?
notes; sorry this took so long i just got back from beach vacay, safe to say i am way more freckled than i was before
taglist (open); @haechansbbg @swee7dream @meemememeem @222brainrot @luvsjungmo  @starfilledgaze @222low @rakshithanotrao @nanaxwi @odxrilove @rksbae @slayhaechan @junviadinho @mystverse @nctrawberries @winwintea @flwrs4marklee @dalsosapple @jising-jisang-jisung @vantxx95 @tynlvr
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