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esote-rika · 5 months ago

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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: Smut 18+ MDNI

Summary: Teasing your virgin boyfriend was all fun and games, until he’s too worked up to function. When the layers of clothing fall off, you’re in for a delightfully large surprise.

Content: 3.2k words, virgin!Spencer, kinda sub undertones, he’s hung af and really fucking whiny, fingering, hand jobs, raw p in v but reader is on the pill, multiple orgasms, Spencer cries because he needs it so bad, reader wears lip gloss, dacryphilia (lemme know if I missed anything)

a/n: Truly just 3.2k words of filth. I wrote this instead of the next chapter for my thesis and I have no regrets. Also, a lot of my italicized words got lost because formatting on the app truly is the bane of my existence, but I reached a personal milestone and wanted to celebrate! So yay, here's a fic as a thank you for supporting my blog and writings ❤️

Sometimes dating Spencer Reid meant throwing subtlety out the goddamn window; the man wouldn’t know subtext if it hit him square on his beautiful, perfectly sculpted face. All your subtle attempts to seduce him have all been entirely unsuccessful, and you're beginning to wonder if he even wants you that way.

In your defense, you've been dating for over two months now and he still hasn't initiated anything beyond making out. It’s been making you antsy. Of course, his hesitation is nice. It comes from a place of respect after all, and there’s something endearing about his gentle touches, large hands ghosting over your body. You appreciate this easy, steady pace you've set for the relationship.

But after a particularly busy week for both of you, you've been left aching and needy for something more.

When you finally found a time that works for both of your schedules, you decided it would be time to make your move. Fuck waiting for him to initiate. You can do it yourself. You'd been subtle about it at first—a hand on his thigh, a few inches higher than where you'd normally place it, lips running over his jaw.

The man had simply laughed nervously, and returned with a kiss to your forehead.

Briefly, you wondered if it truly is because he's not into you that way. However, that thought flits right out of your pretty head when you see the unmistakable tent slowly forming in his pants.

So you’d upped your actions, nibbling at his earlobe in the middle of dessert, fingers trailing up his inner thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. Screw subtlety. (And hopefully, him too.) By the time you two sat in the back of the cab, he’s a squirming mess.

“S-stay the night?” he’d been so shy about it you debated teasing him a little more. Maybe if you weren’t so horny, you would have, but relief had simply flooded your veins. Finally. So you nod, teased him a little more in the back of the cab until he had to grab your wrists and hold them in place, because he swore he’d probably come in here just from one more brush of your palm. The lightest pressure and he’d be a goner, a pathetic mess, and you hadn’t even really done anything.

There had been no build up once you got into his apartment. Simply an exchange of quick, sloppy kisses, Spencer pushing you deeper into his house until the couch hits the back of your knees and both of you came tumbling down. He’s already rutting his hips against your thigh, his erection hot even through his slacks. Clumsy fingers strip off fabric and shoes, leaving them strewn haphazardly on his living room floor.

You had pushed him away then, grinning enticingly as you went to straddle his lap. You ground your hips in circular motions against his still clothed crotch, gasping as the obvious bulge gives you even more traction to rub on.

“No fair,” he whines, fingers leaving crescent shaped indents on your hips, “P-please stop teasing, you’ve been doing it all night.”

He’s so tightly wound it’s almost pathetic. He’s lucky you’ve some semblance of mercy left in your body, because you could probably come undone just from the friction that came by dry humping him. But you relent, sitting back on his thighs as you tug at his underpants.

“All right baby, since you asked so nicely.”

Thus exposing what’s going to be the small issue of the night.

Rather, the large issue.

His cock springs free and for a moment you just stare at it. Red, veiny, pulsing and huge. Larger than anyone you’ve been with, larger than even the toys that hide in that one drawer in your bedroom closet.

“W-what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You paled a little.”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips, “You didn’t tell me you were hung.”

His eyebrows scrunch, so ridiculously adorable you have to bite your lip to stifle another giggle.

“Hung?”

“Yeah, like, your dick is huge.”

Red blooms across his cheeks, “It’s - it’s certainly above average—”

“You know what the average length is?”

“I-in North America, yes.”

“I didn’t know you swung that way, baby.”

He groans, moving to hide his face into the crook of your neck, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know, I’m kidding.” You manage to shift and catch his head before he has a chance to press it to your neck. Your lips land on his, and he’s pushing his tongue inside your mouth sloppily. When you pull away for air, you add, “You’re just bigger than what I’m used to.”

“Is that bad?”

Is it? One hand wraps around the base of his cock, stroking up delicately, testing out the girth and the weight of him. He shudders, muscles tensing. His fingers dig into your hips. With a grin, you reply, “On the contrary, I think it’s exciting.”

You position yourself over him then, letting the blunt tip run up and down your slick folds. The friction makes you both shiver. Every single ridge and vein of his cock catches on your sensitive flesh, and you can’t help but start moving your hips up and down, rubbing your folds over the length of him.

“You’re - ah - so wet.” his tone is wretched with desire and awe.

“All for you baby.” You continue your ministrations, letting his length part your folds, the tip hitting your clit at certain angles. His cock is covered in your slick within moments and your poor boyfriend looks like he’s about to combust. You feel the twitch of his cock, the shift in the way he moves his hips—rocking up desperately against you—and you know he’s close. So you stop.

You’re rewarded by another whine.

“Please,” his grip is hurting you now, palms clutching handfuls of your ass. You don’t think he’s even aware of how tightly he’s doing it. “Please, I’m so—”

“Spence, do you really want to cum without even being inside me?” That shuts up his whining. “Mhm, didn’t think so.”

“Can I— please, just—”

“What?”

“Wanna touch you.”

Your lips tug into a smile. At your nod of assent, one of his hands let go of your ass to move to your pussy, the pads of his fingers quickly locating your clit.

“Fuck, Spence,” your head falls forward, forehead meeting his, “Faster, baby.”

He obeys, tilting his head forward to capture your lips. Your mouth opens to him, muffling your moans as you begin to move, shamelessly riding his hand. His finger finds your entrance, dipping shallowly, hesitantly, but you’re so wet that, with a quick thrust of your hips, the digit slips all the way in.

Spencer pulls away from the kiss to watch, the pupils of his eyes nearly eclipsing the ochre irises as your pussy swallows his finger greedily. Transfixed, he adds another finger and it’s your turn to squeeze and mark up his alabaster skin with crescent marks.

“Yes,” you groan, gasp, writhe in his lap as his fingers curl and find the sweet spot inside you, “Oh god, Spencer, yes!”

He’s entranced as he pumps his fingers in and you, mouth hanging open as your pussy parts and accepts his fingers so prettily. To reciprocate, your hands—plural, yes both hands—wrap around his cock, starting a slow, lazy pace. That throws his rhythm off, fingers stilling inside you.

“Keep going,” you urge him, hands slowing to a stop as well, “Spencer.”

He whines, hips bucking up into your palms, but something in your voice seems to set him straight. Fingers thrust in and out of you again, long and elegant and stretching you for what’s about to come. Satisfied, you pump your hands over his cock again, twisting them every time you motion up, and squeezing as you go down. It doesn’t take long for him to fall apart, his cock twitching before cum shoots from the tip. Because you’re straddling his lap, it makes a mess and lands on both of you—his stomach, your chest, some even on your hair.

“Oh god,” he’s whining again, embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I’m so—”

You silence him with a kiss, still stroking him, as your hips move over his hand. His brain manages to work, curling inside your fluttering walls. The movements are messy, uncoordinated as you chase your orgasm and he struggles to catch up. A whine leaves your lips, soft and needy. Something about it must trigger the neurons in his beautiful brain, make him remember you have the perfect bundle of nerves being neglected and he has more free fingers.

With a slight shift, he presses his thumb to your clit.

“Fuck, baby, yes!” you cry out breathlessly, head falling forward on his shoulder.

“Good?” he asks, increasing pressure on that sensitive nub. Small, quick circles. You wonder when he became so dexterous.

You nod, thighs clenched and quivering as your climax nears, the pleasure in your stomach building and coiling into something white-hot and— “Oh, Spencer!”

His other arm wraps around your waist, crushing you to him as he helps you through your orgasm. In the steady comfort of his arms, the rocking of your hips slow to a stop. You feel his lips at your temple, not really kissing the spot, just resting there. Heavy breaths rifle strands of your hair.

“Oh god,” he sighs, fingers slipping out of you with a pop, “Angel, that was amazing.”

You straighten up, grinning, “We're not done yet.”

“No?”

Eyes dart down suggestively, and his gaze follows to his own lap. Still completely erect, his cock lays flat against you, heavy and pulsating. “No, I think I need to take care of you a little more.”

“Y-you don't have—”

But you've already lifted yourself to your knees, fighting through the quake in your thighs, in order to position the tip of him at your slick entrance. His hands return to your thighs, nails clamping down on your skin.

“But I'm not— condom—”

How cute, he can barely speak. You grin, press a chaste kiss to the dimple on his cheek. “I'm clean. And on the pill.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

It's more than okay, actually. You're too shades shy of being desperate for his cock to split you open, but you're not sure if he'd survive hearing that sentence so you say, “Of course it is baby. Unless… you want me to stop?” If he catches the hint of insecurity in your voice, he doesn't show it.

Instead, his head is shaking no, vigorously, lower lip jutting out in a pout.

You smile, and kiss it away, “Okay then. I'll go slow, okay?”

You'd meant it as an empty warning. Really, there's nothing more you want than to impale yourself down on him and ride him like there's no tomorrow. However, as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, as the blunt tip breaches your entrance and spreads your walls, you realize that going slow is probably more of a necessity.

He's big. Almost uncomfortably so.

One sharp exhale from your lips and he's suddenly looking at you in concern, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” you gasp, although the furrow in your brows suggest otherwise.

“You don't have to—"

“Hush, baby, I just need a moment.” You say, forcing yourself to relax and take more. The broadest part of his head pushes through, stretching you wider than you've ever been. Soft, keening sounds fill the air. It's hard to know which came from you, or from him.

You look up, and laugh when you realize Spencer's skin is dappled with large red splotches. He's staring at where the two of you are connected, his cock barely fitting inside you. With a deep breath, you roll your hips around, trying to get used to the feeling. He whines again, his torso falling back onto the cushion, “Oh my god,” he gasps, lower lips trembling, “Oh my god, please.”

“Need you to be patient for me, Spence.” you mutter, dropping down a little more. You place one hand on his thigh for balance, while the other wraps around the base of his cock, stroking him to give him some relief. The greedy bastard bucks up, involuntarily, and you hiss as another inch pushes into you before you're ready.

“Spence!”

“Sorry, I'm sorry! Just - oh god, oh god, please, oh did I hurt you?”

And then it happens. Something glimmers on his cheek as it catches the light. And then another. And again, this time on the other cheek. Your hand leaves his thigh to grasp his chin, tilt his head up.

Your boyfriend is crying. Splayed out on the couch, cushions embedded by the sharp joints of his elbows from where he's propped himself up. He's looking up at you with glimmering liquid gathered on the rims of his lashline. Dripping down his cheeks, only to be replaced by another bout.

“Baby,” You sigh, pouting as you lean down. Soft lips catch his tears, leaving sticky residue on his cheekbones from the remains of your lip gloss, “It's okay.”

Another sob. Large teardrops crawl down his chiseled face.

Knowing that it’s your fault makes a feeling of power surge through you. “You’re so pretty like this, Spence.”

“Angel, please—”

The sight of his tear streaked face does something to you, your walls relaxing and fluttering as you manage to accept another inch down. His reaction is instantaneous, nails sinking into your hips, head falling back. “No, no,” you say, hand coming to the back of his head, tilting his head forward again, “Look at me.”

Tear streaked and hazy eyed, he manages to keep his head steady in order to maintain eye contact. It’s a little sick, the way this turns you on, but it allows you to sheath his cock further in.

You lift yourself up, until only the tip remains notched inside you, and his cock gleams with the evidence of your arousal. With a smile, you sink down again, walls fluttering as you take him deeper, until you have about three fourths of his length buried inside you and he’s little more than a puddle.

A hiss escapes your lips, brows knitting from the stretch. It isn’t just that his length is impressive, it’s that he’s thick too, splitting your pussy open. But now he's buried more than halfway through, giving you enough room to lift yourself up, and sink down again.

You count that as a victory.

He groans, muscles tensing, and you know he's desperately trying not to buck up and meet your movements. With a small smile, you lean close, forehead resting on his. Large, honeyed eyes stare back up at you, still glassy with tears. You repeat the same motion of your hips, moaning as you feel every single ridge and vein of his cock straining inside your walls.

“Feel good?” you murmur, swiping a stray teardrop with your thumb.

“Mhmm,” he nods, breath hitching as your movements grow steady. The sting remains, but it's grown dull now that you’ve gotten more used to the size of him.

“Oh god, baby, why haven't we done this sooner?” you whine as you rock on top of him, enjoying the fullness of having him inside of you. The question is rhetorical, but he's in absolutely no state of mind to answer. His hands grip your hips tightly as he sniffles, unable to do anything else except enjoy the ride you're giving him.

Praises leave your lips, murmured in tones cloyingly sweet and half mocking.

“Crying over sex, you're so lucky I'm so into you.”

“You look so pretty with tears in your eyes baby."

“Never had pussy this tight, haven't you?”

That last one rips another sob from him, because you know this is his first, that you're making a mockery out of something significant for him. So you soothe with a kiss, and whispers of “I'm sorry, it's okay, you're doing so good, you feel so good.”

You punctuate it by moving faster, your pussy thoroughly comfortable and so wet that there's barely any struggle to bounce on his dick. However, you're still careful, still unable to take him all the way in. You figure it's something you both can work up to, something for the future. The thought makes you smile.

Besides he doesn't seem to mind, moaning beneath you as you ride him. He seems to have lost all ability to articulate himself, instead just staring at you with red, tear filled eyes and a slack jaw. It makes you giggle, the way he looks so utterly fucked out.

You clench around him, walls tightening sharply, sending sensations that make the two of you gasp.

“I-I'm so close.” He manages to say, his hands now helping you, guiding your body as you impale yourself over his cock again and again, “Please, I'm so—”

“I know, baby, I know, you can come.”

His eyes squeeze shut, and his voice is especially strained when he asks, “Inside?”

You tug his hair teasingly, and his kids flutter open again. With a grin, you confirm, “Inside.”

A few more thrusts and he's gone, crying out, squirming desperately beneath you as spurts of his cum paint your walls. You don't stop, riding him continuously as you chase your own release. Thick, creamy liquid drips from your pussy and down the base of his cock with every movement.

He sobs even more.

“Touch me,” You whisper, pleading, “Spence, please baby, I'm so close.”

His fingers are at your clit in an instant, rubbing hasty circles as your pace grows erratic and sloppy.

“Please,” He gasps, looking up at you with glassy, imploring eyes, “Please I wanna feel you come.”

Your body seems attuned to his desperate pleas, because as soon as those words leave his lips, your pussy clenches around him so tightly you both yelp in surprise. He doesn't stop his ministrations on your clit, helping you through your orgasm until you're panting. For the second time tonight, you collapse against him, face buried at the crook of his neck.

“My god.”

He laughs, breathless, “My god indeed.”

He shifts, moving slowly so he doesn't jostle your boneless frame too much. There's a hiss from you as he slowly pulls out. You find yourself clenching around nothing, feeling oddly empty after such an intense fullness.

Silence wraps around both of you, heady and languid. His fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp. Soft intimacy after a whirlwind of lust.

And then he breaks it, so achingly sweet it almost makes you cry, “I'm sorry that I hurt you.”

“Mhm?”

“Earlier,” He clarifies, lips finding your shoulder and staying there. His voice becomes muffled and sheepish, “When I thrust up.”

“I didn't think you'd remember that.” You tease, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at his curls.

“I've an eidetic memory, remember? I remember everything.” He laughs too. Relief makes his voice sound lighter. “I never want to hurt you.”

“You didn't,” You reassure him, “Well - okay, a little bit, but it's fine. I don't think you meant to.”

“Of course not,” He hums, lips traveling up your neck, “But I'll be more careful next time.”

“Next time huh?”

“Mhm,” Teeth on your jaw. Playful, teasing. “Next time.”

It sounds like a promise. You know he intends to keep it.

This was a request by @mggslover lol I forgot to add up top oh well

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gothicmisty · 22 days ago

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Havin' his baby

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | ao3 | masterlist part 2

summary: "I'm pregnant." His face. His totally normal face that was there seconds ago. It goes blank. White as a ghost. Joel blinks once. "You're what?" "It's yours," you blurt out, panicking. "I haven't been with anyone in awhile, and you were the last person..." The one in which you are pregnant with Joel miller's baby.

authors note: so, apologies in advance. this is a prologue of sorts. there won't be some smut for a while. i wanted there to be a bit of build up at first. i imagine reader is like 30s. but you can make her younger. but i still hope everyone enjoys!! tags: MDNI, pregnancy symptoms, implied age gap, joel is older, reader can be anywhere between 28 and mid 30s. reader is not described in this just that you have breast and long enough hair(eventually), no use of y/n, lots of pregnancy in this one. strangers to lovers vibes, pregnancy test. mention of being a mother, mentions of ultrasounds. tommy is in a few seconds of this. tbh, this can be either game joel or show joel. word count: 3.2k

The morning felt worse than the few before. You had woken up in the middle of the night more than once–not ‘cause you couldn’t sleep, but ‘cause you couldn’t shake that feeling of anxiety in your stomach all night.

The clock beside your bed says 7:45. Small bits of sunshine slip through your cheap not-so-great curtains. The summer heat in Texas. God. And your shitty lack of air conditioning wasn't helping you feel any better.

You sigh.

Not because you spent most of the night tossing and turning. But for the first time in a year, you missed work. Not just a day. An entire week. You had to get a substitute to cover most of your days.

Teachin’ life and what not.

You were sick. Nauseous. Your head was killing you. At first, you chalked it up to some bad leftover chinese you’d had. But by the second day?

You told yourself it was just from being around kids. Kids carried all kinds of germs. Practically little petri dishes, never washing their hands.

By day four. Most definitely, you were gaslightin’ yourself. Telling yourself it wasn’t anything serious. Until you realized your period never showed. You were never late. Never. Always right on time.

Instead of staying in bed. You drove all the way to the furthest pharmacy from your house that you could find. You didn’t want to run into a single person you knew.

Truth was, you’ve never had a pregnancy scare in your entire life.

Not even when you were a reckless teenager fuckin’ around with Billy Davis behind your parents back. Or that long term boyfriend you had up until last year, Jesse.

Never even needed to look at a test. But there is a first time for everything, you suppose. You looked over all the boxes.

How in the hell were there so many different brands? Different kinds? Some had two pink lines. Some had a blue plus sign. What is the difference between a digital one and a regular one?

You pick up the digital box. Flipping it over. Reading the words slowly. Was there really a need to know six days early when you already were a week late?

This was all…confusing. You feel it too. How drained you are. Filled with so much anxiety that this is real. You are really standing in the middle of a pharmacy because you might actually be pregnant.

So, you do the only thing you can think of. You buy six different ones.

‘Cause there was no way six tests could all lie to you, right? No way one of them could give you a different result.

The drive home was terrible.

Maybe it’s the car making you feel sick. The Texas heat since the air conditioning in your car also sucked too. Or maybe it’s just… really all of this.

After an awkward run in with Mrs. Sims on your way into the house and fifteen minutes of standing in the bathroom. Six pregnancy tests are spread out in front of you.

The first four are the easy ones, the kind with the little lines. Two pink lines on the first two. A large square pink plus sign on the other set. Positive.

The digital ones were next. Ninety-nine point nine percent accurate. The first one you pick up has a smiley face on it.

Like that’s supposed to make you happy. Instead of making you want to cry on your bathroom floor.

The second digital one just confirms your fate.

Pregnant.

Six different tests. Six different ways of telling you that you’re definitely expecting.

Having a mental breakdown about being pregnant wasn’t exactly on your to-do list today. Not ever.

There’s no pep talk you can give yourself. Tell yourself that everything is gonna be just fine. You’re not happy. You aren’t exactly devastated. You are just numb.

The handbook of life never taught you how to react when you’re finding out you’re pregnant. Especially when this wasn’t part of the plan. Any plan.

The details from that night aren’t really there. You remember the bar. You remember goin’ into his house.

You’d only gone out to that rundown bar a few streets over because of Rebecca, your college friend. Who wouldn’t stop complaining you never went out. Never enjoyed life outside of work.

Girls’ night, she called it.

But you’d seen him. Your neighbor. Joel Miller.

You barely know him. He lives across the street. Waves back at you when you’re getting the mail. Greets you with that southern drawl. Says, “Mornin’.” Helps with things occasionally.

He’s always working. Has a daughter in college. Not that you ever saw her, or paid much attention to what was across the street.

Joel Miller hadn’t been much of an interest to you. Not until that night.

That night he was sitting by himself on a barstool. At the same bar you were at.

He’s older. Dark greying hair. Hazel eyes. Spends more time looking ahead than looking at you. Which was a change for once.

After two hours, it turned out you had a lot more in common than you would’ve thought. Both of you like older music. Spent half the night talkin’ about old records alone. Your friend? She was long gone. You’d practically ditched her to talk to someone else. So, Joel offered you a ride home.

When you got back to his house. The night faded away. You had a few more drinks. But, so did he.

But you. You kissed him first. Drinkin’ and makin’ terrible choices was a thing that happened to you before. That’s why you never liked to drink. But on his couch, in his living’ room, you made the first move.

From there? It was nothin’ you can remember.

You didn’t talk after that. Not really. You had to leave early for work, and Joel? He was in the shower when you snuck out. Not your proudest moment pickin’ up pieces of your clothes. Heading back home.

The two of you would occasionally wave. And smile. The same polite nods you’d given each other before. But weeks went by, and now. You’re staring’ at six positive pregnancy tests on the counter wondering where this all went wrong.

You weren’t on birth control. It’s not like you remember much of what happened that night.

That feeling of needing to throw up already started creeping’ back. You’ve barely kept down crackers and ginger ale wasn’t helping either.

And now, you’re back on your knees. Throwing’ up into the toilet again.

You’re pregnant with Joel Miller’s baby. Something you never thought would happen in a million years. But here you are.

It’s been over two weeks since you found out. Three days since you went to the OBGYN. Who confirmed what six home pregnancy tests already told you.

The first appointment was how you expected it to be. Normal. As normal as it could be. You were alone. Too scared to break the news to Joel yet.

You discussed your options. Which you had spent way too much time thinking about. Eventually you decided that you were gonna keep it. Even before the appointment.

The doctor talked to you about what to expect. At almost nine weeks.

How the nausea might last until twelve weeks. Maybe longer.

“Every woman is different. Experiences different symptoms,” she said.

She gave you some suggestions. How you can take something called B6 to help. A few home remedies that you could try. Even a wristband that you could put on a pressure point.

She sends you for a dating scan the next day. To confirm how far along you are. Though, by your blood work she estimates nine weeks. But you already knew.

You sit in the ultrasound room. The smell of those lemon scented bleach wipes filled the room. It was cold. Freezing. And the sweet ultrasound tech shows you your baby. A tiny little bean lighting up the black-and-white screen. You cry. Not because you’re upset…but because it’s real. All of it. A small part of it might be due to hormones.

They send you home with a photo. That flimsy photo paper. One small, tiny photo of your baby. Yours and Joel’s baby.

You’re back to work. Back to a room full of kids. Pretending that you’re okay. Pretending that Brenda’s lunch doesn’t make you a little sick. Or that really nasty coffee they kept in the teachers lounge. How was it possible that an off-brand made you nauseous? But the name brand didn’t? When you get home, you look across the street. His brown house. The porch lights off. His truck ain’t there. It rarely is. Maybe it was on the off chance he decided to take a day off.

You take out your phone. Pulling up his contact. Just Joel. The only text you’ve ever sent him is still sitting there. Not like you deleted your text messages.

It’s from over a year ago. Something about the school needing’ to hire a contractor.

You: Hey. You: Are you home?

You knew he wasn’t.

But you needed an excuse to talk to him. After all…you needed to tell him. This was his baby too.

Joel: Workin’ late tonight. You need somethin?

You leave him on read. But the truth was. You can’t avoid it forever.

Saturday morning, while you ate your breakfast. You decide it’s finally time. You leave early enough. Head to the construction site he mentioned he was workin’ at. It was a longer project. Said it would be weeks worth of work.

This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you break over a text message.

Hey Joel, so I’m pregnant.

That ain’t the best way to deal with this. You drive thirty minutes out there. When you stop the car, it hits you. God, it hits you hard. Harder than you thought it would. You almost talk yourself out of it. Out of this whole ridiculous plan while sitting in your car.

You shouldn’t do this. Can’t do this. What if he’s angry? What if he’s upset? What if you start crying ‘cause all these damn hormones racing through you?

You’ve never seen him angry. Never really been around him enough to know. He’s always been just… himself. Brooding. Seems lonely at times. Keeps to himself. But he’s always just…Joel.

The courage finally comes. You get out and walk toward the trailer. But Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, stops you.

You met him a few times. Over at Joel’s. He even stopped to talk to you once when Joel helped you fix a flat tire.

“You’re Joel’s neighbor, right?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, giving a small smile. “Is he here? Need to talk to him.”

Tommy nods towards the trailer. “He’s here. Had himself a day,” he mutters. “Reckon he’ll be glad to see a face that ain’t mine.” You swallow hard.

Walking toward the trailer. Do you knock? Just walk in? Why the hell do you feel like such an angsty teenager trying to decide all this?

But, you knock. Twice.

You hear his voice through the door and step inside. “Tommy, I ain’t in the mood to–” he starts, then stops when he turns and sees you.

You stood there. A tired smile on your face. “Shit, sorry,” he says, takin’ off his glasses. “Thought you were Tommy. He’s been ridin’ my ass all day.”

“He, uh…warned me you were havin’ an off day,” you say.

He shakes his head. “Ain’t nothin’ new.”

You are silent. Can’t say anything or maybe there isn’t anything you can think to say.

‘Cause his day was possibly about to get worse. Finding out he’s gonna be a dad again, and at work of all places, isn’t exactly the kind of news that’s gonna go over easily.

“What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?” he asks, voice low. “Don’t get a pretty girl showin’ up at my work too often. ‘Specially not a neighbor who didn’t even let me say goodbye.”

Fuck.

Panic starts to set in. A little bit of nausea too. Was it warm in here? Or are you about to pass out on the floor? Or worse, throw up for the one millionth time.

“Can I–um–sit?”

“Course,” Joel says, nodding toward the chair.

You sit in the old chair. It was metal. Wobbly. But you were fidgeting, picking at your fingernails. Tryin to will yourself to just say it. You take a deep breath.

“I’ve known for a while,” you mutter, looking at him. “Just didn’t….didn’t know how to tell you.”

Just say it. Rip the damn band aid off.

“I’m pregnant.”

His face. His totally normal face that was there seconds ago. It goes blank. White as a ghost. Joel blinks once. “You’re what?”

“It’s yours,” you blurt out, panicking. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while, and you were the last person…”

You don’t finish the sentence. Don’t know if you can. He goes quiet. You get it. You just changed everything in his life with two words.

It stretches on. That shocked look on his face. God knows how long ya’ll were sitting there for.

The tick of the clock on the wall. The sound of construction going on outside.

He lets out a slow breath. “Well, shit.” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Ain’t usually good with words, ya know that. Sure as hell ain’t right now.”

You don’t know where to start. If you should apologize. If you should stay quiet. This was such a difficult situation.

“If you don’t want to be–”

“No,” he cuts you off, quickly. “Ain’t like that, darlin’. Just surprised.”

He pauses. “Just strugglin’ to wrap my head around it right now.”

You get it. If someone dropped this on you at work. On a stressful, exhaustin’ day. You’d be losing your mind too.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact you’re pregnant.

“How sure we talkin’ here?” he asks.

“I went to the doctor,” you say. “No doubt about it.”

Joel sighs. Running a hand over his face. Fidgeting with a pen on the desk. “I know this is a lot all at once,” you murmur. “But it’s…happenin’. I’m keepin’ the baby but I don’t expect anythin’ from you, Joel.”

“We outta talk ‘bout this I get hom—”

But Joel’s cut off by the door slamming open.

“Hell Joel,” Tommy announces, steppin in, shaking his head. “Half the damn shipment’s missin’. Boys can’t do shit without it.”

“A’right,” Joel says, getting up from his chair. “I’m comin’.”

Tommy huffs. Muttering something as he slams the door shut behind him.

Joel looks back at you. Hand on the door. “We’ll talk more ‘bout this later.”

It’s been four days since you told him. Not like you’ve seen him. Not once. Every morning when you leave for work. His truck is already gone. You spent the whole day wondering. Did you screw up by telling him? Is this even something he’s gonna want in the long run? Maybe he doesn’t wanna be part of it.

Between the morning sickness and teaching first graders, it’s been rough. Hard to keep up during the day. You’re sleepy half the time and so fatigued. One cup of coffee was barely helping anymore.

Pregnancy makes it so you can only have one cup. No more. Limited caffeine.

It’s a shitty day without it. Not like you can remember the last time you had a normal one. You figure those don’t really exist in these first few months anyway.

But when you get home that night. Pulling into the driveway. He’s there.

Sitting on your porch steps. Black t-shirt with the construction logo on it.

Muddy boots. Jeans that are mostly worn and washed out.

“Hey,” you say, walking up to the steps.

Joel looks up at you with those hazel eyes.

“Know it’s been a few days,” he says. “Ain’t proud of that.” “I dropped a lot on ya,” you reply. “Sorry for that.”

You sit down next to him. It was something about it, sitting with him. Quietly on the steps. Lookin’ at the cars going down the street.

He rests his hand on your leg. “Ya doin’ a’right?” he asks. “Feelin’ sick or…any of that?”

Every single symptom seems to have creeped up on you. If there’s a checklist. You’ve got every fucking box ticked. But you don’t want him to worry. Don’t want him thinkin it’s his problem to fix.

“Mostly just not feelin’ great,” you admit. “End up gettin’ up in the middle of the night. Throwin’ up. Really, Joel, it’s okay–”

“You’re carryin’ my baby,” Joel says, eyes on you. “‘Course I’m gonna check on ya. Whether ya like it or not.”

My baby.

Words you didn't think you’d hear him say out loud. Words you weren’t so sure if you were ready to hear.

“I’m just…tired,” you mutter. “Ain’t got much energy between work and this.”

You two continue to sit on the porch.

Truth is, you don’t know much about him. He doesn’t know much about you either.

All you know is he’s guarded. Alone. Has a grown daughter you’ve seen maybe twice since you moved in.

Two people. Two strangers with completely different lives. And now…you’re having a baby. Together.

“I’ll tell ya,” he whispers. “Didn’t think I’d be doin’ the whole raisin’ a baby thing again.”

You never expected any of this either. Now you’re gonna be a…mother.

“I got an appointment comin’ up,” you say. “You can come with me. If ya want.”

“Yeah, darlin’,” he replies, squeezing your leg a little. “Ya just let me know when.”

Joel’s sweet. You’d expected him to be upset. Maybe even angry. But he surprised you. The way he handled it. The way he was trying his best at this moment. You reach into your bag. Pulling out the photo the doctor gave you. Handing it to him.

His calloused fingers take it. He looked down at the small black-and-white photo. Your name printed at the top. The tiny blob of the baby in the middle.

“Crazy, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “It really is.”

He goes to hand it back. But you shake your head.

“Keep it,” you say. “It’s yours.”

You stand up. Letting out a breath as you stretch. “I feel like I got hit by a damn truck. Gonna go lay down, Joel.”

If you sat there long enough. You could’ve fallen asleep right there on the porch steps. On his shoulder. With how damn tired you felt.

Everything felt like it was wearing you out.

You’re almost at the door when you hear him. “Sweetheart.”

You turn around.

“I’m here,” he says. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere. You need anythin’—you just let me know. Kay?”

“I know.”

The moment you close the door. You stand there. Waiting to hear his footsteps fade off the porch.

You wouldn’t trust anyone. Not really. Not in this situation. But for some reason, you decide to trust Joel Miller. Maybe for the first time in your life. You don’t feel alone.

taglist: @chewie-bars , @aquanatalie , @tupelomiss , @glitterspark , @missladym1981 , @pedropascalsbbg, @onlythehobi , @kungfucapslock , @streamermattsgf, @stories-we-read , @luciebisaku.

(if you wanna be added to the taglist, just comment here. I'm terrible at keeping track of stuff so this will help)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fics #joel miller/reader

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keets-writing-corner · 2 years ago

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Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

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tobiasdrake · 2 months ago

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Where do you fall on the "killing vs. not killing bad guys" argument? I know the debate is complicated and there's a lot of various factors for and against either side, so I wanna hear your take on things.

An intensely complicated subject that tends to get oversimplified on both sides of the equation. I generally don't like to take a "side" on this because I feel like the idea of there being "sides" on killing misses the point.

Unless you're talking about cold-blooded execution of a subdued foe, killing generally isn't a choice you get to make. It's a consequence of the choice you already made to use violence.

While arguments about killing villains exist beyond superhero comics, this is a particular way that they tend to happen in superhero media. Superhero stories depict their heroes as, effectively, SWAT teams. The Green Goblin is about to blow up Newark, so Spider-Man breaks in and smashes his face against a brick wall until he passes out.

Part of the fantasy is the idea that nonlethal violence is easy and reliable. After Spider-Man reduces the Green Goblin's HP to 0, a Windows menu pops up and says "Would you like to finish him?" Spider-Man boldly clicks "No" after every fight like the hero he is.

It allows fans to enjoy brutal takedowns of bad guys without having to reckon with the reality that when Batman brought an entire floor down on top of that guy's head, he probably didn't wake up in a hospital bed. Batman can throw a guy off a third story balcony and watch his knees crack as he hits the ground and the story assures you that he's fine. He'll just need a little stay in the hospital.

But realistically speaking, all of these guys would have body counts. Not because they were aggressively trying to murder, but because you don't really get the choice. It is extremely easy to kill someone and surprisingly difficult to nonlethally incapacitate them. The line between how much blunt-force cranial trauma will knock someone unconscious versus how much will kill them is extremely blurry and it moves.

There are less lethal ways of incapacitating someone than others. Obviously, tasing someone has a lower mortality rate than shooting them with bullets. But the only surefire way to uphold a Code of No-Killing is to not use violence as your problem-solving tool in the first place. And there's not a lot of de-escalation training going around the Avengers Mansion.

So it always just feels kind of self-delusional when superheroes brag about not killing people but their primary mode of problem-solving is to shoot a guy in the face with an exploding arrow or something. You're gonna kill people if you're Batmanning. Sorry, that's just the reality of violence. When you throw a guy off a roof, you don't get to choose what physics is going to do to that sack of meat and bone as it hits the ground.

Now, on the opposite end of the spectrum, should superheroes kill people on purpose? Uh. No. I don't want cops extrajudicially murdering whoever they don't like, and I don't want Batman to do it either. Due process exists for a reason.

Superheroes should not try to kill people. But they are going to kill people sometimes, because their hammer is violence and their stories are just excuses to pit them against nails.

"But the Joker always breaks out of prison." Yeah, but he also always comes back to life. If you can nitpick about genre conventions then I can too. Hell, often times you can't even redeem a villain without the next writer unwriting it and making them a bad guy again. At a metafictional level, there is rarely any way to truly do away with a popular villain.

But. Y'know. Let's talk about heroes who aren't fucking copaganda. In the broader fictional sense, should stories end with the hero killing the villain or shouldn't they?

This, again, has no simple Yes or No answer. It depends heavily on the themes being explored and what the villain is meant to represent.

We need to talk about the "demise" of the villain, which can be a literal death or it can be many other things. The primary function of the villain is to be wrong about something. To oppose the hero, who is right about something.

The villain holds bad ideas, bad beliefs, bad ideology. The hero may start out holding good ideas, or they may be something that the hero comes to over the course of the story. But by the time these two meet in the third act climax, they are meant to embody the two faces of the story's central thesis. Regarding whatever this story is trying to talk about, the hero is right and the villain is wrong.

Whatever form it takes, whether literal death or not, the demise of the villain is the final statement on their incorrect or even toxic beliefs. Which often does take the form of literal death because it's easy to write a comeuppance that way.

Luke Skywalker believes that there is love in his father's heart for him, and Emperor Palpatine is confident that Anakin is truly lost. But Luke's love for his family wins out and destroys Palpatine.

Scar is selfish, cowardly, and disloyal. Simba returns out of a sense of responsibility and loyalty to his people, coming clean to them and accepting his place among them. Scar tries to sell out the hyenas to save his own skin, as well as stabbing Simba in the back. For his treachery, the hyenas rip him to pieces; He is devoured by the very loyalties that he selfishly betrayed.

Obadiah Stane, the embodiment of war profiteering and the military-industrial complex, is literally consumed by the clean energy project that Tony wants to move the company towards instead.

Sauron underestimates the power of the small and meager folk, and believes wholeheartedly in Great Men of History. And so when Great Man Aragorn marches to his gates, he allows himself to become convinced that this is his true nemesis, his true rival, the threat he must face. This is the glorious battle that will decide the fate of Middle-Earth. And so he turns his eye away from the common folk that will be his undoing.

The villain's flaws, their toxic ideology, the things that make them the villain, are what their demise is supposed to be about. They can be consumed by their failings or undone by the hero's virtues, but either way, in a well-executed demise, a closing statement on the story's thesis is made.

But a well-executed demise doesn't necessarily have to be fatal, either. Like I've said, it can be things other than a literal demise. Sometimes it absolutely should.

In Civil War, Zemo is driven by an obsession for revenge. His homicidal retaliatory bloodthirst is a toxin that he infects both T'Challa and Tony with over the course of the story. Tony succumbs and has to be defeated with force, though Steve still demonstrates his strength of character by sparing Tony's life in the end even when the madness of the battle threatens to grip him too.

But it's T'Challa who delivers Zemo's demise. Not by killing him, but by making the choice to rise above vengeance. T'Challa breaks the shackles of Zemo's infectious vengeance and chooses mercy. And it's in this moment that Zemo's feelings, his cruelty, are opposed and vanquished by T'Challa's heroic virtue.

Firelord Ozai believes in the Social Darwinist ideology of Might Makes Right. He leads a culture where disputes are settled with deathmatches and believes it is his right to blanket the world in fire because he has the power to do so, and no one can stop him. Aang, by contrast, is a pacifist at heart because those are the values he was raised in; Values of a culture that Ozai exterminated, whose very last vestiges exist only in Aang's heart.

Ozai would kill Ozai and Azula, who often gets left out of this conversation. Because theirs is a culture where righteousness stands hand-in-hand with brute strength. Where who is right is decided by who is left standing when the dust settles, and who is a pile of ash. Aang defeats Ozai; By Ozai's belief system, Aang is stronger thus Aang is righteous and it is his Conqueror's Right to execute Ozai where he stands.

But Aang doesn't just beat Ozai; He rejects Ozai's way of life. He renounces the belief system of the imperialist colonizer and holds true to the belief system of a people they destroyed. While a simultaneous outcome plays out between Katara and Azula, as Katara similarly chooses mercy once she's obtained a position of power and control over Azula.

Special note also to Zuko who demonstrates that he actually cares more about protecting people than about winning his Glorious Deathmatch of Imperialist Honor. Which also serves as a rejection of Azula's beliefs that relationships are founded on fear and control. Zuko, too, rejects the belief systems of Ozai and Azula and warrants recognition. Ozai would never have taken a hit like that for Azula. Azula would never take a hit like that for Ty Lee.

It's this mercy that breaks the Hundred-Year War, destroying not the perpetrators of it but the very principles on which it is founded. This philosophical annihilation of Azula and Ozai's very understanding of strength and power is their villainous "demise", and weighs far more than just cutting their heads off and calling it a day ever could.

There is no correct answer to whether or not heroes should kill. What matters most is how the demise the writer chooses for the villain reflects upon the story's central ideas and thesis.

#writing

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tizeline · 3 months ago

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TSAU Season 1 Finale - Part 1

It's about damn time I go over the TSAU's version of the remaining season 1 finale, as well as episode 1 of season 2, so HERE WE ARE! I am too lazy to adapt the entire thing into a proper comic, especially considering several plot points remain rather unchanged from canon, so we're doing whatever this format is instead.

(You should read Cell Talk and Gearing Up before this if you haven't already)

But a quick recap, the Gearing Up comic ended with Draxum in the Dark Armour going up to the surface with Mikey to start with the whole conquering humanity thing. Raph and Leo have offically joined Team Good Guys and they, alongside Donnie, Splinter, April, Shelldon and Mayhem went after Draxum to stop his evil plans.

When they make surface, Draxum and Mikey have already started their rampage and are just kinda wrecking the baseball stadium. The Foot are also at the stadium, clearly still expecting The Shredder to show up or something. Team Good Guys (yes that's their name now) figure it's probably good to try to get whatever info about the Dark Armour they can so April and Mayhem teleport to where The Foot are to try to gather some intel that might help them in the fight against Draxum.

Meanwhile, the others start fighting Draxum and Mikey. Draxum is low-key kinda baffled that Raph just straight up switched teams lmao. Leo is one thing, but Raph has always been so loyal and responsible so it's real suprising that he's completely disobeying orders. None of the Draxum family members are really enthusiastic about fighting each other (except maybe Mikey he's kinda pissed at this point) but they engage in battle anyway. Donnie, Shelldon and Splinter are less hesitant about kicking Draxum's ass and don't really hold their punches lmao. Despite that they're kinda struggling considering both Drax and Mikey are so strong, but that's when April and Mayhem teleport back with that useful intel!

What April learned from her intel-gathering is that The Foot think there is some kind of flaw with the armour, like in canon, you know the deal. What differs from canon is exactly how that flaw occured. Turns out that Donnie when he was younger got a little bit carried away with giving Shelldon cool powerful weapons and Shelldon enced up accidentally shooting up the teapot to smithereens, oopsie! Donnie managed to reassembe it before Splinter saw, but with one of the pieces having gone missing he had to sacrifice his Atomic Lass figurine to plug up the final hole (he's still upset about that to this day btw). BUT POINT IS, like in canon this means that the armour has a obvious weakpoint and if they hit that it might be enough to knock Draxum out of the armour!

You know what happens next, they resume the fighting with this new strategy in mind and eventually they manage to get a lucky hit in and as predicted knocking out the Atomic Lass toy causes Draxum to get knocked out as well. Except YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS and you know it's not quite that easy. Lo and behold, the Atomic Lass figurine was the last thing keeping The Shredder from being resurrected, so now that it's gone? Yeah, the Dark Armour is finally completed, it slurps Draxum's life-force or whatever and then spits him out.

The Shredder is back.

... Except not entirely of course, like in canon he's acting like a wild animal attacking anything that moves, but regardless it's still a new threat they have to deal with. With Draxum being so hurt, Leo makes the decision to portal him back home, and to also send Mikey with him. Both because Draxum probably needs someone to look after him and also Leo doesn't really wanna deal with Mikey's attitude at the moment with everything else going on lmao.

From here on out the battle against Shredder begins. This too goes mostly the same way as in canon, Shredder kinda kicks all of their asses before suddenly teleporting away, and then that song and dance repeats a couple of times before Team Good Guys figure they need a better strategy. Splinter brings up how Big Mama would probably have a way to subdue Shredder, only problem is that it's BIG MAMA and he does NOT wanna go anywhere close to her. In canon Leo brought Splinter with him to BM anyway, but in the AU he kinda respects Splinter, or rather Lou Jitsu, too much to force him to come along. Instead Leo decides he and Raph will go to BM for help, while the others keep Shredder from completely wrecking New York.

The rest of the finale continues in Part 2!

#tiz sep au #tizel art #my art #digital art #tmnt #rottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt au #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt april #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt shredder #rottmnt shelldon

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hoejosatoru · 4 months ago

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Roster Hopper - Blue Lock edition

Characters: fem!reader x isagi, chigiri, bachira, barou, rin, otoya, karasu, yukimiya, nagi, reo (all separate beside nagi and reo) characters are 21+, reader's hair color/texture and skin color not specified

Summary: College team AU, where y/n is a manager of the team and bets her friend she can hook up with all the members of the team - without them finding out. This can be read as one entire fic or if you want to jump around I have the name of each character bolded for their part.

Word count: 11.3k help this took forever

a/n: this is the blue lock version of the fic concept I've done with Haikyu teams. I prefer to write characters older but college au makes this easier to so just imagine whatever age you want. Also y/f/n= your friend's name bc I couldn't think of one

Warnings: semi public sex, car sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, threesome, face sitting, squirting, toy use, finger in ass, chigiri is a sub/calling him good boy, virginity loss for rin, girl there’s a lot we got 10 men to get through so buckle up, also not proof read sorry

"Ugh, I am not going to miss August practices," your friend groaned, fanning herself with a clipboard.

"Seriously," you sigh. Usually you loved being the manager of your college's soccer team. It was a fun position and an easy way to get involved with a sport you enjoyed. Not to mention, your best friend was your co-manager, which meant you always had someone to chat with during practices.

The only time being the manager sucked where days like this, when you had to stand out in the blazing sun. Ego, the coach, made the team come in a week before the semester starts to begin training, which meant long days in the heat.

"Well, it's not all bad," your friend smirked, gesturing to the scene ahead of you. All of the players were currently running around shirtless, sweat dripping down their toned, sun-tanned bodies. The position certainly came with perks.

"Not a bad view, eh?" you replied.

"Ego's really cruel with his no hook up rule," your friend grumbled. You laughed, remembering how awkward the first team meeting you intended when Ego lectured everyone about not having sex with each other because it was a distraction. The players being off the table was definitely a downside of the position.

"I know," you sighed, "How am I supposed to graduate without knowing who's good in bed?"

"Right, like Rin is good on the field, but do you think his skills transfer?" your friend mused.

"Maybe Chigiri likes getting his hair pulled?"

"Do you think Barou makes girls call him the king while fucking?" You both snickered, drawing the attention of Isagi.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing!" you both responded in unison. You both turned away, trying to stifle laughter. As you regained your compsure, a thought popped into your head. You'd gone the past 3 year without breaking Ego's rule, but headed into your final year, you were feeling more daring...

"I have an idea."

"Which is?" your friend asked.

"What if I hooked up with all of them so we could get answers to our question?"

Your friend stared at you, incredulous. "You can't be serious."

"I fear I am," you replied. "Breaking the rules is fun every now and again."

"You'd have to break the rules like 10 times," she countered.

You shrugged. "I've behaved the last few years, I think I'm owed it. Besides, Ego will never find out because I'll make sure they'll keep their mouths shut. They can't know I'm hooking up with the other guys on the team, it would mess with the data."

Your friend rolled her eyes. "I didn't know this was so scientific. I bet it isn't even possible."

"Wanna put some money on that bet?"

"You're on."

You two spend the rest of practice hashing out the details of the bet. You had to sleep with the top ten players on the team, so could figure out who was the best. You couldn't tell them about the bet, nor could you let any of them find out, as it might mess with how good their performance is. You wanted to see how good they are when they didn't know it was a test. But if the team finds out, game over. And if Ego find out... well that was an awkward conversation you were keen on avoiding. You both agreed you had until the end of the school year and winner owed the other $300.

Karasu gave you your first opening. He was trying to convince the guys to go to a frat party with him, but after a week of tough practices no one was interested.

"I'll come with you, Karasu," you said with an innocent smile. "I think some of my roommates wanna go too, we can all go together." You added for the players who may be in earshot. Going alone might raise some suspicions. Karasu jumped at your offer and said he could pick you guys up at 8. Little did he know...

"Sorry Karasu, all my friends bailed," you lied, feigning disappointment. "Hope you don't mind if it's just me." Karasu's eyes raked over your body as you climbed into his car. You wore a mini skirt and a little top, which the glint in Karasu's eyes told you he enjoyed.

Just because Ego had a no hook up rule, it didn't mean the guys didn't look - or flirt - from time to time. Karasu was definitely one of the players that liked to push that boundary.

"Fine by me," he grinned. "We'll still have a good time."

The party, unfortunately, left much to be desired. It was the first big frat party of the year and it was beyond packed. The one drink you had was warm and crappy. Not to mention the music they had blasting sucked. You were barely there an hour when Karasu motioned for the exit.

"I'm sorry I dragged you out for such a shitty party," he sighed when you returned to the car.

"S'okay," you shrugged. "Hey it's still early, why don't we drive around and find a spot to chill for a bit?"

Karasu nodded, his hand on the back of your seat as he threw the car in reverse. "I think I know a spot."

It was only a few minute drive until you pulled up to a private little park, far from the main road. You couldn't believe your luck. You and Karasu slipped into easy conversation for a bit. The longer you spoke with him, the more you realized just how cute he was. You sorta went immune to the team's good looks since you've been around them for so long, but staring only at Karasu for so long reminded you that he was fine.

"What're you thinking about?" you asked him when he went quiet, giving you a particular look that made your stomach flip.

"I'm thinking," he replied, licking his lips, "That you look really good and that I really hate Ego's stupid rules."

"I can keep a secret if you can," you replied, leaning into him.

He held up his pinkie. "I won't tell a soul." You wrapped our pinkie around his with a triumphant grin. "Back seat has more space."

You crawled over the center console, followed closely by Karasu. He could see up your skirt, your ass barely covered by a little lace panty. He could feel himself growing hard as he tried to commit the image to memory.

You let out a little yelp as he playfully smacked your ass. "Sorry, couldn't help it."

You maneuvered to be straddling Karasu's lap. His hands tangled in your hair as he pulled you into a deep kiss. He was shy at all, kissing you with a hunger. You let out a pleasant hum as he nipped at your lower lip.

Your hips stirred over his lap as you felt him growing hard beneath you. Your skirt had completely hiked up around you waist, leaving you covered only in lace. Karasu let a groan as looked down at your clothed cunt pressed against his hard on through his jeans.

"Like what you see?" you teased rolling you hips. The friction against your aching cunt was delicious.

"You're so sexy," he mused, bringing his hands down to squeeze your tits through your top. You mewled, nestling your cunt against his thigh to grind down harder on him. You returned to kissing him as you rocked your hips, the rush of doing something you knew you shouldn't heightened pleasure building.

Your breaths were shortening the more you rolled your hips. You had to break the kiss as you desperately tried to chase your high. "Fuck, you think you could cum just like this?" Karasu asked, an excited edge in his voice.

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to find your voice. Karasu pulled your top down, exposing your boobs. He was greedy, sucking at your nipple and squeezing the other to help you along.

Your head collapsed on his shoulder as your body tensed and relaxed deeply into your orgasm. The breathy moans in Karasu's ear nearly made him come his pants.

"Fuck that was hot," he grinned. "Can I fuck you?" He was already slipping himself out of his pants. His tip was flushed and leaking, looking as needy as he sounded.

"Please." You were just as eager for more, positioning yourself over him. You let out a content sigh as you sunk down on to him.

"Fuck, you're soaked," he groaned, "All that for me?" He let you roll your hips, adjusting to him, but he couldn't hold himself back for long. He placed his hands on the seat, giving him leverage to fuck up into you.

"Karasu!" you cried. The air was thick, windows fogged from your panting breaths. Your hand streaked across the condensation as you tried to stabilized yourself.

It wasn't long before another wave of pleasure surged through your body, squeezing Karasu tightly. He let out a delicious groan as his hips stuttered and released into you. You collapsed onto of him, both of you panting.

"So worth breaking the rules," Karasu grinned. You smiled back, though for more reasons that Karasu realized. 1 down.

****

It had been a couple of weeks since your tryst with Karasu and you'd been holding your breath for Ego to call you into your office, or another player to make some suggestive comment. But there was no indication Karasu let anything slip. Your success emboldened you to set your sights on the next man

Barou always used the team gym later at night, after the rest of team had filtered out. He hated working out with them, complaining that they were loud and obnoxious. You, however, he didn't mind.

You were intimidating by Barou when you first met him, but quickly learned he was all bark and no bite. Well, with women that is. Though he had that tough exterior and an imposing size, he was always respectful towards you.

Truthfully, it was Rin you were most nervous to tackle in this challenge. Though physically less intimidating, he was certainly colder. Though Barou was smart, you had a feeling he would fall into the same pit fall most men do: thinking with the wrong head, so to speak. Rin, however, was more calculated, more observant. You feared he see through your charade. But that was a problem for future you.

You were grateful that Barou let you use the team gym in evenings with him, as you could avoid the crowded campus gym and men that ogled at every woman that walked in. For the most part, you and Barou did your own thing. Sometimes you would spot each other, but really you were just sharing the space with minimal interactions. You knew. Barou liked to do his own thing while working out and didn't wanna push it. Tonight, though, you had other plans.

You donned your cutest workout gear: tiny bike shorts and sports bra in your favorite color. You went about your normal workout, though not going as hard as you normally did so you could keep an eye on Barou. He looked as he normally did during a gym session, shirt off, hair down, wearing only small athletic shorts. He was certainly not making it hard to want him.

Barou was currently at the bench trying to beat his personal record of an incline press. He always had an impressive amount of weight loaded on his bar, but today it looked impossibly heavy. Grunts of frustration echoed in the empty gym as he couldn't quite lift the weight high enough to count as a rep. He set the bar down on the rack with a metallic clang and huff of frustraion. Now was your time.

"You know," you wandered over casually, "I heard that more testosterone can help men lift more.

Barou's brow furrowed. "Does it look like I'm low on testosterone to you?"

You appraised his broad form, thick with muscles, veins snaking down the length of his arms from the pump of his work out. A light layer of sweat made his body sheen. "Certainly not." You shrugged, not letting your true interest show. "Just thought it was an interesting theory. Probably bull shit."

Barou's eyes flickered between you and weight rack You could see the gears turning, the desire to conquer the a weight that would put him far above his teammates. "You'd be willing to try?"

"Sure, why not," you replied. "Could be a cool experiment."

"Alright, c'mere." You did as you were bid, your heart fluttering in your chest beneath his gaze. You slid on to him as casually as you could, your legs straddling his.

Barou was obviously bigger than Karasu, but you could feel the difference even just by being on his lap. His body was thick, forcing your legs open wider to accommodate his width. His muscles flexed beneath you as he shift on the bench to prepare for this lift. You bit down on your lip, hoping he wouldn't notice your blush.

Barou wrapped his hands around the bar, focus etched on his face as he lifted it off the rack. You weren't sure if you were surprised or not that it actually worked. It took some exertion on his end, muscles bulging, skin flushed, grunts that would sound very... suggestive out of context. But he was able to bench the weight for 3 reps, when he wasn't able to get a single one prior.

"Fuck, I can't believe that worked," he panted, setting the weight back down on the rack. When he sat up you were just inches apart.

"Knew you could do it," you said, innocently rolling your hips forward. "You're the strongest guy on the team by far." A little ego stroking never hurt.

"That why you were so eager to sit in my lap?" Barou replied shifting beneath you. You could swear you could feel his cock hardening beneath you. "Could feel you watching me all night." His eyes flickered down your body, taking in your barely covered body. "In this little outfit. Did you put this on for me?"

You batted your eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Barou tsked. "If you asked for what you want, you might get it y/n." His hands, rough and warm, were resting on your outer thighs, leaving no question of what he was suggesting.

"And if I want you?"

His fingers dug into you. "Be careful what you wish for." He pulled you into him, you chest flush against his. His kiss was possessive, dominating. He kneaded your ass as your tongues slid over each other. His skin was hot against yours with only the thinnest layers of material between your aching cunt and his growingly hard cock.

You went to reach between the two of you, to squeeze his length, but Barou gripped your wrist. "I'm in charge here."

"Oh yeah?" you challenged.

In a flash Barou had man handled you into being bent over the bend. "Yeah." He ground his cock against your ass. "That what you want?" You mewled but that wasn't good enough for Barou. He brought his hand against your ass with a sharp slap, making you gasp. "Answer me when I ask you something."

"Yes Barou I want it! Please-" your voice broke off as he pressed his thumb against your clit.

"Good girl." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Gonna give you what you want." He pulled down your shorts, running his fingers through your wetness. "Soaked like a slut for me, huh?" He slid in two thick fingers inside you. "Gotta prep you for me."

Barou thrust his fingers hard and fast, but not unpleasantly. The pads of his fingers brushed against your gspot, making your cunt throb and spasm. Your ass wiggled back against him, wanting more, to feel him deeper. You were on precipice of an orgasm when Barou yanked his hand away.

You let out whine. "If you're gonna cum it's gonna be around my cock." You peaked back as you heard him shedding his shorts. His cock huge - long and thick, veins running up the sides. Your cunt throbbed with anticipation.

"Fuck." You couldn't contain yourself as his fat tip pressed into you. It ached, but in a sinfully pleasant way. Barou ran his hand down your spine, arching you for him while he gave a few shallow thrusts to adjust.

He quickly picked up his pace, the weight of him behind every thrust. It stole your breath, your cunt drooling.

"Making a fucking mess on me," Barou growled, watching the way you coating his length, dripping down on the bench. "Dirty girl." He gripped your hips, holding you just how he wanted. Your fingers dug into the bench, holding on for dear life as he fucked up.

"Barou I-" You choked out. You couldn't form a sentence with the way he took you.

"Go on and cum, y/n," Barou instructed. "Wanna feel you squeezing me." You wouldn't have been able to hold on much longer anyway at this pace. Pleasure exploded through your body, hot and heavy. Barou growled at your cunt throbbing around him. He fucked you through your orgasm, releasing only at the tail end of your high. The feeling of his hot cum shooting ropes into you prolonging you pleasure.

Barou slipped out of you with a grunt. "We need to clean up." Though he was amused by the mixture of yours releases coating his cock and spilled on the bench, his drive to clean was kicking in. He picked up the towel he brought with him while work out, gently wiping between your legs. It was oddly tender compared to his prior actions.

"Hey Barou, would you mind if we didn't tell anyone about this?" you asked. "I don't want to get in trouble with Ego. Plus, I can only imagine what the other guys would say."

Barou could feel a headache coming just by thinking of what stupid shit his teammates he would say. "I'm not telling them shit."

That was a good enough promise for you. 2 down.

****

The first few games of the season went well. Everyone was happy with the team's winning streak. Well, everyone but Isagi. He has yet to score a goal, which was bugging him incessantly.

"You just need to relax man," Bachira, who scored in today's game, told him. "You stress too much. It messes with your game." You eavesdropped on their conversation, pretending to take account of equipment as they packed their bags to head out.

"That's easy for you to say when you've already scored twice this season," Isagi grumbled.

"Just play better," Nagi yawned, not even bothering to look back at Isagi's disgruntled face.

"Or get laid, that ought to calm you down!" Reo snickered, jogging to catch up with Nagi. Not a bad idea Reo...

"Gee, thanks," Isagi snapped.

"Hey Isagi! Ego wants to talk to you," you called to him.

Isagi sighed. "I'll catch up with you later Bachira." He trudged over to you, looking defeated. "Am I about to get yelled at?"

"Well, I sorta lied." Isagi's brow quirked. "Ego didn't want to talk to you, I did."

"Oh? What's up?"

"Bachira's right," you replied, "I know I'm not a soccer expert, but I've learned a lot from watching. I can tell your game is off from the stress. You're playing stiff."

Isagi sighed. "I know, but the problem is I don't know how to not be. Everyone's scored this season except me. I don't wanna fall behind."

"Maybe Reo was right," you suggested.

Isagi let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure he is. But I don't exactly have any women who are willing to hook up for the sake of my game."

"I would, you know, for the sake of your game," you replied.

Isagi looked shocked. "Are you serious? But Ego's rules."

You shrugged. "He'd never find out, it's not like he’d be there during it." Isagi shuttered at the thought. "Look, as a friend and manager who wants to see the team do well, I'm offering to help. If we don't tell anybody else there's no way we'd get in trouble."

You could see the gears turning in Isagi's head. Best case scenario, he was thinking, he has sex with the hot manager and goes on a scoring streak. Worst case scenario, his play doesn't get any better, but he at least got to fuck the hot manager. He liked those odds.

"Okay, sure. If you really don't mind."

It was just too easy.

You agreed to meet at your place, as your roommate was spending the night at her boyfriend's. Isagi looked anxious as you led him to your room.

"This is supposed to be helping to relax," you commented with an amused smile. You laid on your bed, propped up on your elbows. Isagi eyed you hungrily, but his body was still tense.

"I'm still half expecting Ego to pop out and lecture me," Isagi replied.

You chuckled. "Gonna spend the whole night thinking about Ego or are you gonna come over here and let me take care of you?"

The latter sounded much more appealing, obviously so Isagi crawled on top of you on the bed. "If you change you min-"

"Shh," you pressed your finger to his lips. "Don't stress, just kiss me." You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him into you. His kiss was tentative at first, but quickly melted into comfortable rhythm.

Isagi palmed your tits, lightly grinding against you. He was hard already, making you smirk. You slid down between your bodies, squeezing him through his sweats. He gasped into the kiss.

"So sensitive,"you noted. "It's been a minute, huh?

"Too long," Isagi replied, pulling his shirt off. You followed suit, stripping yourself from the waist up. He eyed you hungrily, body already relaxing at the sight of you.

"Let's not keep you waiting any longer, yeah?" You hooked your finger into his sweats, tugging them down. His size was average, but he was flushed a pretty shade of pink. He teased your entrance with his tip, nudging at your clit. You let out a pleasant hum.

Isagi pressed in sigh you with a satisfied size. "God, you feel good." His head fell back as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you. He felt like he had to warm up, afraid he would bust too soon after going so long without.

Eventually he picked up his pace. He cupped the back of one of your knees, pressing it up to your chest. The angle pressed him deeper inside you, hitting a spot that made you breathless. "Mmm, so good Isagi."

He cock twitched at his name on your tongue. It spurred him on, snapping his hips faster. The base of him brushed against your clit, building your pleasure with each thrust. You wrapped your arms around his muscular back, letting your nails rake down his skin. The sensation sent Isagi over the edge.

He let out a low curse as his hips stuttered and he spilled inside you. The sensation of warmth filling you, along with the throb of his cock set you over the edge. You sighed contently into his neck as he slowly rode out your highs.

"Thanks for that," Isagi said later as you both redressed.

"You can thank me once you start playing better," you teased.

Low and behold, Isagi scored twice the very next game. He shot a lopsided grin as the team celebrated the win, though no one knew how you were the key to the success. Another one crossed off the list.

****

A few weeks later, your next opportunity arose. The team was lamenting about upcoming midterms, which they have to pass in order to be eligible play on the team.

"I'm screwed for my economics test," Bachira groaned at the end of practice.

"Don't ask me for help, dude. I gotta focus on my stats test or I'm screwed," Karasu replied, leaving Bachira to groan in the grass.

"Are you taking economics with professor Johnson?" you asked.

Bachira perked up. "Yes, he's the worst."

You nodded sympathetically. "For real, I struggled in his class last semester. I could help you, if you want. I still have some old notes."

"Seriously? That would be awesome," Bachira replied.

You met up the following evening at the library. You found a quiet spot deep into the stacks so you and Bachira could focus. He was not kidding when he said he was bad, but slowly you got him up to speed.

You weren't sure if you were reading into things because you had an ulterior motive, but you swore you felt tension. Perhaps it was the setting, the way you had to lean into to each other and speak in hushed voices. Your thighs brushed each others, fingertips brushing the other's hands as you pointed out facts on the page. The scent of him filling your nose, fresh and a little sweet.

"y/n," Bachira said softly, amusement clear in his voice. "You're staring."

You blushed, but used the moment to your advantage. "You're a little distracting."

"Oh yeah?" His hand brushed against your leg. "What should we do about that?"

You leaned in closer, allowing him to brush higher up your thigh. "You wanna take a little break, Bachira?" Your voice was a sweet hum in his ear.

"Was just thinking I need to thank you for the help," Bachira replied. He ghosted over your center, cat-like eyes flicking to yours for any signs of discomfort. When you should none, he applied a little pressure. "I've got some ideas, but might be better somewhere more... private."

"I like the sound of that," you murmured, already feeling yourself growing slick. "But we have to be careful, if someone sees we could get in trouble with Ego."

"Well, Isagi's visting his family tonight, so I have the place to myself," Bachira replied, lazily rubbing light circles over you. "As you for everyone else, it's late now and I doubt we'll see the guys on campus. Plus, I can keep a secret."

You smiled wickedly. "Let's do it."

You both scrambled to pack up your books. You weaved through the stacks, occupied by only a few devout studiers. It was later than you thought, night fully set in. You were grateful for the cover of darkness as you snuck to Bachira's car, both giggling.

Bachira drove with his hand on your thigh, teasing you lightly. Something about the gleam in his eye when he looked at you made you squirm, like you knew he had something good in store. Mercifully, the apartment he shared with Isagi was not far from campus.

You were on each other once the door closed behind you. Bachira kissed you as he led you back to his bedroom. Both your shirts were already off by the time you hit the bed. Bachira climbed on top of you, kissing you playfully as he continued to tease you through your leggings.

Bachira pulled away from the kiss, breathless and pupils wide. "Are you okay with toys?"

"Hmm?" you couldn't comprehend his question through the fog of lust.

Bachira dug through his nightstand, pulling out a little vibrator. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together at the thought of Bachira using that on you. "Can I?"

"Please."

Bachira grinned, sliding your leggings off and returning to you kissing you. He ran his hands up and down your body, giving extra attention to your tits and thighs. Eventually, he flicked on the vibrator, lazily dragging it from the valley of your chest down to the apex of your thighs. He stopped just above your throbbing clit before dragging it back up to the top.

He chuckled into the kiss as you squirmed when the vibrator ran across your nipples. He slid his tongue into your mouth, kissing you damn near stupid as the little bullet went back down your body.

You let out a little sigh into his mouth as he lightly pressed the vibrator to your clothed clit. He teased you with it, giving just enough pressure for it to feel good, but not enough to do anything. Any time he suspected pleasure was building, he pulled it away. Your hips bucked, desperate for more.

"Bachira," he name a plea on your lips.

"I'm being mean huh? Teasing you like this?" he pressed the vibrator harder into you for emphasis, savoring your gasp. "I'm supposed to be thanking you."

Bachira slid your underwear off, licking his lips at the string of arousal. "Fuck, I think I might need a little taste." He settled between your legs, licking up your slit. Your back arched as he sucked at your clit, messy and eager. He flicked the vibrator back on, alternating between licking at your clit and letting the vibrator do the work.

It took only a few moments of Bachira between your legs to send a surge of pleasure through your body. You clawed at the sheets, gasping his name as the feeling consumed you.

"Tastes so sweet," Bachira mused, licking his lips. He wriggled out of his pants, cock heavy and leaking. "Ready for more?" You nodded, eagerly pulling him closer. Bachira ran his cock leisurely through your slick folds. He flicked the vibrator on, running in down the length of him. He let out a low moan as it brushed against his tip.

He slid the vibrator between the two of you. You jolted as the buzz hit your swollen clit. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he continued to rut himself through your slick. You could feel Bachira's cock twitching against you and all you wanted was to feel that inside.

"Need you, fuck-," you gasped. "Inside, please."

Bachira obliged with a grin. "Can't say no to that." He slid into you with ease, on account of how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of your wrapped around him.

Bachira snapped his hips, gradually picking up the pace. He loved the little sounds you made, proof of how desperate and sensitive you were. He wanted to push it further, flicking the vibrator on and pressing it against your throbbing clit.

You gasped, feeling over stimulated already. The feeling building in you was white hot. "Bachira I'm gonna-" you choked out a sob as gushed all over him, soaking his lower half.

"Fuck that was hot," Bachira replied, fucking you harder through it. He couldn't hold out longer, seeing you soaked and wriggling beneath him. You felt his cock throb as he filled you with a satisfied sigh.

"Sorry about your sheets," you said when you both caught your breath.

Bachira scoffed. "I'm not even slightly upset about that."

You ended up staying the night at his place, but went to practice the next day separately, as if nothing happened. A few days later, Bachira happily announced he passed his test to the team, throwing a sly wink your way. 4 down, 6 to go.

****

It had been a few weeks since the Bachira hook up and, honestly, you had half a mind to just forget the whole plan and go back for seconds. However, the competitive part of you couldn't give up a bet. Not to mention, you were interested in what the other contenders had to offer.

The semester was winding down and you found yourself at a party at the soccer house. Everyone was celebrating finals ending and a season that was successful so far. You wanted to get in one more before break started to put you in a good place to complete the challenge by next year.

As you were scanning the crowd for prospects, Reo caught your eye. He was chatting with Nagi, of course, and you got a weird feeling that they had been looking at you first. Talking about you. You gave Reo an inviting smile, who whispered soemthing to Nagi before jogging over to you.

"Hey, y/n," Reo greeted.

"Did I catch you staring, Reo?" you teased lightly.

He grinned, throwing his hands up. "You caught me. Nagi and I were talking about you, not going to lie."

"Oh? What about?" you asked.

Reo shifted on his feet, a nervous tell. His eyes flickered back to Nagi, who was watching with a flicker of interest across his normally bored expression.

"It's kinda weird."

You shrugged. "I like weird."

"Well," he began, "Nagi and I... we've always wanted to share a girl. You know, a bucket list sorta thing."

"Reo, are you asking me to have a threesome with you and Nagi?" you couldn't keep the smirk out of your voice.

Reo chuckled, "Well, yeah. I know it's random and kinda weird. Don't feel obligated to say yes obviously. We just... think you're hot and cool and were wondering if you'd be down."

What a gift you'd just been given. You didn't wanna look too eager though.

"I'm down, but..." you feigned concern, "Ego's rules... If people found out, it be a disaster."

"Nagi and I won't tell a soul, we promise," Reo assured you. "We're not trying to get you in trouble - or ourselves for that matter."

That easily, you found yourself in Reo and Nagi's shared place off campus. Most of the guys either rented little apartments or shared a house with 4 other guys, but Reo and Nagi a whole house to themselves. Unsurprising, given Reo's wealth. He could easily have the place to himself, but, again, unsurprisingly, he'd rather share with Nagi.

"Wow," you couldn't prevent the word from slipping out as you saw the massive bed Nagi was currently lounging on. He wore grey sweats and a t shirt and looked good enough to already get you excited.

"Glad I went for the king size now," Reo said, ushering you into the room.

"I'm glad you went for it too," Nagi replied, stretching his long limbs. His shirt lifted up, a sliver of skin above his boxers peaking out. Good lord.

"So, how do you wanna..." you trailed of as you sat down on the bed.

"Kiss Nagi," Reo instructed you, authority trickling into his voice.

"Yeah, c'mere," Nagi smiled lazily. Didn't have to tell you twice. You crawled over to the white haired man, who grabbed you when you were in reach. You let out a surprised giggle as he pulled you on top of him, before his lips found yours.

His mouth moved against yours with ease, tongue slipping to brush yours. His large hands settled on your ass, giving little squeezes every now and then. You wiggled your hips in approval, loving the feel of him beneath you. You could feel Reo's on the two of you, watching hungrily as his best friend slid his hands up your shirt.

You sat up, allowing him to pull it off you. You rolled your hips against him, getting him hard beneath you. "Hot," he said, running his hands up your sides before cupping you tits.

You glanced over at Reo, who was obviously hard at the sight of you and Nagi. The way he looked at you two made you cunt throb. "Don't keep us waiting, Reo," you beckoned to him.

The purpled haired man was happy to have an excuse to join. The bed dipped at he crawled over to you. You cupped his face and kissed him while Nagi toyed with you tits. You let out a little gasp as he squeezed your nipples.

"You're hoggin her," Nagi huffed, pulling you back to kiss him again. Reo laid down next to him and you went between kissing both men. Then, when you pulled back for some air, they turned and kissed each other. And fuck it was hot.

You couldn't resist joining in. The three of you kissed, a tangle of lips and tongues. Clothes were shed, hands across bodies, until everyone was breathless.

"Want you on my face," Nagi drawled.

"Think you could give me head during?" Reo asked. He'd been palming himself since you and Nagi started kissing and was desperate for some relief

You nodded eagerly and everyone shifted into a position that would allow everyone to be satisfied. Nagi licked a stripe up your cunt, making you gasp. He attached his lips to neglected clit, sucking. You tried to focus on Reo as you leaned over to kiss down his body. You swirled your tongue over his flushed, dripping tip. You licked up his length before taking him in your mouth.

Reo let out a content sigh as your cheeks hollowed around him. He ran his fingers through your hair, holding it out of your face as your bobbed your head on him. Meanwhile, Nagi continued to devour you, fucking you with his tongue. The moan the escaped you vibrated down Reo's cock, making him groan.

The sound of both of you being pleasured egged Nagi on, his tongue moving faster across your slit and your clit. It only took a few moments more for your to fall apart, cunt clenching around his wriggling tongue. The sensation of you cumming while sucking him off pushed Reo over the edge. His head feel back as he released on your tongue with a satisfied groan.

"Ride me?" Nagi asked when you caught your breath. It wasn't lost on you that Nagi found away to be involved in this without physically exerting himself much, but with what he could do with his tongue, you weren't mad.

Reo slid his hand down your body, wanting a taste of you. He lazily fingered your cunt open. "Fuck, you got her soaked Nagi," he breathed. "Bet she's gonna feel amazing." He sucked your release off his fingers with a pleasant hum.

You were straddling Nagi's hips, holding the base of his cock to line him up to you. He had his hands behind his head, watch you with a lazi grin as you slid down on him. You breathed through your teeth as you stretched around the size of him. He was easily one of the biggest so far.

"Mmm, just like that," Nagi drawled as you rolled your hips. Reo slid behind you, wraps his arms around to play with your tits. He tweaked your nipples, making you yelp. "Oh she liked that, Reo. Can feel her squeezing me."

Reo chuckled against your skin, continuing to palm your breast while your rode his best friend. Nagi cock twitched at the side of Reo kissing and touching you. "I think she'll really like this," nearly purred. His hand slid down your body, finding your aching clit.

"Fuck," you cried as he rubbed quick circles over the bud. Your hips stuttered as you tried to keep pace despite the bubble of pleasure growing in your tummy. Nagi finally decided to help you out, gripping your hips to fuck up into you. The sensation of him deep inside you as Reo toyed with your clit burst that bubble, euphoria flooding your veins.

Nagi fucked you through the orgasm, chasing his own high. You were totally spent, but that didn't stop of the boys from playing with you. A familiar sensation built up, but you didn't even have the voice to warn them before gushing all over.

"Fucking hell," Nagi groaned at the sight of you squirting on his cock. His release hit him immediately, pressing deeply into you one last time to fill you.

"God that was hot," Reo said. He helped you off Nagi, as your legs were like jelly. He ran to get a towel, helping you both clean up.

"So, did that live up to your bucket list expectations?" you asked.

Both men grinned. "Definitely."

Little did they know, they helped you with a list of your own.

****

You let out a sigh as you checked your phone. Isagi lost his wallet. Again. Practice had ended about an hour ago, but he knew you'd be around organizing all the equipment, which is why you got a text begging you to check the locker room. Of course you would, but not without telling him he's an idiot in desperate need of some air tags.

Typically you didn't go in the locker rooms, since that is where the guys changed, but with practice long over, you felt it was safe. You swept through the few rows of lockers, spying no wallet. You were texting Isagi as much when someone stepped out from the shower area.

"Y/n?" Otoya questioned. He was clad in nothing but a towel, which was hanging dangerously low on his hips. His hair was wet and messy, water droplets were rolling down his toned body. You fought the urge to lick your lips.

"Shit, I'm sorry Otoya," you said, "I thought everyone left. Isagi asked for me to look for something."

He chuckled, seemingly unbothered he was practically naked in front of you. "Let me guess, he lost his wallet."

You nodded. "You'd be right. I'm really sorry, though, I didn't mean to intrude."

He shrugged. "No worries, it doesn't bother me. Hell, I may have asked you to join me if I knew you were here." He tossed it out like a joke, but you could sense a current of truth.

You knew Otoya was a bit of a flirt, so you felt like it was worth the risk to be bold back. "That's too bad, I would have absolutely taken you up on that."

Otoya's eyes widened, clearly surprised his stupid flirting was actually getting him somewhere. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," you nodded, "I mean, look at you. I can't say no to that."

"I mean... I'm thinking I actually need another shower," Otoya replied, "If you care to join."

"Only if you think we won't get caught... you know how Ego is," you replied. This would definitely be risky, even though everyone should be long gone. It was a thrilling thought, pushing the boundary of what you could get away with.

"I'm the last guy here," Otoya assured you, "And I won't tell. I don't Ego on my ass more than he already is."

"Guess I won't be needing these, then." You slipped out of your leggings. "Or this." You pulled off your shirt, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Shit, I think I might be dream." Otoya eyed you hungrily. You giggled as he took your hand, pulling you to the showers. Luckily, Ego put a lot of money into the team's facilities, so the showers were actually quite nice - nothing like the typical grimy locker room showers.

Otoya stepped inside the stall, turning the shower on to a nice, warm temperature. He turned to you, beckoning for you to join him. You closed the curtain behind you, pulling him into the small dry are for a kiss. Otoya happily wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body. His muscles were warm and firm against you and you could already feel him growing hard through the towel.

He pulled away from you, dropping the towel with a confident grin. You could see why - he was well endowed. He stepped under the water, reaching out his hand to you. "C'mon, I wanna get you wet," he said with a teasing smirk.

You laughed coyly as you shed your bra and panties, Otoya's eyes on you the whole time. The warmth of the water pulled a sigh from you as you returned to kissing him. He pulled away, grinning wickedly as an idea hit him. He lathered up some soap in his hands, rubbing it across your tits.

"You look good like this," he mused at the bubbles coating your skin. The soap allowed his hands to guide over you easily, making it more fun to play with your tits as he kissing you.

He pressed you against the stall wall, his thigh sliding between your legs. You mewled at the feeling of his strong muscle against your needy cunt. He slipped his free hand between you two, toying with your clit. You hummed pleasantly when he slid tow fingers inside, working you open for him.

"God, you're soaked," he said, voice strained. "Can't wait any longer."

"Don't keep me waiting then." You nipped at his lips as he pumped his length, before pressing into you. You gripped his shoulders as he split you open. He gave long, slow strokes as you adjusted to the feel of each other. His pupils flared open as he watched himself slide in and out of out.

Before you knew it, he cupped his hand under your knee, holding it up so he could get deeper inside you. You moaned in satisfaction at the feeling. You knew you should be quiet - you were still in the team locker room even if they should be gone, but you couldn't help yourself.

Otoya loved it, pumping into you harder to pull more noises out of you. His eyes flickered to the detachable shower head, a wicked gleam shining in them. He took it from the wall, aiming the gush of water at your clit.

"Shit," you cried out at the sudden surge of stimulation. "S-so good." You were breathless as your nails dug into him, desperate to hold on.

"Don't hold back," he panted. "Wanna hear you cumming my name." Your leg wrapped around him in response, pulling him closer as you tipped over the edge. Your orgasm hit you hard, the added stimulation of the shower head making it intense. If it wasn't for Otoya holding you up, your knees would have given out.

The sound of his name on your lips as your squeezed him broke his stamina. Otoya slowed as he milked his orgasm, filling you with all he had.

You were both flushed and giddy as you cleaned each other up in the shower. Otoya tossed you a towel after, grinning. "Any time you need a shower buddy, give me a call."

"Will do," you smiled. 3 more to go.

****

The second semester was progressing and while you only had 3 men left to get through, you felt the pressure to get this bet completed. You were still concerned about Rin, and decided you would tackle him last. You were keeping your eyes and ears open for opportunities for the other two, which Yukimiya thankfully gave you.

You shared a favorite band, who were dropping a new album. Yukimiya invited you over to his place to listen to it. He had record player and a great set of speakers, making the music sound heavenly. You both sat on his bed, letting the songs wash over you.

"I think this is their best album yet," Yukimiya commented as it came to an end. You nodded in agreement as you both launched into a discussion about the music. All the while, you drifted closer to each other, thighs and hands brushing each other. Even if it wasn't for the bet you were working on, you would feel drawn Yukimiya. He was handsome, sweet, and fun to talk with.

"What?" you asked when you noticed him staring at you.

"Nothing," he said with a sheepish grin, "You're just pretty."

You didn't have to fake the blush or the smile that crept across your face. "Thanks, for what it's worth, you're cute."

"Cute enough to break some rules?" Yukimiya suggested playfully.

You feigned offense. "Did you invite me here just for that?"

"Not just for that," Yukimiya teased back, "But I would be lying if I didn't it's something I wanted."

"And I said I wanted it too?" you dropped your voice to a slightly more sultry tone. Yukimiya shifted closer to you at the sound.

"I would say if no one finds out, it doesn't matter if a rule is broken."

"Mmm, I like the way you think." He cupped your face a pulled you in for a kiss. He was slightly more reserved than the other men you'd kissed, but still confident and purposeful. Like he wanted to enjoy himself, but not rush through it. There was something about the slowness that drove you mad, desperate for more.

"Someone's eager," Yukimiya mused as your ground against him. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, swollen from kissing. "Guess I should get you out of these." He took your shirt in his hand, pulling it off, before peeling off your pants.

"This what you wanted?" He asked as he rubbed light circles over your clothed cunt. A bemused smile played at his lips as he felt your underwear growing damp.

"Want more," you breathed, kissing at his neck as he toyed with you.

"Look at yourself," Yukimiya said, turning your so your back was flush his front. You were facing the mirror across from his bed. Your skin was flushed, the wet spot on your panties glaringly obvious. Yukimiya was peering at you from over your shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face. "So pretty when you're needy."

He pulled your underwear to the side, sliding his fingers through your wetness. He let out a pleased sigh as he slide two digits in, lazily stroking. Once they were coated in your slick, pulled them out to toy with your clit.

"You're good at that," you huffed breathlessly as he worked you up with his fingers. Going back and forth between fingering your cunt and stimulating your clit. The slow, steady increase in his pace had your cunt drooling and desperate for release.

"Fuck you're soaked," Yukimiya groaned, his eyes were glued to the mirror, watching his fingers slide in and out of you. "Gonna cum for me? Make a mess?"

"P-please, want it Yuki," you babbled, so close to the high you wanted. Yukimiya guided you there easily, cursing as your cunt clenched around his fingers and your body shuddered. He licked his lips watching you drip on to his lap.

He was already shifting beneath you, slipping himself out of his pants and boxers. Now he was feeling desperate, wanting to know what it felt like to be buried inside you. "Not done with you yet."

"Good, because neither am I," you replied. You leaned forward and arched your back, making it easier for him to slide inside you. You both mewled with pleasure. You rocked your hips, feeling his cock slide through your walls. You throbbed at the sight of you fucking yourself on him in the mirror.

Yukimiya couldn't tear his eyes away either, though he was looking down directly at where he slid inside you. He wanted more, to make you cum harder on him. You heard him spit before you felt it drop on your ass, warm and wet. He gripped your ass with one hand, while a finger of the other circled the tight hole.

"Oh fuck-" you gasped as he pressed his finger in your ass. That addition alone sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making each grind of your hips more intense. Yuki was transfixed at the sight of him filling you, loving the sounds you made.

You didn't last long after that, his name spilling from your lips as you practically collapsed from the intensity of the climax that hit you. It was light and heavy at the same time, making your head swim.

"Shit y/n," Yukimiya groaned, his cock twitching inside you. "You're like heaven." His head feel back with a groan as he spilled inside you, a beautiful sight for you to watch in the mirror.

Yukimiya helped clean you up before you parted ways with promises to discuss the album more when you weren't so... distracted. A surge of excitement hit you when you realized how close you were to winning.

****

The Blue Lock team made the playoffs, so, naturally, a party was in order. The house rented by some of the team members was filled with players and their friends, yourself included. Everyone was a bit drunker than normal, celebrating a successful season and boasting about all the goals they would score in the championship game.

You chuckled as you observed the scene, practically tasting the testosterone from all the posturing. Normally, you would have thought the team house was way too risky, given all the other guys around that could be potential witnesses. But tonight, there was enough of a crowd - and more than enough alcohol - that you were certain, given the right circumstance, you could pull it off. Your body tingled with excitement as you considered your options.

"Hey, y/n," Karasu grinned. He loved to be a little flirty with you, even though it's been months since you hooked up with him. "Were playing spin the bottle in the basement. Wanna come?"

Well, that was certainly an opening. "Sure."

You followed him down to the basement, where a sizable circle was formed on the floor. Some of the faces your recognized, some you didn't. Your eyes flickered Chigiri, who smiled shyly at you. You gave him a coy smile as you settled into a spot.

It took awhile for the bottle to work its way around to you. It was an endless cycle of spinning glass, teasing and giggling as the match made their way to the closet, where they spent 5 minutes kissing. Though, with the flush and panting of a few that left you wondered if they were using their time for a bit more.

When it was your turn, you had to hold in the cheer you wanted to let out as the bottle settled on exactly who you wanted. "Guess it's my lucky day," Chigiri flirted. You grinned; if only he knew how true that was for you.

You both made for the closet, sliding into a heated darkness as the door shut behind you. You felt Chigiri's hands on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His lips were soft and almost sweet. You wouldn't be surprised if he was wearing some sort of cherry chapstick.

Chigiri was a little shy and tentative as he kissed you, which somehow spurred you on more. You stepped forward, pressing him against the wall. He moaned into your mouth as your body rubbed against his. The sound of it - practically a whimper - unlocked something in you.

You pulled away, just barely able to see the needy look Chigiri gave you through the darkness. "Are you hard, Chigiri?" you purred, ghosting your hand across his jeans.

"S-shit, I'm sorry." he mumbled.

"No need to apologize." You traced circles over the bulge in his pants. "Makes me wish we had more time. I could take care of that for you."

"Really?" he perked up.

"Of course," you replied. You nuzzled against his neck, kissing him. "Wanna make you feel good." You could feel him gulp at your words.

"Maybe...maybe we could go to my room after?" he was struggled to keep his voice even with how your lips brushed against his skin.

"We'd have to be sneaky," you replied, "Don't want us getting in trouble, you know?" Chigiri, unsurprisingly, was on board with whatever you wanted. You a made to go back to the circle, where Chigiri would go back to his room after a round. You would wait 3 more rounds before joining him, as to not arouse suspicion.

That plan led you to Chigiri's room about 10 minutes later, where you found him waiting on the bed for you. You practically pounced on him, not holding back how deeply you wanted to kiss him. Chigiri settled on the bed beneath you, letting you take control.

You stripped him down to his boxers, peppering kissing along his exposed skin. You sat back, admiring how Chigiri looked: skin flushed, hair haloed around him, and a needy gleam in his eye.

"You're so pretty, Chigiri," you hummed, running your finger down his chest. You toyed with the waistband of his boxers, watching him squirm.

He blushed at your compliment. He's not used to being called pretty as a guy, but he liked how it sounded coming from you. He liked even more that you were dipping your hand into his boxers, running your finger down his hard length.

"Bet you'd look even prettier cumming for me," you mused, pulling his boxers off. His tip was flushed a pretty shade of pink and already leaking. "Would you like that?"

"Please," he urged, voice strained with anticipation. You obliged, spitting into your hand and pumping him. You paid extra attention to his tip, swirling your finger over the tip and spreading his pre. You leaned down to press a kiss to it, making him whimper. The sound, the desperation caused your own arousal to pool between your legs.

"So sensitive," you hummed. You pumped his faster, giving an extra squeeze to work him up. You pushed to the point of the edge, just to slow down and hear him whine. You could keep it up for hours, but the desperate way he looked at you wore through your patience.

"F-fuck y/n, 'm-m close," Chigiri stumbled over his words.

"Cum for me, Chigiri," you purred. You watched as his tummy dipped from the effort of his release. He whimpered loudly as he came all over you hand and his tummy. "Good boy."

Chigiri let out a little whine at your words. He already getting hard again as he watched you lick up his release. You made your way back to his lips. You finally started to remove your clothes, letting Chigiri catch his breath and feel your body. By the time you were bare, he was rock hard again.

****

The energy in practice was tense, despite the team having won the semi finals and punched their ticket to the championships the night prior. The game, however, had been way too close, entering over time. Blue Lock got won by the skin of their teeth, thanks to the tie breaking goal by Rin.

"You idiots better not play like that in the finals," Rin snapped at the end of practice.

Barou bristled. "I could win the whole damn championship myself."

"Oh yeah? We only won yesterday because of my two goals," Rin fired back. "If it wasn't for me you'd be watching the championship from the stands."

"We all contributed, Rin," Isagi intervened. "You acting like a pompous ass isn't going to win us the championship."

"Nobody asked you, Isagi," Rin practically spot.

"Don't waste your breath, Isagi," Karasu butted in, a mean glint in his eyes. "Rin's just miserable because the only place he can score is on the field."

The group snickered as Rin's scowl deepened. You were surprised at the insinuation - was Rin a virgin? It was somewhat hard to believe given his good looks as status as one of the best athletes in campus but that look on his face...

"Whatever," Rin grumbled, heading away from the group. "When you all have to watch me score a hat trick in the finals, you'll wish you trained more instead of acting like fools."

Everyone dispersed after that and you waited a few minutes before following Rin to where you knew he was heading - the yoga room. He was the only one on the team who used it, so you knew you'd find him alone. You joined him on occasion, which he tolerated because you were pretty good at it and didn't bother him.

You knew this was your only shot and, frankly, the only time you felt nervous in this whole ordeal. If anyone was going to say no to you and blow this whole thing it would be Rin. But it was now or never.

"Hey Rin," you greeted. He was already seated on a mat. He gave you a grunt in reply. "Sorry those guys were such assholes to you."

Rin shrugged. "They're idiots. I don't care." Something in his voice told you he might care despite his cool exterior, so you continued.

"They are," you nodded, "But if you wanted those idiots to be wrong, I could help."

His eyes slid to you. "What do you mean?"

"The whole not scoring off the field thing," you replied. "Maybe I'm overstepping, but if what they said it true and you don't want it to be, I would be down."

"Are you offering to sleep with me?" Rin asked. "I don't need pity, you know."

Shit. You had to stay calm. "It's not pity, you're a good looking guy and the best on the team. Why wouldn't I?" You could see the slightest shift in his eyes, so you continued. "Besides, these guys think they're so smart. It would make them look stupid if they were dogging you for something that wasn't even true."

Rin was silent, mulling your offer over. His gaze was intense, but you knew you couldn't look away, couldn't show weakness. Rin was a perfectionist, if he thought you weren't up to his level, he would certainly say no.

"Okay," he said finally. You bit back a cheer. "But I don't want them knowing it was you. I don't need them thinking I got pity sex."

You could have kissed him for making it so easy. "That's fine with me." You made arrangements to meet at his place later that night. He was not one for wasting any time, apparently. His apartment was just how you expected: neat and orderly.

He sat on his bed, looking up at you with a look in his eye you'd never seen before.

"Are you nervous, Rin?" you asked, incredulous.

His brow furrowed. "No." But he couldn't stop the tint from from rising in his cheek.

"We don't have to you, know you," you said. Sure, it would suck to lose, but you wouldn't want it at the cost of making him uncomfortable.

"I'm not nervous," Rin reiterated. "Let's just get it going, okay?"

You rolled your eyes, but sat on the bed next to him. "So romantic."

The kiss was a bit tentative and stiff at first, but Rin slowly warmed to your rhythm. You spent some time like that, just letting him get used to you and not forcing anything too soon. Eventually, Rin's hands ventured to your body, feeling you up. You took it as permission to put your hands on him, climbing into his lap.

This kiss became progressively heated as you explored each other. You ground against him lightly, pulling stifled groans from Rin. He grunted impatiently, pulling at your clothing. You obliged his silent demand, getting your top off. You leaned over him, forcing him to lay back on the bed. He kept his eyes cool and almost bored, but you didn't miss the bob in his throat as he took in the sight of your tits.

"How far have you gone?" you asked, sliding your hand up under his shirt.

"I've fingered a girl," he told you.

"Oh? So is the soccer guy good with his hands?" you teased.

"I guess you'll find out," he replied, pulling you into him. He was growing my sure of himself now, sliding his hand between your legs. He teased you through your leggings as your tongues tangled. Eventually, he found his way inside your pants.

He didn't disappoint by jamming his fingers into you, as you'd fear a virgin would. He took the time to work you wet, before slipping two fingers inside. He pumped them confidently, finding the spot that made your breath hitch.

"Sounds like the soccer guy is good with his hands," Rin mused. You didn't protest as you let him work you up to an orgasm. He rubbed your clit in circles as pleasure rushed your body, making you cry out.

"You know, I'm surprised you are virgin," you commented as you caught your breath. He was good at that.

Rin shrugged. "I was focused on soccer."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, which made Rin scowl. However, he didnt' seem to care anymore as your stripped both of you of the rest of your clothes. "I'm gonna need you to focus on me now," you flirted. "At least for a few minutes."

Rin scoffed. "I'll last more than a few minutes."

You grinned. "Well see about that."

You couldn't lie, it felt good to see the Rin Itoshi falter beneath you as you pressed him inside you. The warmth and wetness was like nothing he had ever felt before. As you moved your hips, there was a flare of panic in him that he would, in fact, spill in you immediately. However, he refused to give you the satisfaction, nor hurt his own pride.

"You feel good Rin," you moaned, putting a little extra emphasis on it just to tease him. Despite your teasing, Rin was holding together better than you expected. He quickly learned your rhythm, finding a way to match your thrusts and press deeper inside you. It shouldn't surprise you, given how Rin approaches soccer. He was never passive about anything, needing to be the best at any new skill he learned.

"Fuck," he huffed, a crack in his calm facade. The feeling of you squeezing him was quickly wearing down his restraint. You were egged on by this show of weakness, bouncing on him even faster. Rin, not to be bested, found your clit once against and circled the sensitive bud.

When your second release hit you, it broke Roin too. The feel of your already tight cunt clamping down on his aching length was too much. He cursed again, fingers digging into your skin as he spilled inside you.

"Honestly, I thought people were over hyping sex," Rin commented as you both redressed, "But now I kind of get why those guys are such idiots about it."

You snorted. "I'm just happy I could help." But even more happy that you just won yourself a bet.

****

"I have to know, who is the best!" Your friend demanded.

"I got a top five for you," you smiled wickedly, excited to share your findings.

In 5th place was Chigiri. You never thought you'd enjoy being the more dominant one, but you thoroughly enjoyed taking charge of Chigiri.

"Of course that pretty boy liked that," your friend grinned.

In 4th place Barou. A bit rough, but he knew how to make it good. Plus, he was by far the biggest on the team.

"Barou having the biggest dick is shocking to no one," you friend commented.

3rd place was a tie between Nagi and Reo. Because you had them together, it was too hard to place them individually. Despite how much you enjoyed yourself, it also felt unfair to rank them higher since they had partner. But fairness be damned they earned a spot on the list.

Your friend sighed wistfully, wishing that she too could find herself between Nagi and Reo.

2nd place went to Yukimiya, which did not shock your friend at all.

"He's so fine, I could have told he'd be up there. But, then who's number one?"

"The winner is..." you made a little drum roll. "Bachira." You had not been able to stop thinking about how he so easily he toyed your body. How easily he pulled out the best orgasm out of you.

"Damn, who knew he had it in him?" you friend commented. "Guess I'm not that surprised he's a freak, though."

"Definitely not surprising, but very appreciated." You smiled, not just because you were a couple hundred dollars richer from winning this bet, but because you were already plotting how you could get some seconds.

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mercurial-chuckles · 7 months ago

Text

I met them, and now I’m their queen!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes | Stucky x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Language | Hot supersoldiers alert | Clingy supersoldiers | We've got game supersoldiers | Protective and borderline obsessive | Wet thoughts | Allusions to hot nights | Slight angst but happy ending | Confession | Friends to Lovers trope | Poly relation | Long one ~5k | Written in a feverish haze. Any, I mean, any craziness can and will be blamed on deliriously Nyquiled-mind! Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: It really started with, "Let's write a drabble," and well, IT DID NOT end up being a drabble! But blame the two hot super soldier specimens for taking reins and striding through dominantly. This was supposed to be published (along with three other fics) on New Year's, but times have been testing! Anyhoo, Sydney and I—ever indulgently—worked ourselves up with some ideas and this burgeoned, and we both decided to collaborate having similar title and prompt. Inspiration: — confession to get it off their chest before the new year starts Read Sydney's I met them, and now I'm their princess and smother her story with love and affection! Forever grateful to Sydney for giving me the push to publish this and for giving this long-ass fic a read while I was sick and whiny! @buck-star Also, if there are any Windows 11 users, do you know an easy way of typing the em dash (Alt+0151 is no longer an option) Every time I have to use, I have to copy and paste and it's been a pain in my butt. So, any shortcuts would be a great help! Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! Banner credits to me. Picture credits to internet! Divider credits to @buck-star Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

'Have you been Naughty or Nice?'

I've been disastrous. You thought, snorting, looking at the quite colorful, only-for-adult-eyes kind of a poster.

While walking briskly to the truck in the parking lot, your eyes inadvertently fell on the shirtless guy with a Santa hat and red trousers posing sultrily. The show had been for Christmas Eve, now nearly a week old. Lucky patrons!

And your useless, absolutely horny mind brought images of two rugged, burly-looking muscular supersoldiers adorning the costume, and you shuddered.

Nope. No. No. Do not go there.

*Thud*

The distant sound startled you, and you looked down the deserted street but found nothing. You became aware of your surroundings and realized you were standing before a shady-looking strip club. Heart pounding, you hurried toward the truck you'd parked at the end of the street.

The local hill town was vastly different from NYC. By 8 p.m., the main street was completely vacant; the local stores were all closed for the night except for the convenience store at the gas station on the end of the main street and a local vet hospital, both of which you paid a visit tonight.

You quickly got into the truck and navigated out of the small town towards your temporary abode, decked in the woods near the lake.

It was New Year's Eve, and the entire day's theme was a series of unfortunate events and bad decisions.

Earlier that afternoon, having used up all the leftovers, takeouts, and groceries, you decided to venture out to find food. You cursed yourself for being so pathetic and unplanned. It was a hard bet you'd find a store open today or tomorrow.

You should have planned better, but it was what it was, and your poor mind couldn't possibly think logically when it was going through so much. So, forgiving yourself, you decided to drive to the town, hoping to get something to stock up the tiny kitchen for the next couple of days before you can go grocery shopping like a responsible adult.

But lo and behold, you had a flat tire. After groaning and cursing at your fate for a whole three minutes, you realize your aunt mentioned that you could take her truck around if it's still working.

You grabbed the keys and went to the garage. The truck seemed in good condition, with no flat tires. GREAT! You tried to start, but it won't budge. The check engine light blinked red.

Upon further inspection, you realized the spark plug was out and saw a pair of them in a cabby on the metal rack. You weighed your options, changing the spark plug in a somewhat cold and dim-lit garage or changing a tire in the chill out in the dark. It was an easy choice.

So, for the next two hours, you replaced the spark plug. Huffing and out of breath, you started the engine, which purred to your satisfaction. Feeling accomplished, you went to the only open convenience store and stocked up on some groceries. Fiona, the cashier, was a middle-aged lady who didn't talk much, unlike the other folks in the town.

When you went to pay, you realized you had left your phone. You must have left it in the cabin when you went to search for the truck keys.

Ugh! Sometimes, you hated that you remembered directions. It made you less dependent on your phone. Luckily, you had your wallet on you.

After bidding bye to Fiona, you loaded the two brown bags into the truck. It was then you heard the yowling and the hisses. You saw the small white kitten by the lamppost in the parking. It looked like an Angora. She hurt her leg and was profusely bleeding. Your heart tugged painfully.

You unzipped your coat slightly and carefully lifted her up. She clutched at your shirt, meowing. You rushed to the convenience store inside, scaring sweet Fiona almost to death. You explained about the kitten, and she gave directions to the vet. She even called, telling them you would be coming with an injured cat.

So, you thanked her and decided to walk since it was not far, and the poor kitty seemed far too comfortable in your arms. As soon as you reached the corner house in the location, a young guy and a woman were waiting outside. The woman introduced herself as Darlene. She seemed nice and took the kitten gently from your hands. You waited for a bit while Darlene checked on the injuries.

However, the weirdly creepy receptionist, Mark, seemed to take too much interest in you, and he asked questions. A lot of questions. And he made you pretty uncomfortable. Luckily, Darlene walked out to tell you all was fine and that she would keep a watch on the kitten overnight. You were grateful that it wasn't anything serious. You promised to drop by tomorrow after she said it was okay for you to visit since it was a holiday.

Mark told you he'd walk you to the truck and wouldn't take no for an answer. By some miracle, Darlene understood and called him for something she needed. He begrudgingly got to work, giving you time to escape.

Yeah, it had been one crazy evening. Now that you think of it, the past month has been the same way.

****

In retrospect, it started with you getting buzzed after the Thanksgiving dinner at the compound. The seemingly innocent discussion with Vision about the white hole and string theory shifted to abstract physics. Then, it veered to your favorite multiverse causality, which brought to this discussion about your supersoldiers.

"You have such affection for them," Vision remarked.

"Of course I do," you replied breezily, sipping down the espresso martini. "They're my best friends." You grinned.

Vision tilted his head, studying you, dissecting your thoughts. "It is more than that," he said gently. "You love them. And it transcends friendship."

"What? No," you scoffed, a nervous laugh bubbling up. "That's... I mean, Vision, come on. It's not like that."

You defended, deterred, and denied. And you argued passionately with Vision that he was wrong and entirely out of his depth.

He gave you a smile. "One only argues this fervently when the truth threatens to unravel their carefully constructed narrative. No?"

And the point hit home like Thor's lightning.

Love? That wasn't love. That was friendship. Mutual respect. Admiration, loyalty, and the way they made you feel so cared for, and so so protective, it ought to be friendship! That's all it was. Wasn't it? Friends spend all day, every day together. Friends, just know what you need before you even say it... Friends do that. Totally!

You shook your head, muttering about Vision overanalyzing human emotions, and excused yourself to refill your drink. But his words trailed you, seeping in and breaking every carefully shackled, dreamy thought you occasionally had.

And your eyes landed on them. They were in the kitchen with Sam and Bruce. When your eyes met Steve's, he was already gazing at you. He wiggled your favorite ice cream in his hand, scooped it into a bowl, and winked at you. And Bucky's eyes softened when you met his gaze. He was in a mid-argument with Sam and casually leaned beside Steve, giving you a grin.

Your breath stilled. And something fucking snapped in place, and that realization disrupted everything.

Holy Shit!

Sitting on the nearby couch, you trembled as the flooding thoughts overtook your senses and limbs.

You've been inseparable for years now. You've known Steve even longer since he came out of the ice. Steve and you both were there to help Bucky through his healing. It had been a long journey through ups and downs, but you all were here with a somewhat stable life.

Now, there were times you felt extremely frustrated with the way they treated you, extremely protective and like you were delicate. They were there through your every whim and craziness; likewise, you were there for them. Though initially fostering a crush on both, becoming friends with them sidetracked your crush, or that was what you thought. Apparently not!

That rigid fact of love and its effects took hold of you, and you became even more aware of your predicament as time passed. Your thoughts buzzed as Steve casually sat beside you, eating ice cream while Bucky stole a few spoons from yours. The situation worsened when they fussed over your unusually quiet behavior, asking a hundred and some questions if something happened or if you were falling sick. You pulled yourself together and told them you were fine and downright rejected them staying over.

You woke up drenched that night, not from a nightmare; it was more of a wet dream starring two supersoldiers. What followed was you being hyper-focused on every little thing and how obsessively protective they were with you. And your heart was craving more, basking at their every little action.

It was bad.

And it got worse as the dreams continued and their worry for you catapulted, wondering what's going on with you.

Now, personal space was not a concept with both men. They were practically living two doors away in your apartment complex. And they were always around you.

You were starting to realize how fucked up the situation was. There was no way in the world this could work out. You loved them both. And you were acutely aware of their love for each other. How was this ever gonna work out?

Afraid of losing them, knowing you had no defenses against their piercing awareness of every flicker of your expression and every erratic heartbeat, you decided to take some time away. After all, distance helped you hate your family less. Out of sight, out of mind, right? You thought, why not try?

But it was not that easy to suddenly up and leave. Opportunity came in the form of a mission in Arizona. It was a level-2 mission, a low-level, routine assignment, far below the high-stakes operations you usually handled with the Avengers. Kert Harrison, the mission lead, seemed pleasantly surprised when you volunteered.

You let Steve and Bucky know only after you were strapped into the jet, delivering the news as casually as you could manage: the team needed a tech assistant, and you'd joined at the last minute.

Thus started the careful ghosting.

And the group chat exploded with messages. Bucky demanded the details, cursing up a storm, and you replied, 'Chill out, Sergeant, you know I can't communicate that stuff.'

You've ignored them after that. The mission was simple, walk-in-the-park simple, walk-in-the-house simple. Kept you occupied, though. But once the mission was done, the pit in your stomach grew, and the thought of seeing them terrified you.

"A little more time would help," you told yourself, "Just a little more time to breathe."

Knowing that Captain Softly Stern and Sergeant Toughly Tender would be your doom if you were anywhere close to them in this mindset, you ran for the hills. Quite literally.

Your aunt Ellen had a cabin in a small mountain town in NC. Conveniently, she was in Hawaii, leaving her cabin all alone. So, you decided it could use some company.

You then dropped a vague message telling them your aunt needed you, a family emergency, which was far from the truth.

And it sounded like the perfect Christmas. To be home alone.

But the problem was the cabin was not just lonely. It was alone lonely. The nearest town was 20 minutes away. Decked somewhere in the deep woods, a few other cabins surrounded near the lake. It suited Aunt Ellen, though. She occasionally came up to write or chill from the hustle and bustle of California.

And it didn't help that the whole setting felt like a Stephen King novel waiting to manifest. You couldn't help but internally whimper, but you sucked it up, pushing yourself to make it through.

You ignored the worried calls, always leaving them a text reply with a vaguely convincing excuse.

Guilt burgeoned your chest steadily for not spending Christmas with them. For the past few years, you three cozied up on the winter nights, cooking, baking, arguing, decorating, binge watching & cringe watching and the whole prospect had become a tradition.

Two days before Christmas, Steve had left a message asking if you could make it home. Home. He called it home, and your heart pained.

'Not likely, Steve.' You texted him.

'🥺🥹😭💔' he replied, making you almost break down and cry. He never sent any sort of emojis, and you always teased him about it. 'Emojis do the whole work and some, Steve.' You had told him a long, long while ago.

Steve might have thought this was the time to come after your heart with the series of emojis he sent. You had no guts to reply.

Bucky, however, seemed to stop buying your excuses after you ignored his calls. He stopped calling and texting altogether. It was typical Bucky. He got passively aggressive until you gave in. And you mustered a ton of courage to not just call or text.

Christmas morning, you woke up feeling like the Grinch. The memory of the worst Christmas when you were fourteen has been replaced by Christmas this year. This one felt far worse.

Steve left a voice message. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. It's not the same without you." He sighed, voice soft and tattered. "We…miss you," his soft, broken voice shattered your heart even more.

Bucky, on the other hand, ignored you royally. But by the afternoon, he left a text with two words, 'Merry Christmas.' And your shattered heart further splintered.

This brilliant need-some-space vacation idea was supposed to be an escape, a way to clear your mind, to get over everything swirling inside. But it was only making things worse. It felt like you were meditating on them, and only them?

Ugh!

You mustered courage and called them that evening. Bucky picked up first, his voice gruff, replies short and clipped. "Fine. You doing good?" You hummed. "How's your aunt?" Steve piped in. They must've put you on speaker.

"She's ok," you said, and before they prodded, you asked them about their day. They mentioned getting your gifts, but other than that, they hadn't done much. The conversation felt hollow, and guilt weighed heavy on you. You felt like the worst person in the world.

Hurriedly, you said your goodbyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

And then, you succumbed to the loneliness that clung to your heart and the messiness that tangled your thoughts. You spent six agonizing days in the cabin in the woods, fighting every instinct to run back to them.

That was a week ago. Seven horrible days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and you thought you could use some sustenance, but it had already been one hell of a day.

Driving back to the cabin, you felt someone was watching you. You shook it off, chalking it up to the weird encounter with Mark. He'd set your nerves on edge, that's all. And at least the kitten was alright.

Pulling into the cabin's garage, you parked your car, not noticing the unfamiliar vehicle parked on the other side. You made your way to the other side to grab the grocery bags. The cold mountain air nipped at your skin.

The sound of boots against the gravel made you freeze. Your heart slammed into your ribs, and your pulse raced. There were a few other cabins nearby, but why would someone trespass, you wondered.

Was it Mark? Had he followed you? You grabbed the nearest thing within reach, a hammer, from the small wooden table.

The sound of heavy steps approached closer and closer, and you tightened your grip, preparing to swing. You almost threw the hammer, too, but realizing who stood there made you whimper in relief and dread.

"What the fuck? What are you two doing here?" you yelled, confused and rattled.

Steve briskly walked toward you, his expression concerned. "Is that blood?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to get a look at your neck and hands.

Oh? You glanced at yourself and then up at them.

"Are you hurt?" Steve repeated his question sternly, pulling down the zipper to your jacket, completely unbothered.

"HEY!" You shook your head, stepping away from his hold. At least you tried.

Before you could protest, Bucky came closer, his brow furrowed as he unzipped your jacket, swatting away your tiny hand. Both of them froze, staring at your shirt. You glanced down and groaned. You'd forgotten you were wearing a Captain America T-shirt now covered in blood.

Steve blinked, visibly surprised. They had no idea you owned any Captain America merchandise, let alone a few bobbleheads, one of a metal-armed man and another of the man himself holding his shield, both of which you'd secretly bought earlier this year.

Bucky turned you around, cold fingers holding your chin up, demanding if you were hurt. Your breath hitched, looking up at him. His stubble was slightly grown, and the stressed look on his face made you more worried. You glanced at Steve; he looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his knuckles looked marred like he had been going at the punching bags.

"I'm fine." You whispered, not meeting their gaze and staring at the soft blue undershirt covering Bucky's broad chest. Steve had taken the hammer you still held in your hands and carefully placed them on the table.

"Start talking before you give us a heart attack," he sternly demanded.

You rolled your eyes and cleared your hazy mind. You took a steadying breath before explaining to them that it wasn't your blood and what had actually happened with the kitten, omitting Mark of course. When you finished, you glanced up at them, who looked at you angrily.

Bucky sighed, and he took another deliberate step closer to you. "Family emergency, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then why are you here playing house in the middle of nowhere while your aunt Ellen is in Hawaii?"

Your eyes widened, "How the hell…?" your question faltered on your lips as you caught the guilty look in Steve's eyes while Bucky shrugged smugly.

"Never mind. Don't answer that," you muttered, reminding yourself that you were talking to Captain America & the ex-Winter Soldier.

Steve zipped up your jacket when you shivered from the sudden gust of wind. "Let's go inside," he ordered. You nodded, reaching for the bags, but Bucky was already there, pushing you aside.

"Get your ass inside. I've got them," he grumbled, clearly angry at you for ghosting them.

You walked with Steve and Bucky beside you, fumbling for your keys, but Steve simply pushed the door open. "Don't bother," he mumbled.

"Unbelievable," you muttered. "You pried open the door?" you squeaked.

"Your phone was inside. Your car was outside. No sign of you," Bucky said defensively. "What the fuck did you expect us to do?"

When you glanced at Steve, who tended to be less of a rule-breaking hazard than Bucky, he shrugged, "Oh, I was this close to breaking it down. Thanks to Bucky, we managed to keep it intact." Steve chuckled, holding the door open for you and Bucky to enter.

"Ugh," you groaned, storming into the cabin with them trailing behind.

"Nice shirt, by the way," Steve commented as you walked in, "Didn't know you were a fan."

"Of course you like it," Bucky chuckled, glancing at Steve with that grin you were all too familiar with. Steve straightened up proudly.

"Do you also have a Winter Soldier plushie hiding somewhere? No judgment if you do." Bucky snickered, reaching you, dropping the bags on the counter, and effectively cornering you in the small kitchen.

Your face burned. "It's my aunt's. She's a fan. I found it lying around," you lied poorly.

"Uh-huh," Bucky smirked, and Steve grinned, knowing all the signs fully well.

You cleaned up your hands, washing out the traces of blood here and there. You felt agitated. They were here, the stupidly gorgeous men. Your friends. Your everything. They couldn't possibly understand the volcanic arc stretching your mind right now.

You grabbed a bottle from the neatly stacked row in the cabinet, placed it on the counter, and unscrewed the cap. Sidestepping Bucky, you quickly made your way to the living room. As soon as you sat down, you chugged half the bottle, feeling the cool liquid help clear some of the tension that had been building in your chest.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" you asked, feeling utterly exhausted and emotionally drained.

You heard them approach you as Steve settled beside you and Bucky sat on the wooden coffee table before you. For a split second, you thought it would give away, but the table looked sturdy.

You sighed and refocused on getting your brain to work, but it felt impossible with them so close.

Steve took your left hand into his large, firm grip. He traced his thumb along your wrist, his touch sending waves of warmth flooding through you, and for a moment, your heartbeat stuttered, racing beneath his fingertips. You tried to steady your breath, but it only intensified the sensation.

"What are you doing here, doll?" Bucky asked seriously, and you averted your gaze, trying to pull away your hand from Steve's, but he wouldn't let go.

"Steve," you muttered softly, helplessly, and he reluctantly let go.

"Uh…I…" you started, heart thundering. This was supposed to be your solace, your way out of the whole thing, and here you were being asked to confront. You hated it.

Your head started pounding. You rubbed your fingers to your head.

Bucky stood abruptly. "Alright, sit tight. I'll make you some tea. It'll ease your headache."

"No!" you snapped, your voice rising. "Stop that. Do not make tea."

Bucky froze mid-step, genuinely baffled by your sudden outburst. "Okayyy. No tea," he said slowly, folding his arms. "But I'm not giving you coffee. You'll end up awake all night, and it gives you a stomachache," Bucky argued.

You buried your head in your hands, feeling overwhelmed and helpless. How do you not become hyper-aware of all these little things? How? They never would get it.

Steve leaned closer, still maintaining distance, but his hand caressed your hair, comforting and enraging your senses, "Hey, did you eat anything besides cereal?" he asked, and you looked at him confused.

You couldn't help but scoff internally. How the hell would you know that, Rogers? But you didn't voice your thoughts aloud. Knowing he knew you better.

"Okay, we are not talking until you eat something. Go change, wash up. I'll make you something," he ordered.

With a dejected sigh, you dragged yourself up and headed for the shower.

The shower helped, mostly. It washed away the blood and tiredness, surely, but also washed some of your inhibitions away.

You headed back to the kitchen, where you heard them.

"Slice it, Buck, not Julienne."

"It tastes the same. How does it matter?" Bucky argued.

You couldn't help but chuckle. This was familiar. This felt like home. They were home. And there they were, making sandwiches and looking utterly comfortable, their shoes and jackets discarded. They also looked sinfully hot, those tight undershirts clinging to their muscles, and the agonizing thoughts returned.

"I miss your t-shirt," Steve quipped with a grin, eyeing your plain red t-shirt and leggings as you walked closer. "Again, that's my aunt's. Get over it, Steven." You muttered.

Bucky leaned against the countertop, his intense gaze fixed on yours. You walked up to him slowly.

"Sorry for yelling at you," you told him sincerely. His gaze searched yours, and his insanely pink lips curled into a small smile.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low and warm, pulling you into a hug before you could respond.

You melted into him immediately, feeling the heat of his body against yours, the familiar comfort of his embrace washing over you. That perfect mix of musk and something undeniably Bucky wafted over your senses and calmed the chaos inside your head. You tightened your arms around him, the ache of missing him--of missing them--filling your chest.

You could feel the deep rumble of his chest against your cheek, the sound vibrating through you, sending a warmth that felt grounding and exhilarating. And when he tightened his hold around you, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitched. You flushed, overwhelmed by the intensity of it.

"'S all good, ok?" he murmured softly, his voice so reassuring it made your heart ache. "Let's eat."

Reluctantly, you pulled away, blinking as you tried to steady yourself, the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

When you walked towards Steve, he grinned at you, and you leaned your forehead against his large bicep, feeling it flex as he worked. His familiar warmth settled around you.

"I hate it when you don't take care of yourself," Steve said. You stepped away before Steve decided to lecture you more.

You grabbed the plates and started setting them aside, wanting to keep busy to avoid the tension in the room. Your furtive glances toward them didn't go unnoticed. Both Steve and Bucky were quiet as you ate in silence. You hated yourself for not suggesting that you play something on the TV to distract from the discomfiting silence. But you were paralyzed emotionally.

When you tried to clear the plates, Steve gently stopped you. You reluctantly handed him the plates, feeling small in the space between you.

Bucky seemed to notice your unease. "Want to have that tea now?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving you. You averted your eyes; instead, you leaned against the wall for support. You nodded in response, trying to pull yourself together but not quite succeeding.

Bucky moved to prepare the tea, and you let yourself stay quiet, not looking at him--at either of them--afraid that if you did, you'd spill everything you'd been trying to hold back.

You felt so pathetic and helpless. Wanting to seek their comfort but feeling that would be unjust.

And you watched Steve walk to you, wiping his hands on the towel before walking closer.

He reached for your hand, his grip warm, and it felt perfectly assuring. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way he held you as if he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"Let me ask you something. Did something happen that you're hiding?"

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to answer.

The intensity of his look only seemed to make it harder. You shook your head slightly, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, "No."

"Did Buck or I hurt you?"

"No!" you said, loudly and firmly.

"Then why?" His voice softened even further.

You stared at him, feeling the truth stuck in your throat, tangled in a way that made speaking impossible. Your eyes drifted, landing on Bucky, who stood just a few feet away, his posture tense, his eyes flickering between you and Steve.

You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't say it. You'd spent years building something so beautiful with them, something so right. And if you let it out, if you gave voice to the fear and guilt swirling inside you, everything could come crashing down. What if you lost them? Everything between you, the connection, the love, the trust. What if it all fell apart because you were too weak to keep it together?

That thought should have stopped you, should have held you back.

But the tears welled in your eyes despite your best efforts to hide them. You pressed your palms against your temples, trying to stave off the pressure building inside you. Still, the overwhelming rush of emotion was too much.

"Hey, hey…" Steve's voice was soft, and suddenly, his hands were on you, gently pulling your hands away from your face, coaxing your gaze back to him. His eyes, filled with nothing but tenderness, locked onto yours. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell us. We're not going anywhere. You're not going to lose us."

You couldn't stop the tears from falling now.

You had no idea what to say or what to do next. All you knew was that you had avoided them to overcome the feelings, but here you were, confronting them head-on.

"You've been my home, both of you," you whispered, voice trembling as you looked at Steve and then Bucky. They were both silent and looked almost terrified.

"I was scared when I realized that... that..." You couldn't finish the thought. Steve and Bucky's eyes locked on yours, looking like they were waiting for something.

"I'm scared, selfish, messy, and all complicated," you continued, your voice breaking with every syllable. "I'm not strong enough to lose you both…" You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to keep your composure. "I'm selfish. To want something I don't deserve. And you might just hate me after I tell you."

You sounded so pathetic to your ears. You couldn't look at them anymore. You couldn't face them. Without thinking, you walked away, stumbling to the drawing room, where you collapsed onto the couch, curling in on yourself. You clutched your t-shirt tightly by the sides and let the tears flow freely, everything from guilt to pain to fear pouring out.

You felt Steve and Bucky both hurry towards you. Steve knelt before you, large palms rubbing your thighs to calm you.

"Look at me," Steve said, voice barely above a whisper. "Say it," his commanding tone was merely begging, pleading.

And you obeyed.

"I can't keep this in anymore, Steve. It's suffocating me. I love you both, and I'm so scared."

You said it, sealed your fate.

For a moment, there was nothing. Complete silence.

You could feel Steve's grip on your legs loosen, his hands falling away slowly as if the weight of your confession had stunned him. Then, Bucky's breath hitched from behind you. His presence shifted, the weight beside you on the couch telling you he sat beside you.

You shut your eyes, silently crying.

You did it. You messed up. Didn't you? You felt ashamed. This was the moment you feared the most. They'd never look at you the same way. You'd ruined everything.

"Do you think I'd let just anyone touch my hair?" Bucky asked, his voice low and trembling. You looked up, confused. What did that have to do with what you said?

"What?" You managed hoarsely.

"You," he said, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours. "I let you cut my hair. I hate when anyone touches it but with you... it's different. It's always been different."

"Bucky..." you whispered, but he didn't let you interrupt.

"I loved you the moment you held me close after that nightmare in Wakanda. Do you remember that? I was a mess, and you just… didn't let go. Not until I could breathe again. I broke your finger by mistake at how tight I held you." His voice broke, and he swallowed hard.

"I love Steve. I've always loved him. And then... I loved you, too. It scared the shit out of me, but it's the truth." Bucky sniffled, and continued, "Ever since Thanksgiving, you've been distant, and I was terrified, thinking I'd done something terrible and lost you forever. And it fucking hurts, sweetheart."

Your breath caught in your throat. You stood up, stumbling ungracefully as you stepped away, needing to breathe. Bucky moved behind you, his hands on your arms, steadying you. You let him hold you. He tugged you closer, your back against his strong chest, his arms winding on your stomach, letting you put all your weight onto him, effectively calming you.

Steve stepped forward, holding something small in his hand. Your eyes widened as he held up a familiar notebook.

"Do you remember this?" he asked softly.

You nodded, stunned. That's the tiny notebook you gave to him. Years ago, right after he came out of the ice.

Steve opened the notebook and flicked through the pages. Your breath hitched as you saw it filled with sketches of you, Bucky, and moments you'd shared.

"You told me to fill it with things I wanted to remember," Steve said, his voice warm and full of emotion. "But all I could think about was you. I was so scared to feel love again. I loved Bucky for so long, and then you came into my life, and I... I didn't know how to go about it."

Steve exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with Bucky. His eyes softened as he continued, "But then Bucky returned, and I realized he felt the same. I've never been very religious, doll, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't pray for this every darn day."

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound deep and reassuring. "Believe me, we'd be a mess without you," he said, gently kissing your hair. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you," Steve echoed, gently kissing your cheek.

You blinked rapidly and your mind was reeling. The world seemed to stop around you. Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat as you processed their words. But then, confusion took over.

"I... I don't understand. I can't choose," you stammered, your heart torn between the joy and the overwhelming fear of what this meant.

"You don't have to," Bucky said firmly, lips touching your right ear sensually, sending shivers down your spine. "Steve and I are a package deal. You get him, you get me, and vice versa. Take it or leave it. Actually, scratch that. Just take it."

Your lips parted in disbelief, and looked at Steve. He nodded, looking at you hopefully. You let out a nervous chuckle.

"What did you put in that sandwich? I think I'm high," you mumbled, laughing softly.

Steve smirked, his eyes twinkling joyfully. "Apart from Bucky's horribly chopped tomatoes, nothing you don't like," he teased. He crouched slightly to kiss you softly. Just a barely present touch, but it lit a fire so quickly that you trembled. He tasted perfect, just like him, soft and manly.

Bucky followed suit, twirling you in his arms, lifting you to his level, his kiss more fervent, grounding you. He tasted musky and familiar, spicy and so so him.

You pulled back, wide-eyed, your heart racing.

"Oh, boy," you whispered, a dazed smile across your face.

The distant sound of fireworks startled you, and the three of you turned toward the window. Faint remnants of flickering lights lit up the sky. The neighbors must have set the fireworks on the lake.

"Happy New Year," Steve said softly, his hand finding yours and Bucky's.

"Happy New Year," Bucky echoed, his metal arm wrapping around your waist.

Happy New Year, indeed!

And tomorrow, you'd text your aunt out of courtesy, letting her know you have visitors over, while keeping all the lewd details to yourself. Then, you'd go to the vet to check on the kitten, which the three of you decide to adopt and name her Alpine. A purrfect New Year, indeed!

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muniimyg · 8 months ago

Text

♡ extra: a little fade out?

series m.list // taglist

note: stop !!! cos like ,, why did i get teary eyed writing this LOL ... enj this little extra </3 it's their first fight/fluff/slight angst vibe as a new couple !!! mwaaaa

jungkook might lose his mind.

you’re walking toward him, weaving through the crowded tables of the bustling café near campus. it’s the type of place everyone on campus flocks to between classes. it’s almost always way too loud, perpetually short on seats, and forever smelling of coffee and fries.

his friends—jaehyun, dokyeom, and hoshi—are already mid-conversation about some chemical compound’s absurd reaction time when jungkook notices you. instantly, he freezes.

his grip tightens on the edge of his chair as you spot him and wave, your smile wide and radiant.

god, you’re the prettiest thing he has ever had.

when you reach their table, you drop your bag onto the empty seat beside jungkook’s, and lean down to greet him. your hand brushes his shoulder, lingering a second longer than needed. what can you say?

you missed him and it’s been a long day.

“hey, baby,” you say softly, your voice just for him before turning to his friends. “hi, guys!”

jungkook mumbles a “hey” back, his hand barely grazing your arm before he drops it. the faintest pink rises to his ears, though, and jaehyun catches it immediately, smirking.

“... and you must be the girlfriend,” jaehyun says, leaning back in his seat as he takes you in. “shit, you are pretty.”

“shut up,” jungkook hisses.

the guys chuckle at jungkook’s instant reaction.

“that’s me,” you say with a laugh, sliding into your seat. “and you’re the nerds, huh? jungkook talks about you all the time.”

“wish we could say the same about you,” dokyeom says with a sigh. “we had to beg him to let us meet you. don’t get why he’s gatekeeping you for… i mean, you guys have been together for a month—officially i mean. we heard all about the slow burn and him being an asshole—”

“shut up—”

“we’d like to apologize on his behalf, by the way,” jaehyun interrupts. “as nerd alchemists, we tend to suck at the whole… romance part of life.”

“that’s okay. we’re happy and together now, right? that’s all that matters.” you say, turning to jungkook with a sweet smile. he nods in agreement. “also! nerd alchemists? hilarious.”

“or ‘genius goofs,’” hoshi adds, “but only on the bad days.”

“genius goofs who almost melted the lab last semester,” jaehyun cuts in with a snort.

“hey, that was one time,” hoshi protests before pouting, recalling the slightly traumatic memory. he huffs, “... fuck you. it wasn’t my fault.”

“not entirely your fault,” jungkook corrects.

you laugh, genuinely amused, as you settle in closer to jungkook’s side.

“i like them,” you say, nudging him.

“yeah?” jungkook asks, nudging you back. “i don’t. thinking of getting rid of them—”

“oh! really?” you gasp. “can i have them then?”

the guys stop themselves from bursting into laughter. you’re quick with it and it obviously throws jungkook and his stone-cold mood off… it’s right then and there where they all see it—how good you are for him. how good he has it to be with you.

“she’s funny,” jaehyun remarks, elbowing jungkook. “good choice, man.”

jungkook shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching as if fighting a smile. “yeah, she’s alright.”

“alright?” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him with mock offense. “that’s all i am to you? you’re one to talk about being alright… what do you even have to offer me?”

“free tutoring,” hoshi deadpans, making everyone laugh.

as lunch continues, the vibe is easy. the conversation between everyone flows with teasing jokes and the occasional detour into more chemistry talk that you don’t fully understand but pretend to. it’s nice to be in jungkook’s world. it makes you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better and that’s all you really want… more of him.

as you wait for the food to arrive, you reach for jungkook’s hand under the table, lacing your fingers through his. for a moment, he lets it happen. his thumb brushing yours absently before he pulls away to grab his water.

“here,” he says casually, pushing the glass toward you.

you blink, caught off guard, but take the glass with a polite smile. “thanks.”

jaehyun leans forward, clearly amused. “so, how is he as a boyfriend? still the golden boy, or is the shine starting to fade?”

you grin, playing along. “oh, he’s great. sweet, smart, cute when he wants to be… which isn’t often… ” you glance sideways at him. “terrible at pda, though.”

jungkook blinks at you.

dokyeom snickers. “shit. classic jungkook. wouldn’t want to ruin the whole nonchalant-genius vibe, right?”

jungkook doesn’t respond, just gives a half-smile as he takes a sip of his drink.

you laugh lightly, but something about his reaction sits heavy in your chest. you keep the conversation going with the group, but the warmth from earlier feels a little dimmed now.

jungkook might lose his mind?

no.

but maybe you might.

after lunch with the nerds, you and jungkook head back to his place.

when you arrive, the guys are already sprawled out in the living room, half-buried in blankets and pillows. the plan? a casual disney movie marathon, an excuse for everyone to lounge around and argue over animated villains.

you settle on the couch next to jungkook, close enough that your thigh presses against his, and his arm is loosely draped along the backrest behind you. it’s not nothing, but the space between how you’re sitting and how you want to be sitting feels like miles.

you try to close the distance, leaning into him as the opening scene of the lion king plays, but jungkook barely reacts. he’s relaxed, sure—his legs stretched out in front of him and his eyes glued to the screen—but it’s like he doesn’t even notice the way you’re resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“are you mad at me?”

jungkook shifts, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. “no, i’m not. why?”

“feels like you are.”

“i’m not,” he tells you softly. “did i do something?”

you shrug. “i don’t know… did i do something?”

jungkook shakes his head. “no. you okay, ___?”

baby.

call me baby, please.

you nod, lips tight, and turn back to the movie. jungkook doesn’t think twice about it.

meanwhile, the others are already engrossed in their usual back-and-forth.

“oh, come on,” taehyung groans from across the room, his hand halfway into the popcorn bowl. “you guys have to agree with me. scar is fucking gaston in another universe. it’s so obvious!”

“that makes literally no sense. gaston doesn’t have a scar on his face!” jin deadpans, tossing a handful of popcorn in taehyung’s direction.

you laugh softly, trying to join in. “i mean… he’s not wrong.”

jungkook doesn’t even glance at you.

you shift, sliding your hand into his lap and letting your fingers brush against his knee. maybe this will get his attention—a tiny spark of acknowledgment. instead, he shifts slightly, just enough that you pull away, sinking into the couch with your heart dipping into your stomach.

taehyung catches it, his smirk practically a reflex.

“yah, jungkook… seriously?” he says, looking between you and jungkook. “are you two even dating? what the fuck was that?”

“what was what?” jungkook asks.

taehyung rolls his eyes. “you know what you just did. look at your girlfriend—if i can even call ehr that—she’s clearly upset at you.”

jungkook laughs it off like it’s nothing, his expression is calm as ever.

“we’re dating,” jungkook says, voice casual, like it’s obvious.

but you’re not laughing.

and taehyung is right.

you are upset.

your chest feels tight because fuck. every touch you’ve tried today has been shrugged off, and taehyung’s words cut a little deeper than you want to admit. you force a smile, your fingers twisting at the hem of your sleeve.

“whatever,” taehyung gives up.

then, just like that… you feel alone again. like no one sees you again.

like he doesn’t see you.

the others keep talking, diving into some tangent about villains in disney sequels, but the warmth you’ve been chasing all day feels impossibly far away.

it’s late by the time the movie marathon wraps up.

one by one, everyone begins to surrender to their tiredness. the once lively room is now quiet, save for the rustle of blankets and yawns. jin and namjoon head upstairs to their rooms, while taehyung and yoongi mumble something about doing the dishes before heading to bed. jimin and hobi headed out early to sleep over at their girlfriends. meanwhile, jungkook, still half-reclined on the couch next to you, looks like he’s one blink away from passing out.

his head dips once, then twice.

his lashes fluttering as his hand absently brushes against your thigh. you watch him for a moment, your chest tightening with a mix of affection and frustration.

today has not been the best day with him.

you can’t quite put the finger on why he’s so fucking infuriating today… maybe your period is coming or maybe he truly is just a fucking idiot.

when his head finally droops forward, you carefully slip away, untangling yourself from the blanket and his loose grip. his brows furrow slightly, but he doesn’t wake. you head to the entryway, grab your jacket, and slip your arms through the sleeves with slow, deliberate movements.

the door creaks slightly as you reach for your shoes, and that’s when you hear him.

“hey.”

you glance up to see jungkook standing there, rubbing at his eyes, his hair a soft, messy halo around his head. his voice is low, a little groggy, but there’s an edge of concern in it.

“where are you going?” he asks, padding toward you with bare feet.

“home,” you reply, your tone light but clipped as you tug the zipper of your jacket up. “you were out cold, and it’s late. figured i’d let you sleep.”

“hey, hey, hey.” his voice softens, and before you can move away, his hands find your waist, gently pulling you back toward him. “what’s this about?”

you keep your gaze fixed on the door, refusing to look at him.

“nothing. i just thought it’d be better if i went home.”

jungkook leans in, his arms sliding around you fully now, and his forehead dips to rest against your shoulder. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“you said you were staying the night.”

you inhale sharply, willing yourself not to get so sensitive about this. god, what are you even mad about? actually, no. what are you not mad about?

“i did, didn’t i?”

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “it’s our one-month tomorrow…”

“right,” you pull back slightly, just enough to look at him. “hey, do you think we should just break up? we can do that, you know. it’s only a month in anyway and—”

his hold on you tightens instantly.

“what?” he stares at you, the grogginess fading from his eyes as they widen in alarm. “why would you say something like that? that’s not funny.”

“i’m not trying to be funny,” you say, attempting to sound stern. you don’t though. if anything, you just sound defeated.

“i’m not following…” jungkook says, beginning to feel a burn in his chest. “why do you wanna break up with me? do you not want to be with me anymore? i swear, i thought i was making you happy. aren’t we happy—”

“it’s fine. like, if you want to break up we can do it now. we haven’t even had sex yet and so this would be less attachment to our relationship. we can still be friends—”

“don’t,” jungkook hisses. “don’t start with your psych bullshit. ___, friends? we’re horibale at that, remember? fuck, ___… and who said anything about sex? i said i’d wait. i said it doesn’t matter if you want to wait for marriage or do it tomorrow. do what you want with it, okay? it’s yours. it’s completely yours… and so am i. me being your boyfriend has nothing to do with wanting to fuck you—okay. wait. yeah, okay, fine. it does a little but it’s not why i’m with you.”

“oh,” you murmur. “right. you’re my boyfriend.”

he doesn’t say anything right away, but the way his hands stay steady on your waist makes you feel like maybe he’s finally listening.

jungkook’s eyes narrow at the sarcasm that drips from your words, and his lips curl into a frown. he steps closer to you, eyes searching yours.

“what the fuck does that mean?”

your lips tremble as you meet his gaze, the weight of everything you’ve been holding back pressing down on you. it feels like your heart is going to burst.

"it doesn’t even feel like we’re dating, jungkook," your voice barely above a whisper. yet, you can tell by the way his body stiffens that he heard every word loudly.

for a moment, there’s only silence.

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your jacket as he pulls you closer, not hard, but just enough that you can feel the warmth of him against you. his brows draw together, eyes searching your face for some kind of explanation, but he doesn’t speak.

you feel the space between you and him—how close you are, how far apart you feel.

you resist for a moment, but the way his hands settle on you—secure and soft—makes it hard to stay distant. still, your mind is racing, the thoughts bubbling up, ready to spill over.

“why’d you drop my hand today?” you ask, voice tight. “why didn’t you hold it? why didn’t you touch me during the movie? i was leaning into you the whole time, and you didn’t even—didn’t even notice.”

“i noticed.”

you pull away slightly, just enough to see his face, and you’re almost surprised to see the guilt flicker in his eyes. he opens his mouth, but no words come out at first, and then you take a shaky breath, your eyes filling with tears.

“yeah, you did… and then you shifted away. taehyung noticed that,” you continue, your voice breaking, “he saw it... you didn’t even care, did you?”

“i do care.”

“not enough then,” you whimper. “j-jungkook…”

then, the tears start to fall, and you feel them.

hot and frustrated.

your tears slip down your cheeks as you look up at him. your fists are clenched and before you even realize it, you’re hitting his chest with your palms.

“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you whisper, the emotion bursting from you all at once. “just break up with me if you’re gonna be a bad boyfriend!”

jungkook doesn’t pull away.

he lets you hit him, one, two, three times, his chest soft under your hands. and then he gently grabs your wrists, holding them, but not in a way that feels forceful—more like he’s trying to soothe you—to ground you.

“i didn’t mean to,” he says softly, his voice laced with regret, pulling you back to him.

he wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close, as if trying to keep you from falling apart. his forehead rests against yours, and he murmurs softly.

“i’m sorry,” he says.

you bury your face in his chest, taking a shaky breath.

jungkook’s arms tighten around you, holding you like he never wants to let go. you feel the warmth of his embrace, but the words spill out before you can stop them.

“it’s just... it’s hard when you’re... like that around other people. you know?” you murmur. “it’s like... i try so hard to make you feel loved and important, and you just don’t—don’t react the way i want you to.”

he’s quiet for a long time, just holding you, and you feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. when he speaks again, it’s softer, raw, like he’s letting the truth spill out too.

“it’s hard for me too,” he says, his voice tight with vulnerability. “being with you... i want to be everything you need. but i can’t always figure out how to do it, especially when we’re in public, around my friends. it’s like... i don’t want to look stupid. i don’t want to mess things up, and... i’m not used to feeling like this. like you’re... you’re all-consuming, and i can’t control it.”

you pull back slightly, looking up at him, your heart beating louder in your chest. jungkook’s eyes are full of something you haven’t seen before—rawness, honesty.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, this time more quietly. “i didn’t mean to make you feel like this, ___... i swear to god, i didn’t.” he runs a hand over his face in frustration. “i know i was… distant. but it’s not because i don’t care about you. it’s not because i was intentionally trying to be an asshole—”

“why do you act like this around your friends? like i’m some kind of... afterthought?”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours as if trying to find the right words. but it’s almost like he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally say everything he’s been too afraid to face.

“honestly? when we’re around my friends, i get this... i get this weird feeling, like i’m not good enough for you. like you’re too… perfect. you’re out of my league, to be completely honest… and i don’t know how to handle it. like i said… it’s like you’re taking over my life and i can’t control it. it’s unfamiliar to me, you know? not having control over how i feel and how things go... so i guess… i guess i push you away and i drop your hand when i shouldn’t… when i don’t even want to.”

you can feel the sincerity in his words, and for a second, the tears that had been threatening to spill fall freely. he’s so open, so raw, and it makes your heart ache.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “i won’t ever do that ever again, okay? i want to be the boyfriend you deserve. i want to show you how much i care about you, how much i really, really fucking like you. i’m really sorry i made you feel this way.”

you swallow hard, trying to make sense of it all.

it’s overwhelming, but it feels like he’s finally seeing you, really seeing you for the first time. as you compose yourself, jungkook takes this opportunity.

“so... can you take it back?” he asks, his voice hesitant. “please don’t break up with me.”

you sniff, wiping your face with the back of your hand, still unsure of everything. your heart still aches, but it’s a little less painful now. you look at him through watery eyes, and a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“okay,” you murmur, your voice still a little shaky. “but you have to be more obsessed with me, okay? or else i’m really dumping you. got it?”

“got it.”

jungkook chuckles, a soft, relieved sound, and he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before pulling off your jacket. he tosses it carelessly to the side, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a second longer than necessary, as if to keep you close.

“let’s go to bed. i’m sleepy... and i missed you all day,” he says, his voice low and warm, his hand now sliding down your arm to gently wrap around your wrist, giving it a soft tug. you let out a laugh, shaking your head as he starts to pull you toward the stairs.

“we were together all day, nerd,” you tease, looking up at him with a playful smile.

he groans dramatically, letting his head fall back with a long, exaggerated sigh. you can’t help but smile at the sight of him, so vulnerable and sweet in these moments.

“oh… i know,” he groans. “see what i mean? i sound ridiculous. baby, i miss you even when i’m with you.”

then, he’s pulling you closer. his fingers curl around your hand as his other arm slips around your waist, holding you snugly to his side.

his words hang in the air between you two, and it’s clear he’s not just saying it—he means it.

the way he holds you as he leads you upstairs, his gaze soft yet full of affection, is all the confirmation you need.

the way you two slip into bed and he wraps his body around you, breathing you in like you're his only source of air... it's what you've been craving for all day.

you two fall asleep tangled in each others embrace.

when you wake up the next day, you wake up to 30 individual flowers in small vases spread around his bedroom—one for each day you’ve been together.

jungkook kisses you good morning and holds you by the waist going downstairs. he's giggling into your skin, talking about how pretty you are.

during breakfast with the guys, he holds your hand over the table.

everyone rolls their eyes, dumbfounded by the pda…

except you, of course.

your eyes are completely on jungkook.

#bts fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook boyfriend au #jungkook fluff #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #jungkook established relationship #bts boyfriend au #bts fluff #bts angst

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