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brunchable · 1 month ago

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Meet Me On a Midsummer's Night.

Pairings: beefy!Bucky x F!Reader [ pre-established rs ] Warning: MUTUAL PINING. FLUFF. BUCKY SMUG AND A TEASING MF. PDA. Summary: On a hot night, you can’t fall asleep thinking about this and that— you finally call Bucky. You didn’t know he'd come out to meet you but he did. A/N: I've been digging my playlist and I stumbled upon my old korean hip-hop playlist. It's summer here in Aus and the song is about meeting someone they like in the middle of the night and this is the product. I'll leave the song here, and if you know this song, you're awesome.

The ceiling fan creaked overhead, pushing the thick, summer air around your room without mercy. You kicked off your sheet for what felt like the hundredth time, staring at the faint glow of your phone on the nightstand. Midnight, it whispered, daring you to do something impulsive.

Your thumb hovered over Bucky’s name in your contacts, nerves coiling in your stomach. The sensible part of you begged you to stop. But the other part—the part that lingered on his laugh too long, memorized the exact shade of his smile—urged you forward.

Your thumb hovered over his name in your contacts for an embarrassing amount of time. You bit your lip, debating, until finally—finally—you pressed Call before you could change your mind.

It only rang once before his voice poured through the speaker, low and warm like honey.

“Hey.”

His voice was warm and a little raspy, like he hadn’t quite shaken off sleep. The sound wrapped around you, and your lips curled into a smile you were too glad he couldn’t see.

“Hey,” you whispered back, trying not to sound too breathless. “What’re you doing?”

“Not much. Just… chilling.” A faint rustle came through the line, like he’d sat up. “You?”

You pressed your palm to your forehead, silently berating yourself. What were you doing? What was this? And why did your heart feel like it was trying to climb out of your chest?

“I, um—can’t sleep,” you blurted before logic could catch up to your words. “It’s the heat. Thought maybe… you’d want to meet up?”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough that you bit your lip and cursed yourself for saying something so ridiculous. Then Bucky chuckled, low and warm, like he couldn’t quite believe you.

“It’s midnight,” he said, his tone teasing. But then, softer: “Sure.”

You blinked, your stomach flipping in a way that felt entirely too much for someone agreeing to meet you.

“Cool,” you said, trying for nonchalant.

“Cool,” he echoed. There was a pause, and you could almost picture the amused quirk of his lips. “Uh… so… we actually need a meeting place, if we’re doing this.”

“Oh, gosh, yeah,” you stammered, flustered. Your fingers curled into the sheets as you scrambled for an idea. “Um… your favorite bar? Death and Taxes? That’s still your favorite, right?”

He laughed, soft and deep, like he couldn’t help himself. “Still my favorite. Death and Taxes it is.”

You could almost picture him leaning back against the headboard, his lips quirking up at the corners.

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

“Yeah… see you.”

The call ended, and you pressed your phone against your chest like it could stop your heart from breaking free of your ribcage. For a moment, you just sat there, letting the giddy, reckless feeling take over. You stared at the ceiling, cheeks warm, a wild smile tugging at your lips.

Then you bolted out of bed.

Your closet door creaked open as you rifled through it, tossing rejected options onto the floor. Something light, something comfortable—it wasn’t like this was a date. But still, you didn’t want to look like you’d just rolled out of bed, even though you absolutely had. You finally settled on a loose, flowy top and shorts, tying your hair back with a lazy knot and slipping on your sandals.

The walk to the bar felt longer than it should have, every step only adding to the fluttery mess in your stomach. It wasn’t nerves, exactly—okay, maybe it was nerves. It had been so long since you’d seen him. Long enough that you weren’t entirely sure if you’d even recognize him.

He wasn’t big on social media, wasn’t one for selfies or tagged pictures. Sure, you had the version of him burned into your memory—the sharp jawline, piercing eyes, the way he always looked like he belonged in a leather jacket, even if he wasn’t wearing one. But people changed. What if he’d changed? What if he walked up, and you had to pretend to place him? The thought made your cheeks flush with secondhand embarrassment.

You arrived first, of course. The bar was quiet at this hour, the neon sign glowing faintly against the brick wall, casting soft red and blue hues onto the sidewalk. You stood just outside, rocking slightly on your heels, the night’s heat sticking to your skin. The air buzzed with crickets and the faint hum of cars in the distance, but all you could focus on was the wild beat of your heart.

Would he even look the same? Would it be weird? Would he—

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name cut through your thoughts, and you turned on instinct.

The world slowed.

It wasn’t just a turn. It was a pivot, a gasp caught in your throat as your eyes found him. And oh. Oh, Bucky.

He stood a few feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of dark jeans that fit him almost criminally well. The kind of fit that made your brain short-circuit. His shirt was simple, black, stretched over broad shoulders that practically dared you to look away. His long hair, slightly tousled, caught the faint glow of the neon light, framing his face like he’d just stepped out of a movie poster. And that face. God, that face. The sharp lines of his jaw softened only by the faint stubble that made him look rugged in the most devastating way.

Tall, solid, impossibly handsome—this wasn’t the boy you’d known. This was… something else entirely.

“Hey,” he said, his voice lower, richer than you remembered, like he’d spent the years perfecting it. His lips curled into a small, almost shy smile, but his eyes—blue and bright—were locked on you, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

You stood frozen, blinking up at him, every coherent thought scattering like confetti. It felt like the kind of moment people wrote songs about, the kind where the summer air turned into something magical just because he was in it.

“Bucky,” you managed, your voice embarrassingly breathy. “You… you’re here.”

“I am,” he said, his smile widening slightly. He stepped closer, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating off him even from a foot away. “You… okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Sorry,” you blurted, gripping the strap of your bag tighter. “It’s just… it’s been a while. And you—” You gestured vaguely at him, your face hot. “You’re… you look…”

His brows lifted, his grin turning into something teasing. “I look…?”

Like a Greek god. Like a walking, talking fever dream. Like you’ve ruined every other man for me.

“Good,” you finished lamely, your voice pitching up slightly at the end. “You look good.”

His chuckle was soft, but it wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you caught the way his gaze swept over you. Not hurried, not lazy—just deliberate enough to make your skin tingle.

“So do you,” he said, his tone casual, but the way he said it—low, like it was just for you—sent your heart tumbling into your stomach. “Better than good, actually.”

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy as you tried to deflect. “What, like you expected me to show up in pajamas?”

He shrugged, that teasing smile still playing on his lips. “Wouldn’t have minded. You could probably pull them off.”

It was impossible to tell if he was joking. It was even more impossible to figure out why your brain was suddenly turning into melted butter.

“Anyway,” he said, glancing toward the bar before looking back at you. “Shall we?”

“Y-Yes, let’s go.” you replied, your voice steadier now, though your pulse was still racing.

He smiled again, the kind of smile that felt like a secret, like you were the only one who got to see it. Then he stepped aside, motioning toward the door.

“After you.”

You hesitated, glancing at him, then the bar. The thought hit you suddenly, startling and unshakable.

You hadn’t seen him in years, but in this moment—on this hot summer night—it felt like no time had passed at all.

× × × ×

The corner booth of Death and Taxes was quieter, tucked away from the hum of late-night laughter and clinking glasses. It wasn’t completely silent—the bar was alive in that effortless, summery way, the air buzzing with heat and conversation—but it was as close as you’d get. You slid into the seat first, leaving him no choice but to take the one directly across from you, where the glow of the dim light caught your face just right.

Not that he was looking too hard or anything.

Except he absolutely was.

“Two cold ones,” you told the waitress, already glancing at him for confirmation. Bucky raised a brow, smirking. “You remembered.”

“Of course,” you said simply, shrugging like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing. It was a beer at midnight in a corner booth with you. And he was about two seconds away from grinning like an idiot over it.

When the beers came, you both dove into the fries first—crispy, golden, hot—and he realized he’d missed this. You weren’t in a rush, just talking, the way you always had. The kind of easy, back-and-forth rhythm that made him feel like no time had passed.

“It’s been a long time,” he said, taking a sip of his drink before leaning back in his seat. “How’ve you been?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully, your lips curving into a small smile. “Oh, you know. I haven’t really changed much. Still working hard.”

Your voice was light, but it made his chest ache anyway. He knew that look, the way you brushed off the weight of your own life like it wasn’t worth mentioning.

“I’m the same. Still working hard,” he replied. His eyes lingered on you for a beat too long before he asked, “You still dating that same guy?”

He shouldn’t have asked. He knew it the second the words left his mouth. But curiosity—or something else entirely—had gotten the better of him.

“Oh. Um, no.” You busied yourself with your beer, the glass cool against your hand. “We broke up.”

His heart gave a little kick, though he tried not to show it. “You guys broke up? Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He reached for a fry, half-smiling. “It’s good to see you anyway.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly, looking up at him again. There was something unreadable in your gaze, something he wanted to spend the rest of the night deciphering. “It was a while back. But it’s good to see you too.”

God, stop looking at me like that.

He leaned forward, his elbow on the table, watching the way your fingers idly traced the condensation on your glass. “Time goes by so fast, huh?” he mused. “We’ve already come all this way, but how come you haven’t changed at all?”

You raised a brow at him, playful but curious.

You tilted your head at him, your brow arching slightly, the corners of your mouth quirking.

“You’re still pretty,” he added, and though he chuckled, his words landed softer than he expected. Half-joking, yeah, but the truth was so clear it hurt.

Your reaction wasn’t what he expected. You looked down, your fingers brushing the rim of your glass as a quiet laugh escaped you.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said lightly, waving him off before quickly changing the subject. “So, what about you? Been up to anything exciting?”

Why are you changing the subject? The thought rolled through his mind, unbidden but persistent. His eyes lingered on your face, the way you avoided his gaze with that bashful smile. Is it because of the alcohol or because you’re shy?

He shifted in his seat, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned forward. “What, you don’t want me getting sentimental on you?”

Your laugh bubbled up again, the sound warm and easy, but you didn’t answer.

Yeah, he thought, watching the way you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, your cheeks just a shade warmer than before. It’s because you’re shy.

And god help him, it only made him want to say more.

Bucky took another long sip of his beer, the cool bitterness doing little to distract him from the way your smile lingered in his mind, soft and teasing. The overhead lights cast a warm glow on your skin, and he could see the faint sheen of summer heat clinging to your collarbones. You were leaning forward slightly, your chin propped on your hand, completely at ease—or so it seemed.

His thumb traced the rim of his glass absently, the thought bubbling up in his chest before he could push it down.

“I want to tell you something,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You tilted your head slightly, the curious quirk of your brow pulling his attention to the way your lips curved.

“Hm? And what’s that?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He swirled the beer in his glass once, then set it down deliberately, as if that might make this easier.

“I used to like you before.”

For a moment, he thought he’d miscalculated. That he’d said too much too soon. But then your reaction broke through his nerves like sunlight on water—a faint laugh, soft and disarming.

“I know,” you said, your tone light, but your gaze flicked to your drink, your fingers tracing the condensation on the glass like it might give you something to hold onto.

The simple words knocked the air clean out of his lungs.

You know? His mind stumbled over the implications. Had he been that obvious? Had you noticed the way he looked at you back then, the way he’d hovered just a little too long when you stood close, his fingers itching to brush yours?

He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

“Guess I’m a little drunk. Don’t mind my ramblings,” he muttered, leaning back like that would somehow lessen the weight of what he’d just said.

You gave him a look, one brow arched, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You don’t get drunk.”

Shit.

“I—uh—” His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, heat creeping up to his ears as he tried for a laugh. “Right. Forgot who I was talking to.”

Your smirk grew, but you didn’t press him further. Instead, you took another fry, dipping it in the ketchup and nibbling on the end. His gaze followed the movement like he had no choice in the matter, his thoughts spinning helplessly.

You knew? He wanted to ask, wanted to make you spell it out, wanted to hear it in your voice. Did you really know? Or was this some casual observation, something you didn’t think twice about while it had consumed him for years?

But then you glanced up, your eyes meeting his, and the warmth there—gentle, a little shy—unraveled something in him.

He leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table, his beer forgotten. “If you knew,” he said, his voice quiet now, almost teasing, “why didn’t you say anything?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but the smile that followed was soft. “Why didn’t you?”

His laugh was quiet, rueful. “Touché.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The noise of the bar faded into the background, the space between you charged with something unspoken, something almost tangible. Bucky watched as you took another sip of your drink, your lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, your lips brushing the edge of the glass.

“Do you still?” you asked suddenly, your voice tentative, like the words had escaped without permission.

His heart stuttered, the question catching him off guard. He could lie, brush it off like he had before, but the thought of hiding how he felt—after all this time, after you—felt impossible.

Instead, he leaned forward, close enough that he could see the way your breath caught.

“What do you think?” he murmured, his voice low, his gaze fixed on yours.

And the way your cheeks flushed, the way your lips parted ever so slightly, was enough to make him think that maybe, just maybe, you already knew the answer.

You let out a nervous huff, the sound breaking through the air between you, as fragile as it was charged. His words hung there, lingering like they had weight, like they could change everything if you gave them room. But you didn’t trust yourself to stay in that moment—not when his gaze was locked on yours like that, steady and warm and impossibly deep.

“It’s getting hot in here,” you said quickly, your voice pitched higher than usual as you slid out of the booth. “We should, um… we should take a walk. Go someplace else.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you dared a glance at him. He was leaning back in his chair now, his head tilted slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. But then he nodded, standing with that same effortless grace that had always made him seem larger than life.

“Sure,” he said simply, his voice easy, as if he hadn’t just made your heart feel like it was trying to claw its way out of your chest. He nodded, standing with that quiet ease of his, reaching for his wallet before you could protest.

You jumped up quickly, your excitement spilling over as you moved toward the door without waiting for him. The cool night air hit your skin as soon as you stepped outside, a welcome relief from the stuffy warmth of the bar. You breathed it in deeply, the summer heat still clinging to the pavement, but at least the air felt freer out here.

“We’re walking, huh?” Bucky said from behind you, his voice teasing but warm. “Got a specific destination in mind, or are we just wandering?”

“Wandering,” you said brightly, not slowing your pace. “Who needs a plan, anyway?”

You felt light, like your feet barely touched the ground as you walked ahead of him, your sandals clicking softly against the pavement. The streetlights cast golden pools along the sidewalk, your shadow dancing playfully as you moved. You threw a glance over your shoulder to see if he was keeping up, and the way he was watching you—his hands stuffed in his pockets, his lips curved into a soft, crooked smile—made something inside you flutter wildly.

“You’re gonna leave me behind,” he called, his tone mock-scolding.

“Then hurry up!” you called back, laughing as you skipped a few steps ahead, your movements careless and free.

For a moment, it felt perfect. Like something out of a summer dream, the hum of crickets filling the quiet spaces between your laughter and his easy steps.

And then—oh god.

A shadow darted near your face, too fast and too sudden, and you froze in the middle of the sidewalk. It took you half a second to process it—a beetle, its shiny wings catching the light as it buzzed straight toward you.

“AH! GO AWAY.” The words tumbled out as you flailed, stumbling backward and nearly losing a shoe in the process.

Bucky stopped in his tracks, his brows shooting up. “What the—?”

“BUG!” you yelped, pointing wildly at the air around you. “It’s flying! Do something!”

The beetle buzzed again, its wings making a high-pitched hum as it veered closer. You squeaked, ducking dramatically and running behind Bucky like he was a human shield.

He turned, his expression somewhere between concern and disbelief. “Are you serious right now? It’s just a beetle.”

“It’s not just a beetle!” you hissed, gripping his arm like your life depended on it. “It’s a flying. Look at it!”

He glanced at the beetle, then back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’re freaking out over that? It’s like… half an inch.”

“It’s not the size that matters!” you shot back, still cowering behind him. “It’s the intent! Look at it—it’s coming for me!”

That did it. He broke, his laughter spilling out in soft, rich waves that vibrated through his chest.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but he stepped forward anyway, waving a hand to shoo the beetle away.

When it finally buzzed off into the night, you peeked over his shoulder cautiously, still clutching his arm.

“Is it gone?”

“Yes, it’s gone,” he said, still chuckling. “You can come out of hiding now.”

You straightened, brushing imaginary dirt off your top as if that might restore some of your dignity.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Don’t mention it, bug magnet.” His voice was full of barely concealed laughter, and you turned to glare at him, but he only grinned wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Not funny,” you muttered, though you couldn’t quite keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

“Oh, it’s very funny,” he countered, and the warmth in his gaze made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the beetle.

And when his hand brushed against yours as you both started walking again, your heart skipped so hard you thought it might give out entirely.

× × × ×

The hill wasn’t far—just a short walk past quiet streets and through a small park. The city stretched out below like a sea of twinkling lights, the soft hum of distant traffic blending with the chirping of crickets. The air was still warm, but up here, a slight breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of grass and something faintly sweet.

You spotted the bench first, nestled beneath a tall tree, its silhouette just visible against the glow of the city below. Without waiting for him, you made your way over, plopping down with a contented sigh and stretching your legs out in front of you. The wood was cool against your skin, grounding you after the walk.

Bucky followed, his steps slower, more deliberate. When he reached the bench, he hesitated for a moment before sitting beside you, close enough that your knees almost touched. Almost.

“Nice spot,” he said, leaning back and resting an arm along the back of the bench, his fingers just brushing your shoulder. His voice was low, casual, but there was a softness to it, like he wasn’t just talking about the view.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your gaze fixed on the skyline. The city lights flickered like a million little stars, stretching endlessly, but you couldn’t help feeling like the real magic was sitting next to you. “I used to come up here a lot.”

“Alone?” His voice tilted just enough to make the word feel heavier than it should.

“Sometimes,” you said, glancing at him. His profile was sharp against the faint glow of the streetlights, his hair falling in soft waves that caught the breeze. You looked back at the city quickly, your heart tripping over itself. “It’s peaceful. Helps me think.”

“Think about what?” His voice was closer now, like he’d leaned in just a little. You felt the weight of his gaze on you, like he could see through every answer you wanted to give and straight to the truth.

“Stuff,” you said vaguely, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. “Life. Work.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, and when you glanced at him, his lips were curved into that crooked, teasing smile that made your chest ache.

“I’m not lying!” you protested, though your voice betrayed you, the words coming out more flustered than you intended.

“You’re thinking about me,” he said, so casually it took you a second to realize what he’d said.

Your head snapped toward him, your mouth falling open in protest, but the look on his face stopped you cold. His smile was soft now, his blue eyes steady and full of something you couldn’t quite name.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “I take up way too much space in that head of yours.”

You scoffed, trying to sound indignant, but the laugh that followed betrayed you. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m right,” he countered, leaning just a little closer, his arm still stretched along the back of the bench. His fingers brushed your shoulder again, light and deliberate, like a dare. “And you know it.”

You rolled your eyes, looking away, but your lips twitched into a smile. “You’ve got a big ego, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he said, and when you glanced back, the grin he gave you was pure trouble. “But I’m not wrong.”

The moment stretched, the silence between you filled only by the faint breeze and the hum of the city below. His gaze never wavered, steady and unrelenting, and you felt yourself drawn in despite every effort to look away.

“You still haven’t denied it,” he pointed out, his voice quieter now, softer.

Your heart pounded, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “What’s the point? You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

He laughed softly, the sound rich and warm.

“You’re right,” he admitted, his smile tilting into something almost sheepish. “I wouldn’t.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your own laugh, but it slipped out anyway, light and breathless.

“Ugh.”

“I mean who did you call to meet you out here? At midnight?” he shot back, his tone lighter now, teasing but full of warmth.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, the way the light caught in his eyes, the faint crinkle at the corners of his smile.

“Maybe I should’ve called someone else.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up, his lips twitching into an incredulous grin. “Someone else?” he repeated, leaning in slightly, the faintest spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You wound me, doll.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I’m serious. Maybe Sam—”

“Sam?” he cut in, a laugh slipping out before he could stop it. He leaned back, spreading his arms along the bench like he was getting comfortable for the show. “You think Sam would leave his comfy bed and perfectly air-conditioned apartment to meet you at midnight? Please.”

“Well—”

“And don’t even say Steve,” he continued, cutting off whatever rebuttal you had. “You know he’s asleep by nine. The man’s practically a grandpa.”

You laughed, unable to help yourself, and the sound only seemed to spur him on.

“Face it,” he said, leaning forward now, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch. “I’m the only one you could call. You wanted me here.”

Your mouth opened, a half-formed protest on the tip of your tongue, but his expression stopped you cold. The teasing curve of his lips was still there, but his eyes—they were steady, intent, like he was daring you to deny it.

“I…” you started, faltering when you realized he wasn’t going to look away.

“Go on,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of challenge. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you managed, your fingers twisting in your lap.

“That you wanted me here.” His smile turned into something softer, warmer, but no less devastating. “That when you couldn’t sleep, I was the first person you thought of.”

Your breath hitched, and you could feel your face heating under his gaze. You tried to look away, to laugh it off, but he leaned in closer, his elbow resting on his knee, his face just inches from yours.

“C’mon,” he coaxed, his voice dropping even lower. “Admit it. It’s only fair.”

“Fair?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Yeah. I already told you I used to like you.” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips for the briefest second before finding your eyes again. “Your turn.”

Your heart pounded, your hands freezing in your lap, and you swore the city had gone completely silent around you. His eyes searched yours, his expression soft but unyielding, like he was ready to wait forever if he had to.

And god help you, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to run—or pull him closer.

“Pft—it’s not like it’s going to change anything,” you reasoned, though your voice betrayed you, soft and unsteady. You looked away, focusing on the skyline instead of the man sitting far too close, his presence making it impossible to think straight.

Bucky didn’t move for a moment, letting your words hang in the air between you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, quiet—dangerously deliberate. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Your breath caught, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back at him. He was leaning forward now, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped loosely together. But his eyes—they were locked on you, piercing, like they were unraveling every carefully constructed excuse you’d ever made.

“How is that wrong?” you challenged, though your voice wavered, giving you away.

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that felt like it had been pulled from deep in his chest. “Because,” he said, leaning back again, his arm stretching across the bench behind you, his fingers just brushing your shoulder. “It changes everything.”

Your stomach flipped, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” he shot back, and there was that teasing edge again, soft and warm but dangerous because it was him. “Tell me, doll, what happens if I kiss you right now?”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, and you froze, your hands gripping the edge of the bench like it might keep you grounded.

“You wouldn’t.”

Bucky tilted his head, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—didn’t waver. He was studying you like you were some sort of puzzle, his gaze tracing every line of your face, every small movement you made.

“Wouldn’t I?” His voice was low, rough, like gravel smoothed over by honey. And god, it wasn’t fair, the way it made your skin prickle, the way it sent your heart into a dizzying spiral.

You turned your head sharply, staring out at the city like it might save you from whatever this was. But it wasn’t saving you. Not with the way he leaned just a little closer, his arm still draped casually over the back of the bench, his fingers now brushing against your shoulder. The heat of him was impossible to ignore.

“No,” you said, your voice firmer this time, but it still wavered at the end. “You wouldn’t.”

He let out a soft laugh, the sound so low and intimate it curled around you like smoke. “Why’s that?”

“Because—” You faltered, your brain scrambling for a reason, for any reason. “Because you’re all talk.”

Bucky’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened, his lips curving in that maddening way that made your stomach twist and your chest tighten.

“All talk?” he repeated, his voice a low murmur that slipped over your skin like silk. “That’s what you think of me?”

You swallowed hard, refusing to look at him, even though you could feel his gaze on you—hot, heavy, and completely unrelenting. Your pulse thundered in your ears, a wild, uneven rhythm that made it impossible to think.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat because suddenly, he moved.

He shifted closer, the bench creaking softly under his weight. His arm stretched further along the backrest, and when you finally glanced at him, he was right there. His face hovered just inches from yours, his blue eyes impossibly intense, locked onto yours like he was daring you to look away.

“How about,” he whispered, his voice low and rough enough to send a shiver racing down your spine, “you kiss me, and I’ll show you.”

You inhaled sharply, awareness flaring through every nerve in your body. Kiss him? God, he wanted you to kiss him? He was so close, his lips so close to yours, his warm breath whispering across your mouth. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, and the faint scent of beer and something unmistakably him made your head spin.

“Kiss me,” he said again, his voice low and almost hoarse. He was hovering near you, so tantalizingly close, but decidedly not kissing you. He was waiting for you to press your lips to his, but coming as close to you as he could. Tempting you, encouraging you, pulling you in.

Do it. The thought whispered through your mind, reckless and insistent. He was so close. So impossibly close. One small shift forward, and—

Instead, you faltered, glancing down at his lips. “You’re bluffing.”

His lips twitched into a small, infuriating smirk. “Try me.”

You felt drawn forward as if by a magnet. Lightly, delicately, you pressed your lips to his, feeling how much you trembled, how insubstantial and frail your kiss felt but unable to do anything more. You lingered for just a moment, and then pulled back, uncertainly.

Bucky remained still, not moving, so close, his chest now against yours. He didn't kiss you, he didn't smile, or say anything, and you felt an unfamiliar tremor of panic rise in you.

“I thought you said you'd show me,” you said ruefully, your cheeks beginning to burn. Had you done it wrong? Could a kiss be wrong? You could barely remember your name right now, let alone how to kiss someone.

Especially this someone.

“Oh I will,” Bucky whispered. “I'm just waiting for you to really kiss me.”

Something in the timbre of his voice, something in the drowsy desire of his words emboldened you. You leaned forward and kissed him more sensuously, taking his lips with yours, opening your mouth and savouring the fullness of his. And with only the slightest of pauses, Bucky took over.

He leaned against your heavily, almost surging into you, his mouth roaming over yours with a heady, sensual slowness that ignited you. His lips moved over yours possessively, with a slow, languid rhythm as his tongue dipped into your mouth to taste you. When his tongue met yours, you let out a little cry of pleasure, feeling an arrow of desire shoot right down to your core.

He groaned at the sound and dipped his tongue into your mouth and out again rhythmically, as if making love to you. One hand slipped around your back and held you while the other slid up to your breast and felt you, owned you, roamed over you like you were a longed-for prize. He groaned against you, and his kiss deepened into a hot, sensual exploration.

You felt weightless, boneless, all but liquefied by the heat of his mouth on yours and the strength of his hands caressing every part of you. His sounds of pleasure, his soft groans and heavy breathing, every male expression of pleasure made you even more desperate for him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into you, kissing him with abandon.

There was no time for words, no breath to be stolen for the little flirtations of new lovers, there was simply this kiss. You fell into each other, seeking, needing, as if making up for all the years you had denied yourselves this pleasure. It was never enough, there was never a moment when it seemed right to part, never the need to break and bring lips to skin, or to fumble with clothing. It was all consuming, and erotic enough, this deep, soulful kiss, this meeting of mouths and breath and sounds.

You weren't friends...not now, and not ever, you suddenly knew. You had always been this to each other, always one breath away from this, always one kiss away. . one breathless, soulful, beautiful kiss.

Finally—finally—when the need for air had peaked, when the thundering of your hearts needed calming, he reluctantly pulled away, his chest rising and falling with each laboured breath. He smiled at you, a soft laugh escaping through his breathing.

“Now that,” he said, bumping his nose against you as his breath finally began to slow. “Is kissing back.”

Your fingers brushing against your own lips as if to confirm what just happened. Heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks, and you suddenly couldn’t quite meet his gaze.

“I—I should probably get home,” you stammered, your voice higher than you intended. “It’s late.”

Bucky’s brow lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he straightened slightly, his hand lingering at your elbow for just a moment before dropping away. “Alright,” he said softly, his voice warm and steady. “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“You think I’d let you walk home alone?” His eyes narrowed slightly, his tone shifting to something more serious, though the teasing lilt never fully disappeared. “Not a chance, doll.”

Before you could protest again, he was already on his feet, reaching out a hand to help you up. His grip was firm but gentle, his fingers warm around yours, and when you stood, the faintest squeeze sent another ripple of heat through you.

The walk started quietly. The soft noise of crickets filled the summer night, the distant glow of the city lights casting a faint halo on the horizon. The air was thick with unspoken words, every glance and sidelong look charged with the memory of the kiss you’d just shared.

Bucky fell into step beside you, his pace unhurried but purposeful. You noticed it immediately—how he positioned himself closer to the road, his body a silent barrier between you and the passing cars. It was such a small thing, something most people might not even notice, but it made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with the lingering taste of his kiss.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy, the kind that made you acutely aware of everything—of the way his shoulder brushed yours every now and then, of the soft scuff of his boots against the pavement, of the way your heart hadn’t quite settled back into its normal rhythm.

And then, without warning, his hand brushed against yours. It was fleeting, accidental, but the spark it sent through you was impossible to ignore. You glanced up at him, your pulse quickening as you caught the way his lips quirked into the faintest smile.

He didn’t say anything—just slipped his fingers through yours, his grip warm and steady, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles. The gesture was so simple, so natural, but it felt monumental, like crossing some invisible line you could never return from.

You couldn’t help but glance at him again, your lips parting to say something—anything—but the words died on your tongue when you saw the way he was looking at you. His expression was soft, almost shy.

He didn’t look away, and neither did you. The streetlights flickered as you walked beneath them, their glow casting golden pools on the sidewalk, but all you could see was him.

“Are you always this quiet after a kiss?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and teasing, though there was a softness to it that made your heart flutter.

Your face heated, and you looked down at your joined hands, your laugh shaky. “Are you always this smug after one?”

He laughs.

“Depends,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again,“Was it good enough to be smug about?”

You shot him a look, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “Wow, you’re already smug anyway. . .”

“And yet,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch, “you’re still holding my hand.”

You didn’t have an answer for that. Or maybe you did, but it was lost somewhere between the heat of his gaze and the warmth of his palm against yours. And somehow, you didn’t mind one bit.

The walk to your door felt like it ended too soon. One moment, the quiet streets were stretching ahead of you, your hand warm in his, and now, here you were—standing on your front step with no excuse to linger.

Your fingers twitched reluctantly as you let go of his hand, the cool night air rushing in where his warmth had been. You caught the faintest flicker of something on his face—hesitation, maybe?—but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a soft, crooked smile.

The faint glow of your porch light cast soft shadows across his face, making the lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips seem even sharper, even softer all at once.

“I had so much fun today,” Bucky said, his voice quiet but steady, the kind of low timbre that seemed to settle somewhere deep in your chest. “It was so good seeing you.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, your lips curving into a smile even as your heart ached. “Me too.”

He shifted slightly, the smallest movement that still felt impossibly significant. “Good night,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, almost hesitant.

You nodded, your own voice barely above a whisper. “Good night.”

But he didn’t turn to leave. Instead, he lingered, his gaze holding yours like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“You have a sweet dream,” he added, his words softer now, gentler, and they hit you like a warm breeze. His lips tilted into a small, almost bashful smile, and the tenderness in his expression stole whatever breath you had left.

You barely managed to nod, your throat too tight to speak. But before you could even think about what to say, he stepped forward, closing the space between you in one unhurried movement.

His arms wrapped around you, solid and warm, pulling you into him without hesitation. It wasn’t hurried or awkward—it was grounding, steadying, like he’d been waiting all night for this. The scent of him—faintly woodsy, clean, and musky—washed over you as his hands settled lightly on your back, and your face pressed against his chest. You could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing, the strength in the way he held you as though he didn’t want the moment to slip away.

“Good night,” he murmured again, his voice rumbling softly against your hair. His arms tightened slightly before he finally, finally let you go, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary before dropping to his sides.

You stepped back, your heart thundering as you looked up at him.

You swallowed hard, your lips curving into a smile as you opened your door. “Good night, Bucky.”

As the door clicked shut behind you, you leaned against it, your chest rising and falling as you tried to calm your racing heart. On the other side, you imagined him standing there for just a moment longer, smiling to himself the way he always did when he thought no one was looking.

And somehow, that made everything feel perfect.

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @veronicapaula

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sluttsumu · 1 year ago

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DOUBLE TROUBLE

.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya

in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.

warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune

two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.

— ♡︎ —

“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.

the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.

there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.

atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.

“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.

“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.

osamu really was a genius.

“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.

*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*

“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.

“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?

“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.

white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,

halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.

a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.

“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.

he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.

the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.

“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!

“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.

“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.

“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?

money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.

atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.

“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”

in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.

meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.

bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.

“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.

“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”

“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.

“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”

—♡︎—

suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.

the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.

you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.

it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.

you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.

“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”

the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.

the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.

hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.

“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”

guess i’ll be the first, he thought.

suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.

atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.

“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.

“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”

the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.

“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.

“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.

it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.

atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.

“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.

“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.

the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.

simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”

“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”

“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.

the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.

atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.

but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”

“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.

he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.

“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.

“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.

“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.

get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.

a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.

frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.

hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.

you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.

he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.

starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.

it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.

“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.

the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.

“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”

—♡︎—

osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.

you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.

“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.

the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.

he has drugs just laying in his room?

“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.

he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.

“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”

osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.

“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.

fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.

“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.

every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.

you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.

“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.

the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.

loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.

“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.

you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.

osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.

“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.

your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.

“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.

suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.

“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”

seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.

it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.

absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?

“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”

suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.

“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.

“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.

“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”

the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.

a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.

suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.

hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.

“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.

he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.

“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”

“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”

“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.

“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”

“are you gonna stare or join?”

sluttsumu 2023

3K notes · View notes

ginxyy · 2 months ago

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Levelling up Love

Video games, jealousy and confessions with Wonwoo

It was one of those perfectly chaotic evenings, where the sound of pixelated creatures leaping across screens drowned out the world outside. The video game café was alive with vibrant energy laughter, playful screams, and the soft click of controllers filled the room. I leaned back in my chair, glancing over at Wonwoo, who was completely engrossed in a game of Street Fighter. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his mouth in a slight pout as he focused intently on the screen. I couldn’t help but smile; watching him like this made my heart race in ways I had never experienced before.

We had been dating for a few months now, but each moment still felt fresh, like unwrapping a new gift. Every shared smile, every gentle touch, and every playful banter between us added layers to our growing connection. I loved how natural we fell into each other's rhythms; each date felt effortlessly enchanting. This night was no exception.

After an exhilarating round of gaming, Wonwoo suggested we take a break and grab some snacks. With a quick peck on my cheek that sent an excited shiver down my spine, he excused himself to the counter, leaving me alone for the first time that evening. I watched as he chatted animatedly with the café staff, his beautiful hair falling in graceful curls, and my heart swelled he was even charming with complete strangers.

As I sat there sipping on my soda, my gaze wandered around the café, landing on a friendly-looking worker who smiled at me while rearranging some game cases. “Hey, are you enjoying your time here?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

I offered him a smile in return, “Yeah, it’s a blast! My boyfriend and I love gaming, so this is a perfect spot for us.” I gestured to the empty chair beside me, where Wonwoo had just sat moments ago. The worker nodded, seemingly intrigued.

“Oh, that’s awesome! Which games do you play?” he asked, leaning in slightly. I sensed a curiosity mixed with friendly enthusiasm. I started telling him about our favorite co-op games, losing track of time as the conversation flowed easily. It was refreshing to connect with someone new, sharing a mutual love for gaming.

However, just then, I felt a shift in the air; warmth turned to tension. I turned my head slightly to see Wonwoo standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and an unmistakable look of jealousy etched onto his face. The way his eyes narrowed just a bit when he saw me talking to the worker was enough to make my heart skip a beat. I tried to suppress the laughter bubbling inside me, finding his reaction both comical and endearing.

He must have been standing there for a bit, observing our exchange. The moment I met his gaze, a mixture of confusion settled on his face intermingled with protectiveness. As if sensing the shift in my attention, the worker quickly retreated, offering me a smile and a slight head nod as he walked away.

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, approaching me, the hint of sulkiness lacing his tone. I couldn’t help but giggle. He plopped down beside me, a mild pout forming on his lips as he shot the worker a sideways glance. “I brought snacks,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, but I could see through it.

I couldn’t contain my amusement; this sulky side of him was too adorable. “Wonwoo,” I said softly, nudging him playfully. “You don’t have to be jealous. I was just chatting.”

“Jealous?” he scoffed, though the slight blush creeping up his cheeks gave him away. “I wasn’t jealous. I just didn’t like how he was looking at you.”

“Oh please,” I laughed again, my affection for him deepening. “He was just being friendly! You know I only have eyes for you.” I paused for a moment, my heart beginning to race as I prepared to share something I had been holding close to my heart. “And I love you, you know that?”

The words hung in the air like an electric current, both thrilling and terrifying, and as soon as they passed my lips, my pulse quickened. Wonwoo’s expression changed completely; the sulkiness melted away, replaced by wide eyes filled with surprise and absolute joy.

“I… I love you too,” he stuttered, the words flowing out of him like a rush of relief. Without missing a beat, he captured my face in his hands, pulling me in for a tender kiss that sent sparks dancing through me. The world around us faded away, leaving only him and the warmth of our newfound confession.

Suddenly, he was all kisses soft, sweet pecks that turned into an eager cascade of joy. I could feel his smile against my lips as our laughter intertwined, creating a symphony of feelings that resonated deep within me.

“Really? You mean it?” he asked, still partially caught up in the sweetness of that moment.

“Yes, I mean it!” I responded, my heart racing in a way that felt like it belonged in a fairytale. “You’ve captured my heart, Wonwoo.”

He beamed at me, a grin that could light up the darkest of rooms. The sulkiness had completely disappeared, replaced by a pure glee that radiated from him. “I’m glad,” he said, his voice softening, “because I never want to let you go.”

As our laughter faded into warmth and comfort, I found my fingers intertwined with his, perfectly fitting in a way that felt as though it was always meant to be. The café buzzed on around us, but in that moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world, locked together in a love that was just beginning to bloom.

From that night onward, I knew I had leveled up in more than just gaming I had leveled up in love, and with Wonwoo at my side, every new adventure felt like the start of an exciting quest.

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blackenedsnow · 4 months ago

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Hello! Feel free to ignore this if you can't or wouldn't like to write it!

If it's not any trouble, could I request an Arthur Morgan x Asexual!Reader thing (one shot or headcanons, whatever fits better and/or is easier!), where there's like, mutual pining, but the reader speaks about their aversion to sex and lack of that sort of attraction, and how they think they're just never gonna have a meaningful romantic relationship because of this? Been feeling discouraged and sad about this, so yeah lmao.

And if the reader could be buff, it'd be awesome (no, I am not buff yet, but I will use this as inspiration to get there lol.

Anyways, tysm for taking the time to read this! Have a lovely day/night/afternoon!

heart stronger than flesh

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Arthur Morgan x Asexual! Reader

NOTE: I hope this gave you the encouragement you were looking for! Arthur's got your back, and so do I. You're going to reach those buff goals, one step at a time. Stay strong and know you're worthy of all the love and care in the world! Thank you so much for requesting this. Remember that love comes in many forms, and you deserve it as you are.

SUMMARY: Arthur has always admired you—your strength, your sharp wit, the way you stand tall in the middle of this messy world. He knows there’s something unspoken between you two, but neither of you has dared to name it. That is, until one evening when you finally confront your fears about the future.

The camp was quiet tonight, only the crackling of the fire filling the air as the rest of the gang slowly drifted off to sleep. You sat a little ways from the fire, resting on a fallen log, your muscles tense from the long day. Arthur sat nearby, the warmth of the firelight casting flickering shadows over his face as he quietly cleaned his gun. His usual frown softened whenever his eyes flickered your way, though he was trying to act like he wasn’t paying too much attention to you.

It had been this way for a while now. The unspoken tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface—an unacknowledged pining that neither of you knew how to handle. You weren’t blind to how he looked at you, especially after all the times you’d ridden into town together, his eyes lingering on the way your biceps flexed when you pulled the reins. He was always good at keeping it hidden, though, his cowboy façade of stoicism remaining intact. But tonight felt different. He kept glancing over at you more often than usual, his jaw clenched a little tighter.

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, feeling your muscles strain under your skin. Even in the dim light, your physique was obvious—strong arms and broad shoulders earned through days of hard work and rough living. You were proud of the strength you'd built, but something else gnawed at you. The weight in your chest wasn’t from exhaustion.

You tried to brush the thought aside, but it came creeping back, like it always did.

Arthur noticed the shift in your expression. He finally broke the silence, his voice low and gravelly. “You alright?”

You hesitated, your fingers idly picking at the worn fabric of your pants. “Yeah. Just… got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

He nodded, putting down his gun and giving you his full attention now. He was quiet for a moment, waiting for you to speak. His eyes were soft, his usual guarded expression slipping as he looked at you with concern.

You shifted on the log, feeling the words at the back of your throat, but they were hard to spit out. How could you explain it? You weren’t shy about being tough, about fighting back against the world, but this? This was something different. Something more vulnerable.

“Arthur…” you started, not looking at him directly. “You ever… feel like you're not ever gonna have what other folks have? Like, love… romance?” You paused, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. “I mean, I see people, how they are with each other. But for me… I don’t feel the same way they do.”

Arthur frowned slightly, not sure where you were going with this yet. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed hard, your hands tightening into fists in your lap. “I don’t… I don’t want the same things as most people. I don’t want—” You stopped, heart pounding, before forcing yourself to continue. “I don’t want sex, Arthur. I never have. Never felt that way. And it makes me feel like… like I'm gonna be enough. Not for anyone.”

Arthur was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, but there was no judgment in his eyes. Just understanding, like he was listening to every word you said with more focus than he gave most things in this world.

You let out a shaky breath. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while now. About... us. I know there’s… something between us, but I’m scared it’ll never work because I can’t give you what most people expect in a relationship. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s fair to you.”

Arthur finally spoke, his voice low and calm. “You really think that’s all there is to love? To wantin’ someone?”

You blinked at him, surprised by his question.

“I’m serious,” he said, shifting forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned toward you. “You think I’m with you—care about you—just ‘cause of what I could get outta you physically?” He shook his head. “It ain’t like that. Not for me.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

“I don’t care about that,” he continued. “Hell, I’ve been around enough folks to know what really matters. I care about *you*. I care about the way you carry yourself, the way you look after the people you care about, the way you get stronger every damn day.” His eyes softened even more. “You think I ain’t noticed how damn strong you’ve gotten, how you keep pushin’ yourself?”

Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke, and a warmth spread through your chest at his words. You had always prided yourself on your strength, but hearing it from him—hearing how he noticed and appreciated it—meant more than you could have expected.

“I’ve felt it too,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “Somethin’ between us. I ain’t gonna pretend I know all the answers, but I know I care about you. And I don’t need anything else but you by my side.”

It was hard with the weight of your fears crashing into the relief his words brought.

Arthur, ever perceptive, reached out slowly, placing a calloused hand on your knee. It was a gentle touch—so different from the hardened man you were used to seeing in him.

“I ain’t here to push you,” he said softly. “You don’t ever have to be anything you’re not. I don’t expect you to change, and I sure as hell don’t think you’re any less for feelin’ the way you do.” He hesitated, squeezing your knee gently. “You’re more than enough. I promise you that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping your eyes quickly. “Arthur, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say anything,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Just know that you mean somethin’ to me. And I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

For the first time in a long while, the tight knot in your chest started to loosen. You weren’t used to feeling this kind of reassurance, and yet, here was Arthur Morgan—someone as rough as the life you both led—telling you that you were enough just as you were.

You looked down at his hand on your knee, then back up into his eyes. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled—just a small, fleeting thing, but it was real. “Anytime.”

The two of you sat there for a while longer, the fire crackling softly beside you, the night quiet and peaceful for once. And in that stillness, you felt a sense of calm settle in your bones.

You were strong—physically and emotionally. And with Arthur by your side, maybe you didn’t have to carry that weight alone.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #red dead redemption #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #oneshot #x reader #ask

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djarins-cyare · 4 months ago

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WIP Weekend

It’s been a while since I’ve made progress on any of my fics, but I’m trying my best to write something for Kate’s Roll-A-Trope Challenge, so I finally have something I can share a snippet of 🥳

Over the last 14 weeks, I’ve been tagged in 19 WIP Wednesday posts / Last Line games / WIP polls (yes, I keep track!), so thank you to the following lovely people for continuing to think of me even though I’ve been suspiciously quiet 💚:

@burntheedges @nerdieforpedro @604to647 @the-mandawhor1an

@kyberblade @almostfoxglove @for-a-longlongtime @djarins-wife

May I offer you some (totally unedited and marginally redacted) pre-spice Din and f!Reader in the trope genre of secret relationship below the cut…

Swallowing, you blink innocently and ask, “Is there anything else you need before I turn in?” You’re not particularly tired, but you should let him get some rest. Slowly, the angle of Mando’s helmet drops a few centimetres, and he releases a vibrant hum. The few seconds of silence that follow feel charged somehow, full of expectation, and just as you realise where he’s relocated his gaze to, he rumbles a reply in the lowest, sexiest register you’ve heard from him this evening. “So far, you’ve known exactly what I’ve needed without me having to ask.” He pauses again as he slowly tilts his helmet, the silence loaded with promise. “So you tell me. What do I need now?” Your eyes inadvertently dart to his crotch again and… shit. You’re pretty sure something’s happening down there. It looks… harder… larger (if that’s even possible). “You, uh….” Your attempt at an answer goes nowhere since you don’t know what to say. You want this, sure, but you shouldn’t. He’s injured, and you promised your uncle you’d keep your distance, not jump into an intimate act with the guy the first chance you get. After a few deep and shuddering breaths, you manage, “You need a good night’s sleep.” “I do,” he agrees. “But your question was whether I need anything else before you go to bed. Sleep comes after you go. What comes before?” Fuck. His words vibrate through you and disintegrate your misgivings. There’s no logical decision to answer in the way that you do; it just happens. “You… if you want.” A pleased hum resonates through the vocoder. “I do,” he agrees again. “The bacta took away the pain, but if you’re offering some pleasure too….” “Y-yes,” you blurt, halfway between eager and anxious. “But… my uncle will kill me if he finds out.” Mando chuckles. “He’d shoot me first. Our secret, then?” Your pussy dampens at the idea, eyes flashing as you nod your acceptance of his clandestine terms. Suddenly, a secret liaison with the apparently dangerous man you’re supposed to be avoiding for your own good sounds like the most desirable thing in the galaxy.

Yeah, you know me… I can’t just write a single scene; I have to write the whole damn relationship!

So, obviously, this is how their secret relationship gets off the ground. You may have gathered that Reader is a certain High Magistrate’s niece and has been given strict instructions to avoid the new resident of the cabin out on the lava flats. You can look forward to plenty of sneaking around, flimsy excuses, near misses, and suspicious confrontations. Oh, and smut 😏

I can’t believe I only have a month left to write all this. What have I signed up for? I’m so fucked…

*Hates self for not being able to write short stories* /jk

I’m clearly over-excited about finally having something for a WIP post, so I’m going wild and tagging a load of writer mutuals and favourites. Feel free to do any form of WIP post you choose, or ignore me entirely if you’re not up for posting snippets right now (either way, you’re all awesome) 💚

@5oh5 @abbonation @always-andromeda @captainredspade @court-jobi

@davnittbraes @din-cognito @dindjarindiaries @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter

@dumfanting @eatommo @evolnoomym @fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven

@fuckyeahdindjarin @galaxyedging @grogusmum @happy-beeeps @iamsherlocked-1998

@insomniamamma @ishabull @itsjuststardust @joelalorian @jolapeno

@lady-bess @lahooozaherr @larkoneironaut @littlemisspascal @magpiepills

@morallyinept @mothandpidgeon @newpathwrites @oonajaeadira @penvisions

@prolix-yuy @quicksilvermad @saradika @secretelephanttattoo @sixhours

@sp00kymulderr @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom

@wannab-urs @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams @wrathkitty @yopossum

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jessicas-pi · 8 days ago

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So. You guys remember that AU I had? The one where Darth Vader kind-of adopted Inquisitor!Ezra as his son? Among other things? No? Ok yeah here's the link to the OG post

...

ANYWAY I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS NOW!

Shortly after arriving on Lothal, Sabine found Ezra some armor and painted it to match hers. Since they look pretty much the same and never take off their helmets when they're out vandalizing, no one knows who they are or even how many of them there are. People start calling them the Mad Mandos. Sabine thinks it's a lame nickname, Ezra thinks it's awesome.

When Vader shows up, Ezra insists he stay for dinner. Yes he knows Vader can't eat with the suit, but it's polite and he hasn't had a family dinner with Dad in so long...

Cue the most awkward meal of all time. Vader tries to make small talk. Sabine is silently panicking while Vader is making small talk. Vader is trying to figure out who the Mandalorian is (is she ezra's friend? is she ezra's girlfriend? did she kidnap him? did he kidnap her? was it mutual kidnapping? this is all very unclear and vader needs answers) without being too scary, for Ezra's sake, but frankly there's nothing he can do about it. He's terrifying. It's a fact.

Anyway. Ezra's happy. Sabine's freaked out. (She's so glad she took Ezra out of the bounty hunting profession because this would have ended so badly if he'd been hurt.) And then...

Actually, I have to back up and explain.

So, the Empire is in absolute CHAOS right now. Mostly due to the fact that the Emperor is dead.

Palpatine had been trying to get rid of Ezra for some time, seeing the boy as a weakness to Vader, so Vader offed Palps as soon as he had the chance.

Then Vader realizes oh no, am I the Emperor now??? Vader thinks quick, trying to figure out someone who he could appoint as Emperor. They need to be smart and responsible and able to deal with crazy people and...

Cody!

Vader makes Cody the Emperor, and immediately runs off to find his missing kid.

(Cody lasts two years as Emperor before abdicating due to how much he absolutely loathes the job. He departs from the public eye and instantly vanishes. No one can find him. No one knows where he is. He goes down in history as the least hated emperor of the short-lived empire. Legend has it that he can still be seen, now and then, drinking space margaritas on the beaches of Scarif.)

But with Cody's abdication and immediate vanishment, nobody is left in charge. Power struggles are immediate and messy, and in all that chaos, some of the regular protocols are forgotten.

Such as the one maintaining Vader's life support system.

See, Palpatine didn't want Vader being operational without him, so he had something built into the suit so that it would shut down if he didn't enter a specific code every week. Cody kept it up because it was just one of those regular protocols, he didn't even know what it did, but now with the chaos, it's forgotten about.

On Lothal, Vader collapses suddenly.

Sabine would rather do anything than touch the machinery of Vader's life support system, but he's Ezra's dad and he's dying and grrrrrrh FINE SHE'LL HELP.

With some quick thinking, she gets the most essential parts of the suit to work, pauses briefly to make sure Ezra's not going to have a panic attack, and then sets to work on restoring the rest of the suit.

Sabine is horrified by the state of Vader's prosthetics. This equipment is like... 10, 15 years out of date.

Project: Repair Ezra's Dad becomes her new hobby. Vader is a begrudging participant in this project. He's just doing it because she's Ezra's friend. Well... probably his friend? He passed out before he figured out what, exactly, she was.

But once he is awake and functional, it's not long before Vader comes to the conclusion that she's SEVERAL things to Ezra, including his ride-or-die best friend, his roommate, his partner in crime, his occasional parental guidance, and his substitute moral compass.

By means of incredibly unsubtle questioning, Vader does rule the girlfriend thing out. By equally unsubtle means, he also makes it very clear to Sabine that the girlfriend thing is completely off the table in the future as well. Like forever. Hands off his son.

(That was a dinner conversation neither Sabine nor Ezra would ever like to repeat.)

Anyway, over time, Sabine and Vader get to talking. No one--especially not Ezra--knows how it happens, but Sabine and Vader actually become friends. It's kind of a terrifying idea.

(Vader attempts, with his usual unsubtle means, to gauge Ezra's opinion on potentially acquiring a sister.)

(Oddly, Ezra doesn't seem too keen on it.)

(Vader, now worried, makes a mental note to reiterate to Sabine that under no hypothetical future circumstances will she ever be allowed to date his son.)

So, yeah. Time passes. Vader just kind of... sticks around. A couple Inquisitors show up and he yells at them for interrupting bonding time with his son but he doesn't Force-choke them because it makes Ezra upset when he does.

In fact, Ezra seems to be getting upset about several things Vader does that he used to be fine with before. Vader almost wants to be mad at Sabine for giving his son a conscience, but he begins to realize that he doesn't quite like doing those things, either.

(Without the outdated, barely-functional suit tormenting him nearly every second of the day, and on a planet that shines with Light, Vader's grip on the Darkness is slipping.)

(One day, standing amid the long grasses, watching Ezra trying to show off by climbing the rock spires, Vader smiles.)

(He has not smiled in fourteen years.)

But good things don't always last, do they?

One day, on one of their vandalism missions, both of the kids go missing. Vader, filled with rage, takes his TIE and chases their kidnappers down to one of the shanty-towns.

He is seconds away from going on a murder spree when Ezra's frantic intervention stops him.

Some intimidation and a bit of mind reading later, Vader uncovers the truth. These people, it seems, got Ezra and Sabine out of a scrape, and were genuinely going to bring them back home after their stop here--or, if that didn't work out, after they went on a brief mission to free Wookiee slaves.

Vader doesn't even really notice that they were going to be freeing Wookiee slaves from the Empire.

Ever since the oozing slick of Darkness started to be washed away, Vader has felt something worryingly like pangs of conscience for what he has done in service to the Empire.

Long before he was a Sith--long before he was a Jedi--Vader was a boy who had a dream about freeing all the slaves.

"I'm coming with," he announces.

"Dad, I'm not really sure that's a good idea--"

"This is not up for discussion, son."

Oh Force, Kanan thinks. Oh Force, this is definitely a Sith Lord. There is a Sith Lord going on this mission with us to fight the Empire. what the kriff what the kriff what the kriff---

What follows is the most awkward, tense mission the Spectres have ever undertaken.

It's also, without a doubt, the easiest mission the Spectres have ever undertaken.

Vader goes all Rogue One Hallway Scene on the transport full of Stormtroopers, which Ezra frowns at him for, and Vader feels a little tiny bit bad about it.

Zeb is slightly impressed by Ezra's ability to whack stormtroopers together by their helmets without even touching them.

"Hey, Kanan, kid's like you!" he says, without thinking.

There's a long, terrified pause.

"Cockroaches," Vader huffs, pointing at Kanan in something more like annoyance than anything else. "You're like cockroaches. Squish one and three more show up. Utterly impossible to kill."

"Da-ad!" Ezra complains. "You can't kill my friends!"

"I'm not going to kill your friends. I merely said they were difficult to kill."

"Well you made it sound like a threat! And you said you wouldn't do that anymore!"

"I know. They're just like this," Sabine mutters under her breath, giving Kanan a consoling pat on the shoulder. "You get used to it, after a while."

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #inquisitor ezra bridger #sabine wren #darth vader #jessica's random thoughts #sabezra #(in that Vader is staunchly against it at the moment)#(that awkward moment when your dad is a Sith Lord and trying to shovel talk a girl you're not even dating)#anyway there is more of this to come!#but alas I work the early shift tomorrow so for the present I must retire to my chambers and slumber #Dad Vader But He's Got The Wrong Son AU

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punkrockmlchael · 10 days ago

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Bed Chem - Chapter One

My Main Masterlist

Bed Chem Masterlist

Modern AU; Rockstar!Gareth Emerson x Popstar!Fem Reader (Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s) ; loosely based off of the song Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Slow Burn, Popstar!Fem Reader, Rockstar!Gareth, Mentions of Anxiety, Best Friend!Robin, Mutual Pining, Flirting

Synopsis: I was in a sheer dress the day that we met; we were both in a rush, we talked for a sec.

Word Count: 2.8k

“This is all so crazy,” you mumbled to yourself and to your best friend, Robin, as you frantically moved around your hotel room. You kept pacing back and forth in the small room like a pinball bouncing off of the walls of the machine.

“Crazy, why?” Robin asked as she followed after you, trying to fix your hair. “God damn girl, fucking stay still,” she sighed, looking at you. You stopped in your place and turned to look at her, biting your lip out of nerves as she reached her right hand up, pushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear.

“It’s all so crazy because I don’t deserve this,” you said, nervously, “I am literally just a small town girl from Ohio.” You sighed, looking up at Robin. “I am not meant to be a popstar, or famous, or anything for that matter..” You trailed off, looking around the hotel room, your eyes meeting the curtains that hung in front of the windows. “I’m just… me.”

“That, my friend, is where you are wrong,” Robin replied, smiling at you as she proceeded to fix your hair and look at your makeup. “You are so incredibly talented and beautiful and you deserve this so much. You have worked so hard to be where you are now and it makes me so proud watching you grow and evolve as a person and a performer.” She added, smiling as she triple checked your hair and makeup. “Besides, there are so many other people that are excited to see you perform tonight as well. The fans, the artists, the actors; you are literally the talk of this Awards Show.”

“Yeah?” You asked, looking at her. “Like who? Who could possibly be excited to see me perform?” You raised an eyebrow, watching her every move.

“Well, for instance, I heard that Corroded Coffin is going to be there,” she said with a wink before she walked back to the bed to grab your dress. “I saw a video of them the other day on Instagram? No, maybe it was TikTok? I don’t remember the platform but I know they were doing a live stream and talking about the Awards Show, since they’re performing too. They were answering some questions that people were asking in the chat and your name was mentioned. All four of them smiled, and I think their drummer was talking about how stoked he was to finally meet you and see you perform live and in person.” She added as she unzipped the dress bag, revealing your black and sheer looking dress.

“Wait, their drummer?” You asked, taking a few steps closer to her. “Like, you mean Gareth?” You asked, “Like, Gareth Emerson? Curly hair, blue eyes, freckles, those really strong arms that could just, probably put anyone in a choke hold and that really awesome shaded dragon tattoo on his left bicep that looks really fucking good when he’s drumming?” You paused for a second, thinking about Corroded Coffin, more specifically, their drummer and his…looks, no, wait talent? No, it’s his looks, definitely his looks, but, his talent helps too. “The same drummer that’s killing records, making all those videos and just like, one of the hottest and best drummers out there right now?” You added, and Robin shrugged in return, a small smirk on her face.

“I thought that was Eddie? I don’t know; I’m not sure? I don’t think that I know their names, should I?” She joked, looking at you. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you made eye contact with her.

“You know their names,” you argued, sighing softly. You made your way to the bed and looked down at the dress as she took it out of the bag. “You and I both know that you know their names, and which one is which and what instrument they play,” you added, looking at her. “Closeted fan,” you mumbled at her.

“Yeah, yeah.” Robin started, picking the dress up by the hanger in her hands. “I know who they are because of you. I’ve heard you yell and scream Gareth’s name at your phone too many times to count. Occasionally Eddie’s name too but, mostly Gareth; I’m not entirely sure what you see in him, honestly. He’s just a… man.” She held the dress up by the hanger and looked at you. “And, you know what? I’m still surprised you listen to their music; I mean, you sit here and make upbeat pop music, and you listen to rock music in your free time? It doesn’t make any sense to me.” She added, shaking her head as she went on a tangent, again, about your music choices and the music you make.

“I really don’t feel comfortable taking musical advice from a woman who listens to country music in her free time,” you teased, grabbing your dress from her. You made your way to the bathroom attached to the hotel room and walked in, hanging the dress on the back of the door.

“Hey, I think every genre of music should be loved and is unique. The minute you write a country album, I’ll be the first to buy it!” She smiled back, watching you disappear into the bathroom with your dress.

You shook your head and proceeded to get into your dress for the night. You slid off the robe you had on and stepped into your dress, pulling it up and over your body before zipping it up in the back. You did a little spin, checking yourself out in the mirror.

The black dress hugged your body perfectly, fitting in all the right places. The top corset was stoned with black and silver sequins and crystals, forming a perfect sweetheart neckline around your cleavage. The midsection of the dress was a sheer fabric with a couple sequins attached to it, showing the illusion of your skin beneath before it met the solid black sequin and sparkly skirt that was floor length. There was a slit cut out on the left side of the dress, starting at your upper thigh and lasting to the very bottom of the dress, flaring out at the bottom.

You gave yourself one last once over in the mirror before you stepped out of the bathroom, finding Robin zipping up her own dress for the night.

She looked up at you and smiled, taking in your appearance. “Hot,” she giggled, walking towards you. “You are so totally going to get hit on tonight while wearing that.” She said, looking you up and down. “Hopefully by Corroded Coffin’s drummer.”

You shook your head and blushed at Robin’s compliments before you sat down on the bed carefully, strapping on your matching black heels that showed off your perfectly french manicured toes. “I don’t think I’m going to get hit on in this, especially not by Gareth,” you said softly, strapping both of the shoes on your feet. “If anything, you’re going to get hit on in that,” you added, looking up at Robin as she did a quick spin in her simple navy blue mermaid style dress. As she spun the bottom train of the dress rose up, showing off the black Converse shoes she had on underneath. “Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” She asked, defensively. “I’m not the one on the red carpet, Miss Popstar; you should be happy that I am in a dress for you, honestly.” She added, placing her hands on her hips, drawing attention to her waistline that appeared to be overdramatic in this dress. You rolled your eyes and stood up, looking at her.

“I wish you were walking the red carpet with me,” you admitted, shaking your head. “I am so scared that I am going to make a fool out of myself in front of everyone and blow my chances at becoming famous.” You added, looking at her.

“Hey, please,” Robin reassured you, stepping closer to you. “If Jennifer Lawrence can fall walking up some stairs, in front of everyone, while trying to accept an award then you really have nothing to worry about. And if you do fall, just laugh it off. I think you are overthinking this whole thing,” she frowned, looking at you. “Look at me,” she said, catching your eyes. “Deep breath, okay?” She took a deep breath in and held it for a few seconds before she let it go. You mimicked her moves, taking a deep breath yourself before you let it go in a fairly similar fashion. “Better?”

“Better,” you nodded, forcing a small smile for her.

“I mean it,” Robin said your name, noticing the forced smile on your face. “You have this amazing confidence every time you walk on a stage, and I just know that it will come out on the red carpet, trust me.” You smiled a little more at her words.

“I hate that you always know what to say,” you nodded her way, feeling your anxiety slowly wash away as you thought about walking the red carpet and meeting so many new people. “And, that you're always right.” You added, grabbing your purse.

“It’s a Buckley gift, really,” she beamed, grabbing her bag as she followed you out the door of the hotel room.

When you arrived at the venue for the Music Awards, your car door was being opened for you by people you didn’t even know. The kind gentleman smiled at you and helped you out of the car, giving you a nod as he said your name and smiled at you.

Wow, you could definitely get used to this.

You matched his smile as you adjusted your purse over your shoulder, the small bag hanging by your hip. You began making your way down the red carpet, your face lighting up as fans were lined up calling your name left and right for pictures and autographs.

You made your way over to some, smiling at the teenage girls who were in front of you with excited grins on their faces. “Oh my god,” one of the girls said. “I cannot believe it’s you!” She said, jumping up and down.

“Seriously! Oh my god, we’re such big fans!” The other girl added. “Can we get an autograph? And maybe a picture with you?” You smiled at them both, finding their excitement both sweet and heartwarming.

“Of course!” You replied, grabbing the sharpie from one of the girl’s hands. You quickly signed your signature over the papers they both had, adding a little hand drawn heart next to your name before you took one of their phones in your hands. You stood between them and took a couple selfies with them, smiling, silly faces, you took at least five selfies with the girls before you thanked them and headed on your way down the red carpet again.

As you inched closer and closer towards the entrance of the Awards Show, you were stopped by so many people. People wanting pictures of you, wanting to talk to you and ask you questions, more people asking for your autograph. Despite being overwhelming, it was definitely fun and a dream come true. As you were posing for some more pictures, you heard your name.

More specifically, you heard your name being said by the one and only Gareth Emerson. You looked around, finding all four members of Corroded Coffin a few feet away as they smiled and chatted with the journalists on the red carpet.

You stared at them for a second and blinked, your heart stopping. Jeff, Eddie, Gareth and Grant stood there; Gareth was currently giving a whole speech about how you were the one performer he was excited to see and meet.

How your music was so fun and bubbly, just like your personality. How you always looked so badass on stage and carried yourself with such high regards. How you have a way of moving a crowd and this would be the first time he would actually be in the crowd to watch you in person. How you always looked so pretty in everything you wore and how–okay, now you were just hearing things that you wanted to hear…

You looked around the red carpet again before slowly making your way towards the group of boys. You didn’t even remember walking over, your feet just led you to them; but you weren’t complaining because, wow were they hot in person. Way hotter than you ever dreamed they would be.

“Yeah, her music seems to be speaking to a lot of people, and in my mind that makes a great artist,” Gareth praised, smiling at the journalist.

“Absolutely,” Eddie agreed, “she knows her audience and she is definitely playing to that. Hell, I didn’t even know I was part of her audience but, here I am!”

“Here we all are,” Grant corrected Eddie.

“Yeah, especially Gareth,” Jeff commented, elbowing Gareth in the side gently which made Gareth roll his eyes slightly.

You stopped behind the boys, standing between Eddie and Gareth as you let out a soft giggle.

“The feeling is very much mutual,” you smiled, looking at the boys as you snuck in between Eddie and Gareth, wrapping your arms around their backs gently. Eddie smiled as he felt your touch his back, and Gareth tensed at the touch slightly, his cheeks flushing a soft pink from being so close to you. “Speak of the devil herself and she shall appear.” You teased, looking at the four boys and the journalist.

The boys smiled at you, letting out little snickers here and there at how you referred to yourself as the devil. The journalist looked at you and spoke your name softly, pulling your attention back to him. “What are you most excited for tonight?” The journalist asked, smiling as he held a little microphone towards you.

“Honestly? Performing tonight, I am so excited to perform my own music in front of so many amazing artists. I am a little nervous, but definitely excited. I am also excited to see so many amazing artists perform as well; like these guys. I’ve been a huge fan of Corroded Coffin for quite some time, and seeing them perform will be a dream come true.” You replied, smiling at the journalist.

“The feeling is very much mutual,” Eddie replied, his classic smirk on his face as he looked at you. You smiled and looked at him, rolling your eyes gently.

“I am so glad,” you giggled softly. “I should be on my way, but it was amazing to chat with you guys, I’ll see you all later!” You added before you gave Eddie and Gareth both a quick side hug and waved goodbye to all the boys before you continued down the red carpet. You posed for a few more pictures, smiling at the photographers in front of you. You were so focused on the photographers that you didn’t realize that Gareth’s gaze had followed you down the red carpet, watching and taking in your every move.

That night was a blur of emotions, feelings and experiences. It felt like you were floating as you performed on stage in front of the entire world–literally.

After leaving the stage you wandered backstage, trying to find your way through the halls and crowds of people. You weren’t paying attention as you found yourself losing your balance, tripping over something.

The next thing you knew you were falling towards the ground before a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and caught you gently. You braced yourself for impact, your hands grabbing the person’s biceps tightly.

“Careful, princess,” the person said, helping you to your feet with their arms still wrapped around you gently. You looked up, smiling a little as you were left face to face with the one and only Gareth Emerson. “You okay? Don’t want you getting hurt before we go on stage and perform, now, do we?” He asked, a small smile on his face as your face flushed from being so close to him.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, looking at him with a similar smile on your face. “I’m perfect, thanks,” you added, loosening your grip on his biceps before you nodded slightly. “Just perfect…”

“Anything for you, princess,” Gareth nodded, slowly releasing his hold on you. “I should go get ready and make sure everything is all good for our set. But, uh, I’ll see you around?” He asked, you nodded and smiled, biting your lip softly. “Oh, and good job; you sounded amazing out there… you’re a natural.” He smiled before he turned around and made his way towards the stage, leaving you to watch his every move this time as he walked away.

tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @the-unforgivenn ; @keeryhours ; @fan-maddson ; @hotgirlsshareaccounts ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @losingmygrasponreality ; @ilovecupcakesandtea ; @pupwrites ; @the-lurking-await-you

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byhees · 2 years ago

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when confessed to first.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 500 genre fluff potential friends2lovers love-struck non-idol au warnings not proof-read — more

a/n. blank

heeseung would be a really, really flustered. it’d just come out of nowhere; like, just before hanging up on a phone call, you’d suddenly say “i love you”, leaving the call before he’s able to respond. would replay your words in his mind— you said ‘love’ right? not ‘like’? as in, you have romantic feelings for him? forget sleep, he’d stay up all night. would probably think of ways to show his mutual feelings…

jay would be confused— but not in the ‘erm, i don’t feel the same, so this is awkward’ kind of way, but in the ‘HUH AM I HEARING (or rather, seeing) THIS RIGHT’ kind of way. how could you mouth “i love you” from across a crowded room, flash a sheepish grin, and disappear into the masses? would probably be frozen in his spot, a mirage of emotions flooding into his body. one thing’s for sure, he’s dying to say the words back…

jake would actually be super super elated, right off the bat. like, leaving a romantic, long letter professing your love for him? after he’s hidden his own feelings for, what felt like, decades? instant mood booster. is so ready to dash off in search of you, hoping that you hadn’t gotten the wrong idea; he’ll say the words, “i love you too, yn” anytime, like a song on repeat…

sunghoon would pause— his speech, his movement, everything. it’d be so quick, so fleeting, and so straightforward. would probably take a second to recollect himself, before pulling you into his embrace, whispering a small, “i am so very in love with you, yn”. wide wide grins, as you two bask in one another’s warmth…

sunoo would blink very very slowly in an attempt to process things. OHHH, so you wore his favourite colour, brought him to his favourite cafe, and showed him this awesome sunset view, as a confession scheme? how could he be so oblivious? would immediately pull you into his arms, mumbling a soft, “i love you, too. so much.” interlacing hands, and hearing stories of all your previous confession attempts, causing him to go into a state of late realisation…

jungwon would probably freeze in surprise; yes, he was still wide awake when you were tracing the message “i love you” on his bare skin. probably would continue to lay his head on his forearms, hoping that it’d conceal the growing blush on his cheeks. it’s practically impossible for him to sleep, when his heart’s beating at forty kilometres per hour— you’re everything to him. although he’s itching to spring up and say the words back, he feels far too shy to do so. hopefully the right moment comes soon…

riki would start being all smiley; he’d pat your head gently, ruffling your hair ever so slightly. in all honesty, you’re kind of obvious— he hasn’t seen anyone use codenames, while gawking at the person of context. would have noticed your longing stares at his direction, as well as the unsubtle dust of pink across your cheeks. finds the confession really cute, actually. says a little, “took you so long to confess, love”, whilst smiling wholeheartedly at you…

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sp22sworld networks! @kflixnet @enhanet

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jadewritesficshere · 2 years ago

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Painting

Modern!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Contains: nudes, mutual masturbation, phone sex

18+ only

Eddie flopped face down onto his mattress with a sigh. After working all day, playing at the Hideout, and then hauling all of the bands' equipment, he was wiped. He wanted nothing more then to smoke and go to sleep. His phone pinged with a notification. A contact under the name "Loser" had messaged him, causing a split second of confusion before a lazy grin spread across his face when he realized it was you (he had forgotten he changed it when high). You had been unable to come see Corroded Coffin play tonight as you had made previous plans.

Loser: How did it go?? Good?? Bad??

Loser: Was that one chick who wants to be a groupie there??

Eddie: went ok. Y u jealous?

Loser: just curious lol

Eddie: sure. Wbu?

Loser: Good! Robin and Nancy came. We had a nice dinner. We did paintings! Robin's looks better then mine. Mine looks like shit 😔 now just taking a bath and relaxing.

Eddie: show me?

Loser: lol no???

Eddie: y not? I'm sure it good

Loser: you sure?

Eddie: yes

Loser: fine

Eddie doubted your painting looked bad. You always tore yourself down, even when you did amazing things. He always wanted to throttle you, but knew he would be a hypocrite if he did. Eddie rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. He would convince you one day that you were awesome, but until then he would just have to keep reminding you. His phone dinged with a new message from you. He opened it and saw a picture attached and-

Immediately dropped his phone. His heart picked up speed. His eyes widened and face flushed. Eddie dove for the phone as if it were a life preserver and he was drowning. He couldn't believe his eyes. He licked his lips and stared at his phone.

A picture from your neck down. Bubbles in the bath around you. Water was running down your collarbone towards your tits. Your nipples barely covered by the bubbles. One boob having no bubbles around it at all, but your hand flipping him off blocked him from seeing more. He was greedy. He wanted to see more, and had never imagined you would send him this to begin with. Eddie looked down at the tent that had formed in his boxers.

Loser: ask nicely next time 😤

Eddie groaned and his dick twitched. You had totally misunderstood him, he had wanted to see your painting- of course he was more then glad for this outcome. However, he couldn't quite unsee what you had sent, nor would he want to. Eddie reread your text. Next time means more than just this once. Means maybe he could see more. Means maybe he has a better shot with you then he thought. He already overthought things with you many times, and now his brain had just switched to overdrive.

A million thoughts ran through his head as his hand traveled south. He paused briefly," Oh fuck it." He grabbed his dick over his boxers, causing the outline to be very noticeable. He took a pic before sending it to you. He would have felt bad about not sending a message with it, but he would have sat there for ages trying to think of a response. And he couldn't find it in himself to care as he pressed lightly against his dick.

He dropped his phone on his stomach. All Eddie could think about was you as he pulled his dick out of his boxers. Your soap covered tits. How beautiful they looked.. He licked his hand before slowly grasping his dick and squeezing the base, causing the tip to flush more. The pressure causing him to moan. He slowly stroked up and down his length. He picked up the pace, canting his hips up to meet his hand. Part of him wanted to go slow, but the rest of him wanted to get this over with quick so he could do it again and again and again. His chest heaved and sweat started to form on his brow. A sigh fell from his lips that quickly turned to a moan at the thought of it being your hand wrapped around him. How small your hand would look on his dick. How-

His stomach tensed and he jolted as his phone started vibrating and your ringtone played. The vibrations on his lower stomach felt so good, he was tempted to let it keep playing, but the urge to hear your voice was stronger. With his free hand he grabbed the phone and answered. "H-hello?" Eddie asked, panting into the phone. "Oh fuck, Eddie," your voice higher than normal sounded like music to his ears. Eddie moaned and your response was a whimper. "Fuck babe, see what you do to me?" Eddie's voice felt like sandpaper, he was surprised he could even find words. "Uh-huh." The sound of water splashing caught Eddie's attention," holy shit. Are you touching yourself?" "Wish it were you."

Eddie's mind went fuzzy as he picked up speed. The schlick noise picking up, his mind filtering out everything except your moans. "Sound so good. Wish I was there." Eddie mumbled, feeling his tip leaking generously. He was so close. "Fuuuck Eddie I'm gonna-" your sentence was cut off with a moan and he lost it. His hips bucked without rhythm and cum spurted everywhere. He never understood the phrase of people seeing stars behind their eyes until now, but they were more like fireworks. He had never cum this much in his life, not even when he had first found porn.

He slowly came back down, a euphoric feeling enveloping him. A warmth spread in his chest as it heaved, trying to catch a breath. He looked down and saw his shirt covered with his release. Your chuckle pulled him back to earth. "Uh so that happened...so whatcha gonna do about it Munson?" He hummed," Think i should ask you for a date." "You should."

Eddie had the biggest grin when you finally got off the phone, date planned for Friday night. He looked down at your contact name before changing the s to a v. He was going to find that painting you did and make sure it hung over his bed, so he could remember this night forever.

#Eddie eventually tells you about the misunderstanding and you just become more and more embarrassed #You asked him to delete the pic out of embarrassment and he goes on and on about how it is art and how beautiful it is and refuses #He later comes back to you and tells you if you want him to delete it he will and you just laugh and tell him to keep it #He agrees tho that your painting does suck to which you say “yeah I do” and give him a pointed look and he doesn't catch on #Until you huff and grab him and look him in the eyes and flat out tell him what you're offering #Shoutout to my friend who did this to me (it was a clothed pic tho) and I went BRO? and immediately clarified #But it started this thought and it wouldn't shake me loose until I wrote it so here yall go #Idk how to end things and idk how to write smut so take this and do with it as you will #My dumbass over here getting too lost in my own mind to write well fjdjsls #Eddie Munson #Modern!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson/reader #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson/you #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x female!reader #Stranger Things #Also Eddie absolutely uses only text speech and you get frustrated with it #Jade is Talking

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deancasbigbang · 3 months ago

Text

Title: Highly Unprofessional

Author: seidenapfel

Artist: Sasanka-27

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 23000

Warnings: N/A

Tags: Professor Castiel, College Student Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Castiel is Jack Kline’s Parent, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues

Posting Date: November 4, 2024

Summary: On his first day of college, Dean feels like a fish out of water. After years of working his ass off with several jobs at once to fund his brother’s studies, his family and friends have decided to pay him back. That’s how he finds himself panicking in the lecture hall. Thankfully, a fellow student distracts him. She promptly becomes a good friend, and Dean has no idea how badly he will need her. The moment he lays eyes on his physics professor, Dean is lost. Castiel Novak seems like the man of his dreams. And when the professor’s son appears from under the podium, several lives take an unsuspected turn.

Excerpt: “Oh, fuck you,” Dean grouched, though he couldn’t help but grin. “No, thank you,” Charlie shot back without heat. “You’re not my type.” “Ouch.” Charlie chuckled, rolling her eyes. “As in, you're not a girl.” “Oh. Oh…” Taken aback, Dean was lost for words. Silently, he observed her in a new light. Of course, his reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Charlie sat up straight — or as straight as she could sit, given that she… Dean winced internally. Goddammit, Winchester! Get your shit together. A frown covered Charlie’s brow. “That a problem?” she asked coldly. “Uh… No?” Dean gulped as she glared at him, a hand on her bag, ready to leave. Finally, his main drive kicked back in. “Fuck, no. No, no, no. That’s… that’s awesome,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his head. The wary look on Charlie’s face was replaced by a broad smile, and Dean relaxed. “Saved by the bell, bitch.” Charlie nudged him. “And you got to know, there’s nothing wrong with working and saving up before being able to go to college. Actually, it’s kind of awesome that you’re here.” “That’s not—” Dean started to object, but then he shrugged. She didn’t need to hear his sorry life story. Instead, he offered his hand. “Dean.” “The dean? Head of the college? That at least explains your advanced age,” Charlie quipped, a twinkle in her eyes. “Oh, shuddup,” Dean muttered, earning him another chuckle. Before Charlie could answer, though, someone cleared their throat. The entire lecture hall fell silent at once, except for two idiots in the last row who were still wrestling on their seats. Somewhere, a girl laughed, but everyone else kept their mouths shut. And then, a voice pierced through the silence. “Gentlemen.” Goosebumps erupted all over Dean’s body at that sound and a shiver ran down his spine. That voice was doing things to him. Fuck! Slowly, he turned his eyes to its source and froze. There, behind the podium, stood the most breathtaking man Dean had ever laid eyes on. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence,” the man went on with a snide remark when the tumult stopped before addressing the crowd. “Good morning. Now that we can finally start, I’m really impressed how many of you joined me this term. A physicist talking about comparative religion and science is not everyone’s cup of tea. But keep in mind that many of our predecessors studied both. Back in the day when scientists didn’t have to specialise.” He paused. “Even though I have to admit, the cryptid part in the class’ description might have sold it…” The lecture hall erupted in laughter and Dean was too mesmerised to look away. Hanging on the professor’s lips, he was hooked, especially after he got a name a moment later. Castiel Novak was not what Dean had expected. Whatever Sam had told him about college whenever Dean hadn’t tuned him out — nothing could have prepared him for the lecture he was just experiencing.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2024 #fic preview #2024 promo #deancas #destiel

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 years ago

Note

!!! List #75 prompts #7 and #9 with hyunjin, han AND the reader !! 🤭

SKZ PROMPT GAME

Prompts: "It's quiet. Too quie-" "HELLO IS ANYONE IN HERE?!"

"Great, guys. Real discreet."

Members: Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung

Relationship: Figure Skater!FemReader x Hockey Players!HyunSung

Genre: Fluff

"Remember, I'm only doing this because we have a mutual enemy."

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, and not for the first time, you think he might be the sassiest bitch you've ever met.

"Yeah, yeah. We get it, Ice Queen. Now will you focus please?"

You huff a breath and adjust your position, stretching as tall as you can to try and reach the window above your head.

Beneath you, Jisung huffs out a choked sounding breath, and you feel him shift, trying to keep you both steady.

"Fuck, I don't know how much longer I can hold you up like this. Hurry up up there!"

You scoff. "Aren't hockey players supposed to be buff or some shit?"

Jisung doesn't answer, grunting in effort as you wobble slightly in your position on his shoulders.

You can't help the smirk that crosses your lips as you fingers finally find the latch, and you push open the window with a triumphant little squeal.

"Got it."

You can practically feel Jisung sigh beneath you in relief.

Hyunjin does a slow, sarcastic clap. "Awesome. Now hurry up and get your ass inside."

"You know-" You retort, shifting upward on Jisung's shoulders once again, enough that you can pull yourself up and halfway over the open window ledge, looking back at the two boys on the ground. "-for someone who is relying on me for this whole plan to work, you'd think you'd be a little nicer."

Hyunjin flips you off, and you bite back a smug grin as they disappear from view, dropping down into the quiet, dark room on the other side of the window.

Crouching for a moment, making sure you can't hear anything besides your quiet breathing, you stand up and, brushing your clothes off, head in the direction of the front entrance, making quick work of the lock when you get there.

Moments later, Jisung and Hyunjin burst through the now open door, duffle bags slung over their shoulders.

They brush past you without so much as a word.

"You're welcome." You mutter sourly under your breath, as you follow them down the long, deserted hallway and toward the ice rink.

Pushing open the door that leads to the ice, Hyunjin pauses, glancing around the empty seats of the rink with narrowed eyes.

"It's quiet. Too quie-"

He's cut off by Jisung stepping boldly onto the ice, cupping his hands around his mouth as he turns in a full, slow circle, calling out loudly, "HELLO?? IS ANYONE IN HERE?!"

You roll your eyes as Hyunjin sighs and rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, Jisung turning back to give you both a triumphant grin as he shrugs.

"See? Totally empty. We're good."

"Oh my god." You huff out, stepping onto the ice to join him, as he slings his duffle bag down and unzips it, noisily rifling through the contents. "Let's just get this over with."

Jisung glances up from where he's crouched, eyes gleaming wickedly. "Don't tell me the Ice Queen has never done anything illegal before?"

You open your mouth to retort, but Hyunjin beats you to the punch, setting his own bag of supplies down next to his buddy as he gives you a narrow eyed glare.

"Of course she hasn't. What about "Little Miss valedictorian stick up her ass daddy's little girl figure skater" screams 'break the law' to you, Sung?"

You glare at him, hoping you can set him on fire with your eyes, and he gives you one last glower in return before crouching down to help Jisung finish pulling out the supplies.

"For your information-" You start, hands on your hips, eyes burning holes into their skulls. "-I've done plenty of illegal things."

"Oh yeah?" Jisung's eyes light up with interest. "Like what?"

Hyunjin tosses you a can of spray paint, and you narrowly avoid dropping it onto the ice at your feet.

"Well, like-" You retort sharply, words drying up as Hyunjin stands and levels you with a knowing look. You humph and turn away from them, muttering under your breath, "-lots of things that aren't your business."

Jisung stands, straightening and stretching, and steps to the center of the ice, wielding a can of spray paint in each hand, a wicked look in his eyes as he grins over at the two of you.

"All right then. Show us what you got."

He marks a bold, black line of paint down the center of the ice rink.

You watch as Hyunjin does a cross line with his bright red paint, and then you step up beside them, hesitantly making a long, sweeping mark of blue paint parallel to Jisung's.

You have to admit, it's kind of freeing in a way.

"That's it, babe. Just like that. Fun, huh?"

Jisung elbows you in some sort of comradery, and you almost smile, before you bite back the knee jerk reaction and glare at him.

Hyunjin finishes his first can of paint and tosses it back into one of the empty bags, fishing out another and tossing a second one to Jisung, who catches it easily.

You all work in silence for a little while, the only sound your shoes squeaking on the ice, the paint leaving the cans, and Jisung humming a stupid little ditty beneath his breath, and eventually, when the cans are all empty, you step back and admire your work.

You have to hand it to you, it's pretty well done.

You've managed to paint your school's mascot onto the rival college's ice rink, complete with some messy line work around it, and it's not half bad. It'll definitely get the message across.

Jisung comes to stand beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders, and you don't immediately shrug him off, but you don't know why.

"Nice." He remarks, whistling under his breath.

Hyunjin approaches you both, throwing the last empty cans into the bags before zipping them, and glances up at Jisung.

"Did you put in the secret message?"

Jisung grins with an arch of his brow. "Of course I fucking did."

"Secret message-?" You start to ask, not really sure if you want to know, and then you see it, right in the middle of the crudely drawn mascot.

A penis and a 'fuck you' scrawled in Jisung's sloping handwriting.

You roll your eyes even as the man beside you snickers.

"Great, guys. Real discreet." You mutter, shaking Jisung's lingering arm off you before you stalk toward the edge of the ice, ready to put this whole night behind you.

Honestly, why you even agreed to help two dumbass hockey players in the first place, you'll never know.

Some shitty saying about an 'enemy's enemy' or some other bullshit.

You head for the front door you'd left unlocked, not even bothering to see if the two guys are following behind you, not really caring if they get locked in here honestly, and push out into the cold, middle of the night air.

It feels good, invigorating, in your lungs, and you're reminded of the first time you ever skated, back home on your parent's small, iced over pond.

You'd skated for the joy of it all back then, and you still do, but now, things are heavier, more time consuming, and there's always more pressure.

Part of growing up you guess.

Jisung catches up to you at the bottom of the sidewalk, jogging to reach your side, duffel bag slung back over his shoulder, the empty cans bouncing noisily as he runs.

"Hey, Ice Queen. Wait up!"

You don't look at him as you pull out your phone and check the time.

Fucking 2 AM. God, you're going to regret this tomorrow.

Jisung pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him, and you glare him down.

"What?" You snap, wrenching your arm from his grip, ignoring the warmth of his fingers through your long sleeved shirt. "Why are you still following me? Don't you have stupid hockey things to do?"

You glance over his shoulder, but you don't see Hyunjin.

Jisung ignores your jab, cocking his head as he stares at you, something unreadable coming across his dark eyes that only serves to annoy you more.

"Seriously, dude, can we fucking not-" You start to say, and Jisung interrupts you before you can get the rest of the sentence out.

"Do you want to skate?"

You stare at him, not quite comprehending where he's going with this.

"What?"

"Skate. You know. The thing you seem to love so much?" Jisung mimes a triple toe right there on the sidewalk, and you almost laugh.

"I skate every day." You offer back, glancing over your shoulder, not really sure what he's getting at. "Every day after class at practice and then I-"

Jisung is shaking his head, and Hyunjin appears behind him now, his own duffle bag held in his hands.

"No, not for anyone else. Not for practice. I mean-" He glances over at Hyunjin who arches his brow and then back to you. "-do you want to skate? Right now? For you?"

You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but you have to admit, you're a little bit intrigued.

"What do you mean?"

Hyunjin holds up a set of keys between his fingers and gives you the first smile you've seen all night.

"C'mon, Ice Queen. Live a little. Let's go to the rink."

********************************************************************************

Jisung lets out a loud whoop from the ice, skating around in circles almost lazily, his head tilted back to the ceiling.

"I cannot believe we fucking did that!" He crows, making a figure eight as he skates backward along one of the walls.

You glance up from the bench where you're tightening your skates and roll your eyes at his antics, and you'll never admit it because it would kill you, but it's hot to watch him easily fly around the rink, as if he was born for it.

Hyunjin heaves himself up from the bench beside you with a grunt and picks up a stick before he calls out to Jisung, "Sung, heads up!"

Tossing the stick, Jisung catches it easily, pushing around a puck on the ice as Hyunjin skates over to join him, setting up a mock little scrimmage between the two of them at the far end of the rink.

You take the guards off your skates slowly, one by one, and then stand, stretching out your muscles for a moment before you step onto the shiny, smooth surface of the rink, the ice crisp beneath your blades.

It's like breathing, or riding a bike. Muscle memory immediately kicks in as you push off and begin doing slow, languid laps around the outside of the rink, easily dodging the hockey players and their errant puck.

You close your eyes as you loop back to the center of the rink and drop into a low spin, your arms tucked, your skates carving into the ice as you go round and round and round.

You come out of it perfectly, and immediately move in to a triple axel, and it feels good, to just skate in the quiet for once and let all your thoughts go silent.

You haven't done it in awhile, and you forgot how much you missed it.

You come out of the second loop and skate a figure eight, navigating backward around the rink for a moment before you slide to a stop, catching your breath.

You realize the boys' whoops and ribbing from before has died down, and the rink is quiet.

Glancing over, you see the two of them watching you from beside the net, Jisung leaning against the frame, clearly checking you out, boldly looking you up and down, and Hyunjin trying to be a little more discreet about it, playing with the puck at his feet as he flicks his gaze up and down to you.

"What?" You ask, and you feel lighter than earlier on in the night. You shrug and do a little spin, laughing. "Never seen a figure skater before, hockey boys?"

You're still spinning, when arms grab you around the waist and pull you into a broad chest, forcing you to a stop and making you give a little shriek of surprise.

It's Jisung, looking down at you with wide dark eyes and a stupid grin on his face, and your heart does a weird little skip in your chest.

"Not one as pretty as you, Ice Queen. That's for sure."

You can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks at his words, and you break from his grasp, skating backward away from him, even as he advances toward you, something wicked flashing in his eyes at your teasing.

"I'll make you a bet." You say, just because you can, and Jisung arches a brow in interest, still slowly skating toward you.

"I'll take it."

Your back hits the plastic of the side wall, and you huff out a breath, as Jisung cages you in, arms going on either side of you, staring down at you with something unreadable on his features.

"You don't even know what it is." You protest, voice coming out more breathless than you would have liked.

"I don't have to." He smirks, reaching out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Not when it comes to you."

You clear your throat and will your heart to stop pounding in your chest.

"You both learn a spin, and I'll let you teach me something hockey related."

Jisung grins, all wide and heart shaped. "Deal."

You skate back to the center of the rink, Jisung on your heels, and Hyunjin approaches, skating smaller and smaller circles until he comes to a stop in front of the two of you.

He arches a brow. "Well? Are you gonna show us or what?"

You roll your eyes, and drop into the easiest spin you know.

"See?" You straighten back up and put your hands on your hips. "Easy. Try it."

Hyunjin shoots Jisung a look, and the other merely shrugs, before trying to copy your movements.

He falls right on his ass.

You can't help it, you laugh, and he grins up at you from his spot on the ice.

"Coulda swore I had it."

You help him back up, and they both try again, until they've mostly got it right.

You do a little round of applause for them when they both manage it without falling down, and bite back a grin as you regard them.

"I'm impressed, I'll admit it. Didn't think you hockey players had it in you."

"Okay, that's it." Jisung growls playfully, grabbing you and dragging you toward the goal and abandoned sticks as you giggle. "Jinnie, grab a stick. It's our turn now, Ice Queen."

They place you in front of the goal, and Hyunjin offers you his hockey stick, Jisung coming in close behind you and wrapping his arms around you as he shows you where to properly place your hands on the worn, taped surface.

"Like this." His breath is warm on your skin and his voice low in your ear as he guides your fingers a little more to the right. "And then this." He adjusts a knuckle and nods against your shoulder in approval. "You're a natural, babe. A prodigy even."

You snort under your breath, and Hyunjin moves up to shove Jisung aside, taking his place.

"She hasn't even hit anything yet." He mutters under his breath, resting the sharp jut of his chin on your shoulder as he leans forward, and you resist the urge to shiver as his warm breath washes across the shell of your ear. "Okay, ready?"

You nod, trying hard to focus, and let Hyunjin guide the stick along the ice, tapping the puck in the direction of the waiting goal.

It barely touches the net, not enough force behind your hesitant first swing, but Jisung makes adoring crowd noises anyway and claps for you regardless, making you bite back another smile.

"And the crowd goes wild! Ice Queen! Ice Queen! Ice Queen!"

"You're not so bad, you know that, Ice Queen?" Hyunjin murmurs beneath the sound of Jisung's cheering for only you to hear, and you get the weird suspicion that he's not talking about hockey anymore.

It does something strange to the rhythm of your heart in your chest.

You all play around like that for a little longer, the boys helping you hit a few more pucks into the net, you teasing them about their spin formations, but eventually, you gather up your shit, take off your skates, and head for home.

Jisung is locking up the door of the ice rink behind you when Hyunjin steps to your side, glancing at you sidelong as he adjusts the strap of the duffle bag hanging from his shoulder.

"Wanna know something?"

You huff a little snort beneath your breath. "Not really."

Hyunjin gives you an amused look, and you have to force your breathing to remain even as his plush lips-have they always been that pink?-pull upward into the hint of smirk.

He gestures over his shoulder with his chin toward Jisung, who is swearing as he searches for the keys he dropped on the ground by his feet.

"He's been in love with you for like fucking forever."

You stare at him, jaw slack, and then swallow, clearing your throat.

Hyunjin shrugs, hands in his pockets, not looking at you, as he stares off into the dark night sky.

"Yeah. I told him it was a fucking pipe dream to get you to notice him, but the kid's a fucking romantic."

"So tonight-" You start to say, but are interrupted by Jisung appearing at your side, dropping the keys into Hyunjin's bag as he slings an arm around each of your shoulders.

"What're you two lovebirds talking about?" He glances between you and Hyunjin's unreadable expression, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Hyunjin shakes his head, shrugging off his friends arm as he heads toward the parking lot.

"Nothing, man. Absolutely nothing."

You're rooted to the spot for a minute, still mulling over Hyunjin's words, and Jisung whistles long and low beneath his breath, watching his friend disappear on the way to the car.

He turns to you, eyes glinting, and arches a brow.

"He'll never tell you this himself, babe, because manly hockey shit or whatever, but he's down so fucking bad for you."

You gape at him.

Jisung shrugs and starts off down the hill after Hyunjin, calling over his shoulder, "You coming, Ice Queen, or what?"

You shake yourself out of your daze and run after them before they disappear from sight.

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