#Furiously throws table

[mydearzero]

Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice. 

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis. 

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?” 

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook. 

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way. 

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears. 

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud. 

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled. 

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table. 

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face. 

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again. 

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.” 

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair. 

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head. 

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks. 

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.  

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish. 

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable. 

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.” 

“A kiss.” 

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips. 

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.” 

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole. 

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.” 

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily. 

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall? 

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip. 

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in. 

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way. 

“Shut up.” 

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles. 

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck. 

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily. 

“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles. 

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library. 

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed. 

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge. 

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth. 

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed. 

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly. 

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry. 

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least. 

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?” 

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look. 

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed. 

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?” 

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget. 

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly. 

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…” 

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.” 

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained. 

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.” 

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy. 

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance. 

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move. 

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace. 

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you. 

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability. 

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it. 

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up. 

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door. 

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.” 

“Yes, Stiles, please!”  

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty. 

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars. 

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips. 

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform. 

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.” 

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?” 

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.” 

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra. 

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.” 

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house. 

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!” 

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual. 

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.” 

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable. 

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.” 

[biteyoubiteme]

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 

“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 

“I'm just saying…” 

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 

“No-” 

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 

“So wrong it would get you killed?” 

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 

“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 

“Next week?” 

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 

No response. 

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 

“What's your favorite scary movie?” 

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 

“They don't?” 

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 

“I'm not alone, i have you,” 

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 

“I know where one is, if you want it,” 

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 

“No huening please!” 

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 

“Kai…please!” 

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

[iinterstellaarr]

fratboy!satoru having a crush on you is kinda like burning your hand on a hot stove.

it sucks.

satoru is cocky in all meanings of the word. he’s constantly on top of tables, playing beer pong, or dangling and swinging from the chandelier in the frat house that is still up by the grace of God.

yet somehow, despite walking into class 25 minutes late and complaining about his hangover for the rest of your hour long class, he still maintains nearly perfect grades.

every girl has a crush on him, or thinks he’s the scum of the earth. every guy wants to be him and he knows this. he carries himself with such confidence that it’s not hard to see why he’s so popular.

and then there’s you.

you applied to this prestigious college in hopes of getting your degree and getting the hell out of there the first chance you got. somehow, you got in and are now dedicated to spending your next 5 years stuck in this school

and stuck with satoru.

he comes from a family of immense wealth. you were pretty sure he didn’t even need to go to college or have a job, and yet here he was in all his douchebaggy glory. everytime he walked past girls would giggle and guys would grumble

but he was focused on you.

you never made a noise when he walked past, never even looked up from the dumb tiktok’s you were watching on your phone. even when he made a spectacle in class, you wouldn’t even spare him a giggle or an eye roll. to you, it was like he didn’t even exist.

your lack of presence had somehow caught his eye, and through the flood of people that he saw everyday, he was stuck on you.

-

“i literally don’t get it.” satoru grumbled into his pillow as his roommate, suguru, rolled his eyes for the trillionth time.

“why do you care so much? it’s not like the flood of girls nipping at your heels is gonna go dry anytime soon.” suguru massaged the temples on his head, desperately trying to relieve himself from the satoru induced migraine

“it’s different! i want an eyeroll, a scoff, something!” satoru flops over on his back and looks to his roommate

“you’re annoyed because she doesn’t acknowledge your existence?”

“exactly!”

“narcissist.” satoru groaned at his roommate and pouted into his pillow once again.

“your just salty your bumble date ghosted you.” satoru claimed, and quickly retracted as a pillow was throw at his head.

-

the next class you had early in the morning made you groan as you sat down and opened your bag to grab your computer.

“is this seat taken?” your head snaps up while you meet bright blue eyes, although they were covered by dark sunglasses.

you whip your head around to the plethora of empty seats, even the ones in the back held no one, which was a miracle in itself.

“uhm, no?” you scooped up some of your items to make room for the lengthy boy as he sat down next to you. he leaned his head on his hand as he eyed you up and down.

“i don’t believe we’ve met. i’m satoru gojo, although you can just call me satoru, gorgeous.” he had a cocky grin on his face, sure that he was being charming by extending the pleasure of calling him by his name to you and by the slightest compliment.

“yeah, okay.” you nodded slightly, praying to whatever God would listen that he’d just leave you alone. his smile faltered at your dismissive tone, although he was far from done playing with you.

“what are you majoring in?” his eyes were still fixed on you, as if some omnipotent creature was whispering all the ways to make you tick, and he was listening as if it were scripture.

you rolled your eyes and spared him a glance although lacked a response as you continued to furiously type the paper that was due for this class.

after that blatant dismissal, he tried everything.

a large, very expensive looking bouquet by your dorm? he found them in the dumpster the next morning. causing a ruckus in the quad? you walked past him as if he were trash on the sidewalk. a pyramid of redbulls inside your dorm (how’d he get in?) was found in a donation box for other students who were struggling. nothing he did could ever catch your eye.

although he didn’t know the flowers you got him made you violently sneeze, so they were a hazard to keep in your living space. he didn’t know that the day he tackled suguru in the quad with the prayer of a fleeting glance, you were to focused on the mid term that was worth half your grade. the redbulls he left in your dorm just happened to be your least favorite flavor, and it probably was t healthy to drink all of those yourself. it wasn’t that you were purposely ignoring him, you just genuinely didn’t notice his foolish antics were to get your attention.

-

it wasn’t until the end of the year that satoru finally snapped.

he found you in the library, surrounded by books and half drunken iced coffee. you looked different from the girls that usually followed him. not bad different, but raw. real.

you didn’t notice him until his shadow blocked the flow of light that illuminated your books.

you looked up, sighing slightly before pulling out and earbud

“if this is about the flowers, i’m allergic-“

“get up.” his tone was different from the cocky frat boy you knew. he was nervous. nervous in your presence, nervous in the line of your sight. he looked like and insecure school boy finally talking to his crush

“excuse me?” you watched as he scooped up the books and carefully shoved them into your bag, pulling your chair out while you were still sat in it.

“i wanna talk.” he pulled you by your wrist, still holding your backpack as he made a dash for the exit

“we can’t just talk here?” your feet were clumsy following the man in front of you, considering he was a good foot taller that you.

“it’s important, just…” he paused, the words fluttered on his tounge but he bit back before it all came rushing out. “please.”

that shut you up.

he rounded the corner and shoved open the door to a long forgotten stair well.

gojo crossed his arms, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, exposing the frustration flickering in those icey eyes. “what is your deal with me?”

you blinked.

“huh?”

“i’ve tried everything. everything,” he said, voice sharper than his usual smooth tone. “you ignore me like i’m background noise. like i don’t even exist.”

you stared, silent, waiting.

“i mean, do you hate me? did i do something? am I just some frat idiot to you?” he ran a hand through his hair, pacing now. “you’re driving me insane and you don’t even care.”

“i do notice you, satoru.” his real name being slipped on your tounge caused his pacing to falter.

for the first time all year, you saw him. rough around the edges, and slightly insecure. he wasn’t satoru gojo, heir to a fortune many couldn’t comprehend and a total douchebag

he was just… satoru. a boy who didn’t know how to get the attention of someone like you without using elementary tactics.

“you don’t have to do anything dramatic to catch my eye. you don’t have to make small talk about stupid shit to get me to talk to you.”

“i see you, satoru. every over the top stunt, every weird little performance. i’ve seen it all. but the guy who leaves flowers im allergic too in front of my dorm to get attention?” you stood slowly, eyes locking with his. “that’s not who i’m interested in.”

he swallowed. “then who are you interested in?”

you leaned in just enough for your voice to hit him low and clear.

“the real you, whoever that is. it’s up to you to figure that out.”

and then you left him there, quiet for the first time in a long time.

-

the next time you saw satoru, he was just as nervous as last time. his eyes weren’t covered by his glasses and you swore you could see a glimmer of sweat drip down his forehead as he met you for the first class of the day.

“for you.” he held out a small iced coffee, the same one you had ordered for your impromptu study trip in the library.

he had memorized it.

in the small moment he saw to remember it, he had got it perfect.

“no flowers, no stupid tricks. just me.” you smiled as he handed it to you, the condensation on the cup making your hands cold and wet, but you didn’t mind.

“you remembered,” you said.

“ive been paying attention. even if you weren’t.”

you studied him. for once, he didn’t try to fill the silence. he just looked at you. nervous, hopeful, real.

and maybe he was still a little ridiculous. still loud, still dramatic in ways he couldn’t fully shake. but under all of that… there was something honest. something kind.

and maybe that was who satoru was all along.

“your still a frat idiot, satoru.”

“i’m your frat idiot.”

[sinsxo]

bedtime tantrums. —blue lock

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro.

synopsis. blue lock boys vs their tiny, angry daughter who doesn't want to sleep just yet.

cw. drabble, you guys are married and have a 1-year-old daughter, fem!reader, fluff.

wc. 1k words, not proofread.

check out part 2 and part 3!

isagi yoichi ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

“last one, okay? it’s almost time for your bedtime,” isagi said, playing one last video as he sat cross-legged in front of the tv with your 1-year-old daughter on his lap.

as soon as the video ended, he stood up with her in his arms. but she suddenly started crying, pointing at the screen.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, looking genuinely panicked. “it’s late. we’ll watch it tomorrow, okay?”

“nuuu!!” she cried, squirming and flailing in his arms.

“hey, hey, you’re gonna fall—!” he exclaimed softly, setting her down on the carpet.

she immediately sat on the ground and threw herself into a dramatic tantrum — fists clenched, flailing in every direction, face scrunched, launching into a full baby-rage mode. isagi knelt beside her, trying to calm her down until she pointed her tiny finger right at him, glaring, and started yelling some very passionate baby gibberish.

“w— what? are you scolding me?” isagi blinked, pale. he looked like she had just accused him of a crime.

she kept going, poking him in the chest with her finger repeatedly as she furiously babbled.

“you can’t do that… that’s mean,” he mumbled, trying to hug her.

she didn’t budge. still grumpy. still rebelling. isagi looked absolutely defeated as he got up and walked to the bedroom.

“she’s mad at me. she yelled at me, in baby language,” he told you, looking devastated. “i think she hates me.”

you couldn’t stop laughing as you walked over to help. after a bit of coaxing from you, she finally gave in, sniffling as you and isagi tucked her in together.

“you can’t talk to your father like that, you’ll hurt his feelings,” you whispered with a smile.

“please don’t be mad at me,” isagi added gently, letting her hold onto his finger. “we’ll watch your favourite show again tomorrow, okay?”

she smiled sleepily, laughing a little as you both kissed her forehead and quietly left the room.

itoshi rin ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

rin walked out of the kitchen with your daughter’s bottle in one hand, spotting her sitting on the floor playing with her toys.

“it’s bedtime. time to keep your toys,” he said, placing the bottle on the table.

“no!” she said, not even looking at him as she continued playing.

she didn’t even spare him a glance.

“…no?” rin repeated, sitting next to her as he gently took her hand. “it’s late. you need sleep, or you’ll be cranky tomorrow.”

“no!” she snatched her hand away and shook her head furiously.

“hey. don’t be stubborn. i’ll let you play longer tomorrow.”

“no!!” she turned toward him, scowling, and launched into some furious baby language that made her stance very clear: she was not listening. she crossed her arms and pouted, shooting him a furious glare.

“excuse me?” rin blinked, visibly offended. “what did you just say to me?”

she turned away dramatically.

“hey. look at me,” rin said, leaning over to catch her eyes. “you’re sulking now? really?”

silence, she refused to look at him.

“…fine. ten more minutes,” he said, sighing. “but you better not throw another tantrum.”

immediately, she beamed with joy and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“…cheeky little manipulator. you know i can’t say no to you or your mother,” he muttered under his breath, melting as he hugged his little girl back.

itoshi sae ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

sae turned off the tv without a word and reached out, gently tugging on his daughter’s arm.

“let’s go, it’s late. time for bed.”

“nooo papa!” she whined, pulling away. “wan’ toyyy!!”

“your mother’s gonna worry if you don’t sleep early,” he said casually. “we don’t stress mommy out, remember?”

“no papa!” she cried, running off.

sae sighed and followed her, crouching down. she pouted on the floor, arms crossed, and started mumbling angry gibberish. somewhere in the mix, he caught:

“papa bad.”

“oh? so now that you can baby talk, you’re being a brat?” he said as he scooped her up.

she squirmed and screamed in his arms, going off in his ear.

“you really are just like your mother,” sae chuckled, not even mad. he looked almost proud.

she was still crying into his neck, spewing nonsense.

"okay, okay. calm down. i’ll get you a new toy if you go to bed.” he said as he tried to tuck her in.

miraculously, she quieted down and stopped putting up a fight.

“happy now?” he teased.

she nodded seriously.

“good. i don’t think i taught you to talk like that though,” he added, raising a brow.

she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, earning a soft scoff from him.

“…unbelievable,” sae muttered before kissing her forehead.

nagi seishiro ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

nagi was lying on the bedroom floor next to your daughter while she played a game on his phone. he wasn’t doing much, just watching her while she tapped away.

he glanced at the clock. “bedtime.”

she didn’t react, ignoring him.

he lazily reached over and held her hand. “c’mon. time for bed.”

she snatched her hand back and kept playing.

“hey. i said it’s bedtime,” he repeated, gently.

no reaction.

“hey,” nagi sat up slightly. “you’re ignoring me now?”

still nothing.

so he took the phone.

“eyyyy!!” she shouted, scrambling to get it back. “papa phone!!”

“you need to sleep,” nagi replied, still calm.

“no!” she yelled. then it started — a full gibberish rant. she shouted nonsense at him like he just ruined her life.

nagi blinked.

then slowly turned to you, still in shock. “hey, babe… are you hearing this?”

you looked up from your book, grinning. “she’s fighting back?”

“she’s fighting back…” nagi muttered, wide-eyed as he bent down to pick her up. “hey, who taught you how to fight back, huh?”

she reached out and put her little hand on his face, trying to squirm away, but he just held her close to his chest and stood up.

she kept grumbling and kicking the whole way to bed. he never thought he’d lose arguments to a toddler, but here he was, completely silent as he tucked her in — still visibly disturbed by how much she'd won the argument.

as he turned to leave the room, she let out one final, dramatic pouty “hmph!”

nagi paused in the doorway, sighed deeply, and muttered, “…she’s gonna be trouble.”

© all written works are created and owned by @sinsxo. do not plagiarise, modify, repost or translate any of my content on other platforms under any circumstances.

all images, aside from the dividers, do not belong to me. credit belongs to their original creators on pinterest & xhs.

[scarletmika]

Only Good Thing : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds/Sentry x Reader

Summary: There was so much Bob regretted, so much shame riddled through his past, he didn't know what he'd see in his own shame rooms. He hadn't been prepared to see you around every corner, to be reminded of the way he'd left you behind in an effort to be what you deserved.

Warnings: angst, some fluff and happy ending, mental illness talk, depression/suicidal thoughts, violence, SPOILERS for Thunderbolts*, female reader description, drug abuse talk (if you're struggling with addiction or know someone who is, please visit drughelpline.org)

Word Count: 3,195 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

Bob had claimed it was the nicest shame room he’d encountered yet in his head, but the second that Yelena heard the distant yelling from beneath the floorboards, she knew it wasn’t all he’d cracked it up to be.

The younger version of Bob stood protectively in front of his mother, standing between her and the raging excuse of a father figure before them as he threw plates and cups off the table. His mother cried out that Bob was doing nothing but “making it worse,” even as his father reared back and landed a blow across his cheek. What surprised Yelena then was the slam of the kitchen door, and the small body that was you that came flying in, hitting back against Bob’s father.

“Leave him alone! Don’t touch him!”

She’d turned to look at Bob, and could see the tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched it all play out before him. Memories he’d relived a thousand times over in his head, even when the emptiness of the void hadn’t consumed him.

“I’m sorry,” Bob didn’t say anything to Yelena at her words, simply hiding his face and furiously wiping at his tears. Carefully, as if not to spook him, Yelena lowered herself to the ground beside him. “The girl…who was she?”

“...my best friend,”

The way his voice cracked, the way it seemed to break even further when he said that, gave Yelena pause. She eyed him for a second, before deciding that it was a topic best left alone for the moment.

“What I told you before was wrong, Bob. You can't stop it,” he still wouldn’t look at her, even as she reached over and placed her hand on top of his. “You can't contain it all by yourself. Nobody can. We have to let it out. We have to spend time together. And even if it doesn't make the void go away, I promise you it will feel lighter.”

She watched as Bob’s gaze drifted back to that missing piece in the floor, the scene replaying over and over again below them. You flying in, throwing yourself between Bob and his father time after time.

“She always made it lighter,” Bob finally said, still staring down at the younger version of you and him. “She was the only thing that made it lighter.”

“What happened?”

“I left her…” Bob’s voice broke again, another round of tears furiously wiped from his cheeks, before he looked to Yelena. “I don’t want to be here.”

Yelena was back on her feet, tugging gently on his hand to bring him up with her.

“Then try and leave with me. We can figure out a way out together,”

Leaving the Void wasn’t as easy as that, because it simply fought back. The room felt like it had gotten smaller, constraining them, throwing objects across the room in an effort to keep Yelena and Bob trapped there. The curtains came crashing down, the fabric wrapping at each end around each of their necks, cutting off their airways as both Yelena and Bob fought to breathe.

Bob wanted to fight back, he wanted to help Yelena leave. But the sound of your voice grew louder, the sound of your screaming match with his father, and all he could do was shut his eyes and accept it.

He longed to hear your voice again, and if this is what it took, he’d stay here in his own personal hell.

Air rushed back into both of their lungs as Ava appeared in the room, slicing through the curtain around their necks. John and Bucky weren’t far behind, shielding them from the objects flying around the room, before Alexei brought up the rear, ripping a pillow to shreds in what Yelena could only call ‘dramatic fashion.’

“You came for us,” Yelena breathed out, looking around at the rag-tag team that, against her better judgment, she was coming to care about.

“We’re here together, that’s what matters,” Alexei shot the thrown-together team a grin, before turning his sights on Bob. “Now, how do we get out of here?”

With all eyes on him, Bob nervously shook his head.

“I-I don’t know. As far as I know, it’s just uh, it’s just a bunch of infinite rooms,”

“Wait, you told me this was the nicest room you found,” Yelena cut in, receiving a nod from Bob in agreement. “Well…try showing us the worst.”

It wasn’t much of a plan, but it’s all the plan they had. He led the team toward the stairs that led out of the attic of his childhood home, rushing down them. Bursting through the door at the bottom of the stairs should have brought him into the kitchen, it always had.

When the team stepped through, they were standing in the middle of the street, the sun having set already. They’d all glanced at one another before turning to Bob, who stood rigid with his eyes focused down the alleyway beside them

No more than 16, and Bob looked like a mess. He’d been propped up against the dingy brick wall of the alley in back of his favorite scoring spot, whether put there by himself or his dealer, he didn’t know, but if there had been anyone else there, they were already long gone.

The ground around him was covered in empty syringes. One of his shoes was missing, long gone somewhere down the alley, most likely. Bob could barely breathe, his chest heaving as he tried to suck in enough air to breathe, simply staring off down the alleyway before him, seeing god knows what in his own head.

His view was interrupted by you, 15, maybe 16, but still a child yourself. You were kneeling down in front of him now, doing everything in your power to avoid the syringes and broken glass littering the ground around Bob’s body. Pain and sadness were written across your face, clear as day.

“Robbie…”

“Is…is that you?” his head lulled to the side, barely being able to focus on you. He laughed through his inability to breathe, something that seemed to break your heart even more. “Thought…thought you had…had practice.”

“I left it when you didn’t answer your phone,” you adjusted your school backpack on your shoulders, reaching out for him as your hands found his arms. “God, Robbie, you’re burning up. Come on, you’re coming home with me-”

“No, I don’t want to go-” Bob struggled back against you, but your grip remained firm on his arms.

“Bob, you can’t stay out here-”

“I said I don’t want to go!”

It was like slow motion, the way Bob had shoved you away, the way you’d gone clattering to the pavement behind you, hissing as you caught yourself on your bare hands. That sound, that hiss of pain, seemed to sober Bob up for even a moment, able to fully look at you in front of him. Tears immediately glistened in his eyes at the scrapes on your hands, the slight bit of blood staining your skin.

“Okay, Bob-”

“I-I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to!” he was started to panic, shaking his head wildly as his heart beat erratically in his chest. “I-I hurt you, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”

You’d leaned forward, leaning in front of him still as you grabbed him by the cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothingly over his skin as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I know. I know you didn’t, Robbie, it’s okay. It’s okay…just come home with me,”

It was John’s hand squeezing Bob’s shoulder that broke him from his stupor, that tore his eyes from the sight of teenage your dragging teenage him down the alley, high off his ass on whatever the hell meth he’d scored that night.

Bob glanced up at John, and saw the flicker of sympathy float through John’s eyes, before Bob’s own mind seemed to attack them again. The wind picked up, throwing the park benches across the street their way as Alexei led the group down the road, busting through the wall of the gas station down the road as everyone fell through.

Yelena groaned, dragging herself to her knees, as she realized there was carpet below them. She heard Bob’s breath catch as she glanced over at him, at the fear in his eyes.

“Bob?”

“No…no, no, no, please. Please, not this…”

“You’re…you’re leaving?”

The crack in your voice had Bob almost backtracking on his words, but he couldn’t. He needed to do this, for himself…for you.

Bob was barely 22, and you were barely 21 in this moment. Bob knew he was holding you back, even if you never said it. You were brilliant, a genius, and could’ve had a scholarship to any college across the country, and finally leave Florida like you always told him you wanted to. Instead, you’d stayed here, attended college right here in the state you despised, all to be with him.

Your apartment was dingy, barely passing just about every single health code the state had, and Bob knew it was killing you to keep it. He couldn’t hold down a job to save his life, his last one being a sign twirling chicken for the summer. On the other hand, you were working yourself to the bone, attending classes and working two part-time jobs just to keep a roof over both of your heads.

You did it because you loved him, because you’d loved him since the moment you’d met on the swingset in Kindergarten. Bob loved you too, more than anything else in this world…that’s why he had to leave.

“It’s not fair to you,” he’d mumbled out, scratching at his arm even though his long-sleeved sweatshirt was keeping him from rubbing the skin underneath raw. It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by you. “You…you’ve done all this for me. It’s not fair-”

“What’s not fair is to be bombarded with this the second I come back from class,” there was an edge to your voice, even as he heard it break when you took a step toward him, barely in the door. Bob stood next to the couch, his backpack beside him, just watching you. “...where would you go?”

“Malaysia,” Bob answered quietly, afraid to look at you. “There, uh, I heard about this medical study. It’s supposed to help…make you better. You…you deserve better.”

Deserve better than him. That’s what he meant, and you both knew it. He didn’t believe he deserved your love, that you deserved more than him.

You stepped up to him, letting your bag drop to the ground haphazardly, as your hands came up to cup his cheeks.

“You don’t have to leave,” your voice cracked as you pleaded with him. “I don’t care what you think I deserve- I want you, Robbie. I’ve always wanted you, no matter what challenges come with it, because I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please…please don’t leave me.”

He didn’t say anything, and you’d taken the chance to bring him in for a kiss. Bob had barely closed his eyes, kissing you back gently, before forcing himself away, having tasted the salty tears on your lips.

“Don’t…don’t wait for me,”

You’d taken in a single shaky breath.

“...I’ll always wait for you,”

It took Bucky and Yelena to pull the sobbing Bob in their hands away from the scene before them, but his eyes stayed locked onto the scene until it was fully gone. The way he’d left, the way you’d fallen to your knees sobbing, and he wanted to yell at his old self to never leave you.

He’d found himself thinking about all those moments as he sat above the Void, the manifestation of his pain and depression, trying to beat the life out of it. He’d ignored everything around him, the shouts of his new friends trying to stop him, your voice and your face the only things at the forefront of his mind.

Bob wasn’t even sure when he’d stopped punching the Void, when he’d fallen back into the arms of his friends and simply cried. The only thing that got through to him was Yelena’s voice in his ear.

“We’re here, it’s okay. She loves you, Bob…she loves you. Come back to her,”

Even in the coming weeks, since being named The New Avengers, the team couldn’t help but look upon Bob with pity. He didn’t remember what had transpired that day in the Void of his mind, but everyone else did. They couldn’t unsee it, even if they tried to, but no one had the heart to ask Bob about it, to make him relieve it all.

Yelena could see it, though, every time someone on the team made a vague mention of something that was even remotely related to you. Florida, college, the team found ways to test the waters, to see if Bob would talk about it. He never did, they could just see the shadow of pain that crossed over his face, the way he slinked away from them all like a puppy who’d just been scolded.

That’s how Yelena found herself, months later, in Tampa, Florida.

“Part of your healing journey is learning that, for every ten steps forward, there will always be another ten steps back,” the ex-Widow was leaning against the doorframe silently across the room, watching the way you addressed those sitting in the circle around you in the most gentle tone. She’d heard that tone before, the same one you’d used on Bob in each of those memories. “I’ve seen it first hand…with the man I love. Every time I believed he was getting better, every time he thought he was, we fell back into the same patterns over and over again.”

“Why do we do that?” an older man across the circle spoke up, his voice wavering. “Why do we fall back into these…these patterns?”

“Because your addictions have become a part of you,” you leaned back against the table behind you, sending the man a small smile. “Addictions are self-destructive, and because of that, they become part of us. Kicking your habit, leaving it in the past, can feel like losing part of yourself. Subconsciously, you’re afraid of change, so you fall back into patterns because in order to truly enter recovery, you have to change.”

“How’d you help him?” a younger girl, one that Yelena guessed was no older than you’d been in that Florida alley that day, spoke up quietly. “That man you love?”

The room had gone quiet for a moment before you spoke up.

“I loved him. I loved him through it all. Even when he didn’t want my love, when he felt he didn’t deserve it…I just continued to love him. I’ve never stopped,”

It wasn’t long before you ended the session, saying a personal goodbye to each and every person who had attended that day. When everyone else was gone, you were left silently organizing your desk to leave for the night, and that was the moment Yelena decided to speak up.

“What kind of degree do you need to do…stuff like this?”

You’d jumped slightly, thinking everyone had already left for the night. You cocked your head when you looked back at the blonde woman behind you, and kept an eye on her as you leaned back against your desk.

“Psychology, but there are a lot of different options,” you shrugged, and Yelena could tell your guard was up around her. She was happy about this; at least you had good survival instincts around strangers. “I wasn’t sure which field I wanted to go into, but Psychology offered a lot of different options.”

“So what, loving this…’ex’ of yours sent you down the addiction counseling track?”

Yelena saw you bristle at her comment, standing up straighter as you eyed her.

“Maybe…I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Yelena Belova,” the blonde introduced herself finally, with a small smirk. “Part of The New Avengers.”

It could’ve been a lie, but something in your head clicked, having seen a headline days ago about The New Avengers. You believed her, surprisingly.

“Sorry, guess I didn’t recognize you,” your shoulders relaxed at the information, as you shrugged. “I don’t watch the news much anymore, but I thought I saw something about that. Congratulations, I guess.”

“Thanks, it’s…new territory,” Yelena replied.

There was silence for a moment before you spoke.

“And what is it that an Avenger wants with me?”

Yelena paused, trying to find the right way to broach the subject.

“Well, the simple answer would just be…Bob,”

Bob found himself spending a lot of time in the common room of the new tower in New York, the one still slightly under renovation. Most of the floors were done, but Valentina’s construction crews were still working on a lot of other ones. Bob found the common room the quietest, depending on the time of day and where the rest of his new friends were. He enjoyed the view of the city, of watching the cars down below as they moved throughout the city.

There was a knock across the room as Bob turned on his heel, smiling softly as Yelena stood in the doorway across the room. He cocked his head, seeing the grin on her face widen, before she stepped to the side.

“...Robbie?”

His breath caught in his throat the second he’d laid eyes on you. You, the only person he thought of day in and day out. You, the only good thing he’d ever been given in life.

The woman he’d left behind, his biggest regret.

Bob met you halfway across the room, as if on autopilot, and your shaking hands immediately found his face. Bob’s eyes shut for a second, leaning into the touch he’d missed for so long, before looking at you.

“Are you…are you real?”

You nodded, trying to push down the sob threatening to escape from deep inside of you.

“I’m real,” your voice was shaky, as were your hands, he could feel it against his skin. “I’m real, baby, I promise.”

“I left you,” a sob escaped Bob, his own shaky and nervous hands finding your waist as he gripped you, desperately trying to ground himself in that moment with you. “I left you- I-I’m so sorry-”

You shushed him, shaking your head over and over.

“Don’t apologize, Robbie. You never have to apologize to me,” a small laugh of disbelief left you in that moment. “You’re here…you’re okay…you’re okay, right?”

Bob wasn’t sure what the answer to that question really was. Was he okay? No, and he probably wouldn’t be for a while. But in this moment, with the only good thing he’d ever had back in his arms…

“I’m okay…I’m okay,”

You’d pulled him into a kiss without another moment of hesitation, one he gladly reciprocated as you both cried. The second you’d pulled away for even a moment, Bob had buried his head in your neck, sobbing as he held you as tightly as humanly possible, mumbling the same thing over and over.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

[irisintheafterglow]

the long-awaited part 2 to this drabble

"can i get an extra large of the black shirt?"

"of course, give me one moment. i'll be right with you," you reply with robotic politeness over your shoulder as you shove a cardboard box of collectible hats behind the tablecloth. foot traffic has significantly slowed, allowing you to take care of some inventory tasks that were hard to complete when you were bombarded with requests for the limited-edition holographic poster boasting the olympics' host city. you stand from your crouching position, grab an extra-large from the crumpled pile, and finally turn to face your customer.

the customer wearing a surgical mask with two black moles above his eyebrow. you suspect his jacket is the same one that stopped everyone in their tracks earlier in the day, when you obliviously asked him to walk you past a creep.

men's volleyball team - sakusa kiyoomi.

"well?" sakusa asks after a long moment of awkward silence, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice at your shock. "are you gonna hand me the shirt or do i need to grab it myself?"

"you...you!" your senses come slamming back into you like a freight train and you're suddenly overcome with a mix of embarrassment and indignance. "why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"you never asked," he says with a shrug and a teasing glint in his eyes. the shirt stays tight in your grasp, if only because the feel of the fabric is the one thing reassuring you that this interaction was truly happening. "plus, you seemed a little preoccupied with other things." you nod dumbly in lieu of answering and fish a paper bag from below the table.

"my boss just about had a heart attack over your damn back," you inform him while you drop the shirt into the bag. you don't bother charging him for it, seeing as he's one of the athletes and all, and you'd prefer for him to forget you exist as quickly as possible.

"i don't know what the big deal is. it's just a jacket."

"'just a jacket,' sure," you scoff, "and you're just some guy throwing a ball around." the small printer next to the register makes a whirring noise as it attempts to dispense a receipt, only for it to jam and print incomprehensible blots of ink. you curse your shitty luck under your breath.

"everything okay?"

"apparently my brain isn't the only thing that's broken right now," you mutter, and you're surprised when he breathes a quiet laugh. "don't bask in my suffering."

"i'll bask in whatever i find funny, thanks," he shoots back and you glare in spite of your furiously warm face. "what happened?"

"the printer broke. it's been on its last legs all day," you frown. you're too busy trying to remember how to replace the paper roll to notice how he glances around before deciding to remove his mask and tuck it into his pocket. when you look up next, your face goes from warm to burning. who knew your one-time bodyguard was also the prettiest man you'd ever laid eyes upon? "you know what? you can just take the bag, i wasn't going to charge you anyway."

"why would i do that? you're not doing your job very well if you just let me steal a shirt." oh, so he thinks he's funny. from what you'd watched in brief clips of his interviews, sakusa seemed too stoic to have any ounce of humor in his body; yet, here you were, getting teased by a god-tier athlete about breaking the register at your summer job.

"it's not stealing, it's...gifting," you correct slowly. "i made you a promise, remember? you made sure i didn't get kidnapped in broad daylight, and i give you a shirt in return. simple."

"but i need a receipt," he retorts dryly.

"why? just take the bag, please," you say a little forcefully, expecting him to take the hint and leave. your first mistake, however, was challenging an olympic volleyball player to a competition of wits and patience.

"no, i don't think i will," he replies, pushing the bag back across the table to you. "a receipt, one more thing, and i'll go."

"well, you're gonna be here for a little bit because i don't know how i'm supposed to get you a receipt when the printer is broken," you surrender with no idea what he was trying to do. "i won't apologize, though, because you could just take the bag and go."

"allowing me to steal and refusing to apologize. gold star customer service." his sarcasm pulls a sudden, ugly bark of laughter that seems to increase the temperature of your face even more. "hmm. cute."

"what?"

"nothing. no receipt, then?"

"like i said, unless you wanna wait until my manager comes down from the balcony level merch stand and fixes the printer, you can just take the shirt and go. i appreciate you walking me earlier, really, so it's no hassle for me if one measly shirt goes missing."

sakusa opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but suddenly snaps his head to the side in the direction of a bright camera flash. one flash turns to four, and he hastily pulls his mask back over his face, cursing under his breath. you watch, perplexed, as his cocky bravado retreats just in time for a half-dozen journalists to cut around the nearest security guard and surround him. in a blink, microphones and cameras are forced into his face and questions in six different languages are hurriedly spewed at him. if you weren't already reaching across to put some distance between him and the tabloid writers, you wouldn't hear him mutter---

please get them away.

"alright, we're done here," you announce to no one in particular. your voice is more commanding than you expected it to be, enough to make the reporters pause and give you an opening to grab the crook of sakusa's elbow, beelining for the staff-only door. the guard posted there is quick to open the door for you and shut it, effectively cutting off the growing horde of journalists. "are you okay?" you ask as you continue to lead him toward what you remember as the nearest quiet break room. you don't have time to think about the flex of his arm under your hand or how he follows you with absolute trust.

"yeah," he answers curtly, his irritation obvious but seeming to diminish the longer you're holding his arm. you reach the empty linoleum-lined room and unlatch your fingers from him to shut the door, feeling a void-like sensation that you can't figure out. "sorry about that," he says to fill the tense silence after you're no longer shoulder-to-shoulder.

"don't worry about it. we're even now," you reassure him and that makes his shoulders relax a little bit. "you need water? a snack? day-old coffee that could probably burn through metal?"

"no, just some peace," he sighs, exasperatedly collapsing into the nearest uncomfortable chair.

"i see." you blink and suddenly feel like you're intruding on his space, fitting in like an elephant in a shoebox. "uh, i'll leave you here and make sure no one else comes--"

"i'd prefer if you stayed," he cuts in and you pause, your hand hovering above the door handle. "if you're able."

"are you sure?"

"only if you can," he says too quickly to be normal, avoiding your eyes. "you don't need to if you don't want to." you want to laugh at your situation, being stuck in an empty room with the hottest man you've ever laid eyes upon, and your nerves are more heightened than a deer in headlights. (you don't know that he's ridiculously embarrassed that the one time he talks to someone he's interested in, it's interrupted by cameras)

"i can stay, yeah," you manage and he's visibly relieved at your answer, at ease enough to again peel off his mask. his annoyance seemed to dissipate in the course of your short conversation, and an odd expression of contentment is its replacement. "you'll have to explain to my manager why i had to take off early, though."

"breaking the printer, refusing to apologize, and abandoning your shift. you cause a lot of problems, evidently," he teases when you settle into a metal chair beside him.

"only around you, evidently," you quip and are rewarded by the tiniest pull at the corner of his mouth. "i'm sorry i wasn't able to get you that shirt, though...and your precious receipt." he shrugs.

"don't really need either anymore."

"how so?"

"hunting down the shirt was just a way to talk to you again," he declares like he didn't even notice how his statement made your face heat once more. he notices, just like he noticed how you stuttered every time he started a conversation with you, how you smile and laugh like an idiot when he says something that catches you off guard, how your fingers felt electric at every point where you held his elbow. "and the receipt was to ask you to write your number, but i guess i can just ask now if you wanna grab dinner."

when you say yes, he hopes you can't tell just how much he already likes you.

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[cute-sucker]

you loved your little routine with rafe

it always included a quick snuggle with him in your bed before he went to work. most of the time you would hope that he wouldn't leave to early before you could kiss him softly. he would always scrunch up his eyebrows before giving you scowling and tell you to stay safe. after that he'd put on his sunglasses and off he was. you felt like a real housewife as you leaned against the patio railing, watching his truck become smaller and smaller. you would stay there for a while, soaking up the fresh air in your white bathrobe.

really, the morning kiss was one of the reasons you woke up to see him go.

there was something soft about the way he looked at you in the morning. it was all creases and a low murmur about being late to work as you scrambled to get him closer. after that he'd open his steely eyes, and then chuckle to himself—you'd be stuck to him so close that he couldn't barely move.

then the two of you would brush your teeth. you'd glance up at him, his focused face as he furiously scrubbed. he would always look at you earnestly as if he was sneaking small looks. you would always catch him and laugh wide with toothpaste in your mouth. then rafe would grab you and tell you stay still while he changed. there would be this relaxed look on his face as if he couldn't believe what he was in.

obviously, you'd be doing your skincare routine before he popped in again, as you gently rubbed at your face before seeing the way he was wearing his work polo, and a easy going smile on his face.

then came the part you liked the most. the part where it felt like it was a fairy tale. the part where your heart was swiped off the floor, as you would pucker up your lips, on your tippy toes as he gave you a gentle kiss. he would taste all minty, and as you grabbed him to get him closer to you—he'd groan in your mouth. he was all yours, and just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line as you got what you wanted. it was the life you had always wanted.

now the morning kiss was important. it was something that needed to be in your routine. or else you felt everything else would come falling down. and that all started with the morning things went wrong. you wake up finding his side of the bed cold, soft creases on the comforter next to you, and you felt like throwing up. as you got up, you spot him.

he was grinning at you, "sleeping beauty is awake. did you, uh, get enough sleep?"

you gaped at him, before putting a reassuring hand on your chest, "what are you doing?"

he gave you a confused look, while tucking his coller. you felt all stuffy in bed with your hair stuck up as he walked in circles getting ready.

"shit, don't worry about it. i'm just getting ready to go do some business," then he smiled, kneeling down to brush a tendril of hair out of your face, his voice a gruff whisper, "i'll be back soon. alr' get your nails done or whatever you want." then rafe grabbed some money off the dresser, and then gently put it on your makeup table.

then he was gone.

and from there on the whole day went wrong. or at least thats what it felt like. you stubbed your toe on the way getting up, ran out of flour to make pancakes. you lost your favorite gym set, and then after your favourite nails place was shut down. to make things worse, the women at the ice cream place gave you one scoop instead of the two scoops you desperately needed.

you came home tired, heaving as you put your bags down. nothing was right. everything felt wrong. you jumped onto the couch, staring at the celling, and somehow you felt your fingers travelling to your lips that never got the kiss you had every morning. it was a far stretch you knew, but somehow you felt emptier not spending the morning with rafe.

as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself pacing the living room, unable to sit still. you needed to see rafe, you needed him to put his arms around you and kiss your forhead. just as you seem to get ready for bed, you heard the familiar rumble of his truck pulling into the driveway.

you rushed to the window, peering out to see him stepping out of the vehicle. Relief washed over you, but it was tinged with frustration from the day's chaos.

the door opened, and you heard rafe's steps as he walked up the stairs. he walked in looking tired, but his face lit up with a smile when he saw you. “hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, setting his keys down on the table.

and just like that everything came crumbling down, "rafe. everything went wrong today. it was awful," you murmered, and suddenly you crossed the room to wrap your arms after him. he rubbed your back gently, jerky motions as he played with the strings of your hair.

he pulled back slightly, looking down at you with concern. “what happened?”

you recounted the day's mishaps—the stubbed toe, the lack of flour, the missing gym set, the closed nail place, and the disappointing ice cream. as you spoke, he listened intently, his thumb gently rubbing your back. but the more you talked, the more petty you felt, until finally, you blurted out, “and all of this happened because you didn’t kiss me this morning!”

rafe blinked, taken aback. there was a cruel quirk in his mouth as he tilted his head, “do you hear yourself? that sounds crazy. you think everything went wrong because i didn’t kiss you?"

"yes!” you exclaimed, even though everything in you was screaming no. it was just a bad day, you knew it but you ruined it. now you could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “our routine got broken, and it just set off a chain reaction. that kiss... it’s like my good luck charm. without it, nothing goes right.”

"jesus," he looked tired looking back at you, "alright now. i promise i won't skip it. i swear i'll kiss you every morning," then he tilted your chin trying to look at you properly. you felt a bit stupid, biting your lip.

you nodded, sniffling a bit. “i'm being silly. sorry. i just needed something to blame and that just happened to be you.” now you felt even worse, looking at him for the green light.

"arh, listen now, i'm gonna turn on the tv and we're gonna order some food and forget about this, okay? it's stupid," he groaned, before pulling you in closer.

"you wanted a kiss?" he grumbled, "heres a kiss."

then he pulled you in, and you felt all of your worries float away.

[trulyumai]

a break in the night

pairing: Emperor Geta / Wife! Reader

synopsis: no one knew just how much the emperor cared for his wife, after all, he hid it so well. how could anyone see such a show of anger coming? and over your wellbeing no less…

warnings: cussing, yelling, anger, angst.

Enjoy the story!

No one expected an invasion in the night. No one heard the trespassers skulk about the grounds, enter the halls and find the emperors chamber with ultimate ease.

It raised questions.

How did they get in so easily?

How did they find the chambers?

What made them target you?

Geta was hardly in his personal quarters, mostly, he sat out in his studies— just by the library and planned. His men would be by his side, offering the best advice and protection they possibly could while you would be away wandering the grounds.

At dusk, you would find your dear husband, kiss his cheek and ignore his comments about such a display before heading to retire for the night. “goodnight, my love,” you whispered.

The name was always changing, but it always gravitated towards some loving endearment. It made Geta scowl. Made him want to rip out his own heart for how it seemed to flutter and skip by such simple phrases.

Geta watched you go and tightening his fists before eyeing the map displayed across most of the table in front of him.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

He hadn’t meant to stay out so late.

His eyes were heavy, little slits amongst the darkened room. Leaning on his hand, his jewelery began to feel uncomfortable, it itched at his skin a little too much.

Getting angry the emperor ripped off his rings before carelessly throwing them amongst the objects upon the table. “Fucking—"

Furiously getting up, the goblet at his side fell down the ground with a loud clatter. He had to concentrate.

On the plans.

The invasion.

The war he was suppose to be winning.

Screams, horrible fear induced screams erupted, echoing throughout the halls, the corridors that made about the secured building.

Geta’s head snapped back so fast his vision doubled. Usually, he would leave such a predicament to his guards.

But he recognized that pitch, that voice.

It couldn’t be?

“Wife!”

With his hand pushing his figure off the table, he ran. Bolted and turned. Pushing anyone, everyone out of the way until he reached the cracked door of his solitary.

He hasn’t even realized his guards were missing, not at their usual place by his side.

“Wife!” He called, already pushing the door open. This feeling was new. It made his fingers shake, his knees weak and his mind numb.

He couldn’t lose you already. Not when he was so early in his reign. Not when you doted on him so. Not when he barely got to love you in return.

A mumble called out with a voice so light Geta doubted himself upon hearing it. With furrowed brows he craned his neck, to where such a sound emitted.

And there you were.

Clutching your neck with a tight, bloody grip.

His lips, his face, flinched with such a sight. He just stood there, in the middle of the room like some bystander.

“G-Geta,” you felt so cold. It was odd, because usually, this room ran overwhelmingly warm. Especially now, with candles lit in every direction. Your husbands eyes were so wide, the white of his orbs shined bright against the flickering lights as his hand lightly shook at his side. You were trying to be strong, to not pass out, or cry in desperation.

But seeing your husband, who was usually as distant as a stranger, look at you so… scared, made you weak.

Weaker than the blood loss had made you.

Swallowing down the spit that had gathered, Geta rushed forth, descending down to get a better look at you.

“Let me see, let me—,” your hand moved, slumped down against the floor in a solid maroon color.

The wound started at the base of your neck, to the curve of your shoulder. A sloppy, rushed cut. Jagged and oozing with vast amounts of blood.

“I’m scared,” your eyes leaked with a teary wetness. It trailed down your cheeks until it met with the bloody mess upon your body.

Geta shushed you, taking a solid grip of his robe before ripping it with a strong tug. The material gave away easily against the pressure and it found home upon the junction of your neck.

It smelled so comforting that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and whimper at the firm pressure.

“I’m going to carry you, little wife, don’t close your eyes.” No longer wasting time, the man did just that.

He picked up your frame like nothing, but the action let out a pulsing fiery pain from the wound, earning a loud cry to spill from your lips. Geta frowned, mumbled some incoherent apology as his legs skidded across the stone floors.

Your head bobbed as the emperor picked up his pace, his voice sounded as if water blocked your ears. It was muffled—uneven.

Noticing your slackened form and droopy eyes, Geta let out a desperate cry. “Stay with me. We’re almost there.”

“I’m sorry, Geta” his robe scratched against your cheek. So rough, so soft at the same time.

“Don’t be daft, just stay awake!” Geta couldn’t help but keep glancing at you. You and your blinking eyes, that tired, bloody smile.

“Please, forgive me,” sticky fingertips met with the man’s cheek, blood stuck instantly to his pale skin.

“I love you.” The fingers went limp, they dragged down the emperors face leaving a thin line of blood that went towards his chin.

“Stop! Wife, love, please!” His breath grew heavy and his legs shook. Letting out whimpers and moans the man finally had the left wing in sight.

A healer, a healer, a healer—

Bursting through the first door, Geta came to his knees, with you still protectively held in his arms.

Out of breath, the man’s words were chipped and uneven.

“Healer— my wife— now!”

The people in the room dispersed, guards left their post in search for the accuser, the citizens left all together, in fear of seeing such a weakened display, and the healers gathered together, to take the empress from Geta’s hands.

“My lord,” an older white haired gentleman bowed before the orange haired ruler. His hands placed politely before him, he smiled sympathetically at the emperor.

“We will need to remove her from your hold and begin immediately—”

“No.”

Confused expressions emitted through the healers, the elderly man furrowed his brows as he wearily glanced at the bloodied couple.

“No.. my lord?”

“You will do it here. Now.”

“In your.. lap?”

A look of contempt was all that was given, before the white haired man nodded along. Urgently talking amongst his peers. They grabbed sutures, herbs, any medicinals that could possible help, were taken and placed before the two.

“We will begin now, my lord.” A nod was received, Geta’s eyes never strained from your face. He studied each and every freckle, looked upon your tear stained cheeks and down to your grim looking cut.

It would surely scar.

A growl broke out between his lips, startling the helpers in the vicinity.

The fireplace emitted the room in light, graciously allowing the healers to patch up their empress in a lit and warm room.

But such a light had nothing against the burning embers that raged within Geta’s eyes.

For there will be death, that much he was sure.

[drewswife]

summary: you and your bestie just got from dinner and you met your celebrity crush (Drew Starkey)

warnings: fluff, fangirling, you being a blushing mess

The restaurant buzzed with the low hum of satisfied diners, the clinking of glasses, and the murmur of conversations. You and your bestie, Sarah, were just finishing up a shared plate of molten chocolate lava cake, reminiscing about the disastrous double date Sarah had been on the previous night.

"… and then, get this, he starts talking about his extensive collection of porcelain thimbles!" Sarah exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. You giggled, shaking your head in amused disbelief. Suddenly, a hush fell over a small section of the restaurant.

You glanced up, noticing a ripple of excitement spreading through the crowd. "What's going on?" you wondered aloud, but Sarah was already craning her neck, eyes wide.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's Drew Starkey." Your heart skipped a beat. Drew Starkey. Your celebrity crush. You'd spent countless hours watching his movies, swooning over his interviews, and plastering his pictures on your bedroom wall in high school. You couldn't believe he was in this small, cozy restaurant in Chicago.

You tried to play it cool, casually glancing in his direction. He was even more handsome in person. His smile was dazzling, his eyes sparkled with warmth, and his laughter was infectious. He was sitting with a group of friends, engaged in an animated conversation.

"Let's go over and say hi," Sarah nudged you playfully, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Are you crazy?" you hissed, blushing furiously. "I can't just go up to him. What would I even say?"

"Just be yourself," Sarah shrugged. "Tell him you're a fan. Compliment his work. Ask for a selfie. You'll regret it if you don't. "You hesitated, your mind racing. On one hand, even briefly, the thought of meeting him was thrilling. On the other hand, you were terrified of coming across as awkward or starstruck. You imagined yourself tripping over your own feet, spilling your drink on him, or worse, babbling incoherently about your undying love. "Come on," Sarah urged, pulling you to your feet. "Let's do this." Before you could protest further, Sarah was leading you towards his table. "Excuse me," she began, her voice surprisingly steady.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. You felt your cheeks flush crimson. "Hi," he said, flashing a disarming smile. "We're huge fans," Sarah continued, beaming. "My friend here, Y/N, she's especially obsessed. She's seen all your movies like a million times."

"It's nice to meet you both," he chuckled, his eyes lingering on yours licking his lips. You managed a shy smile, your heart pounding in your chest. "We don't want to disturb you," Sarah said, "but would you mind if we got a quick picture?"

"Of course," he agreed readily. He stood up, towering over you. He smelled amazing, like a mix of sandalwood and something subtly spicy. You felt a flutter in your stomach.

You squeezed between Drew and Sarah, trying to calm your nerves. He put his arm around your waist squeezing you and pulling you closer making you blush, and you could feel the warmth of his touch through your jacket. You held your breath as Sarah snapped a few photos.

"It was lovely meeting you," he said, his eyes meeting yours again winking at you. "Enjoy the rest of your evening." "You too," you whispered, still slightly dazed. As you returned to your table, Sarah was practically bouncing excitedly.

"Oh my god, we just met Drew Starkey!" she squealed. "And he put his arm around you! I'm so jealous! you lucky bitch" You couldn't stop smiling. You couldn't believe it had actually happened.

taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: was bored lol enjoy!

more

[rainyhideoutnight]

part 2 of this cus i can't stop thinking about butch nat. cw. fluff/smut, strap on, oral sex, fingering. dom!nat, sub!reader. mdni.

𐙚 nat fixes everything around the house. even the car. you secretly get so turned on when she's fixing something, watching the muscles on her arms flex and hearing her groans of effort. you ask for her help even for the easiest and most simple things, just so you can watch her work. "baby, the bedroom's light bulb burned out :(" "so change it...?" "i can't :(". at this point she's starting to get suspicious.

𐙚 she loves when you're wearing lipstick and give her a big kiss that leaves a mark on her skin. it makes her so giddy inside.

𐙚 one time you buy one of those little instant cameras. when you take a photo of you two together to show her how it works, she's acting all bored. "i don't get why you'd buy that – you can already take photos with your phone." but she can't stop staring at the small polaroid you just took, you're smiling so sweetly in it. so she secretly takes it once you're asleep to put it in her wallet, and takes a look at it every day when she's at work like a soldier who went to war. she acts all dumb when you ask her about the photo since you can't seem to find it anywhere.

𐙚 nat enjoys teasing you way too much, so she'll randomly start hollering and whistling like a pervert when you bend down to pick up something, even if it was completely innocent. "damn, does that ass have an owner?" as you blush furiously.

𐙚 such a sap when she's sleepy. her alarm has been going off for a minute and instead of waking her up, you woke up first. "nat, wake up, c'mon." you grumble softly, tapping her arm which is wrapped around your chest, as she cuddles you from behind. she groans but doesn't open her eyes yet, tightening her grip around you. "i don't wanna go to work. wanna stay with you." she murmurs and you have to stiff a laugh at her overly whiny tone, a stark contrast to her usual collected demeanor.

𐙚 nat's set on taking you out on dates at least twice a month. you're giggling and kicking your feet once you find out she's taking you to a nice restaurant, meaning you'll get to see her in a suit. you think she looks sooo handsome as you stare at her across the table at the restaurant, as she fixes her watch on her wrist.

𐙚 subtle dominance....... putting her hand on your lower back as you walk, opening doors for you, holding your bag for you, bringing you random gifts, kissing the back of your hand everytime she thinks you look pretty...

𐙚 goes crazyyy for pussy. your pussy. no matter how tired she is when she gets back from work, being between your legs is like a piece of heaven on earth. tries to take it slow at first to tease you (it's more torture for her than you), but gets pussydrunk soo quickly, wrapping her arms around your legs and moaning against you as her warm tongue laps at the wetness that seeps out. it's so hard to pull her away. "baby, please... i'm too tired..." "one more, princess. just give me one more." she begs after she's given you six orgasms already. leaves marks all around your inner thighs too.

𐙚 thinking about her strap..... maybe she comes back from work, wearing her suit, and when you walk over to greet her with a kiss you feel something hard against your leg. she's been packing all day. she smirks at the shocked look on your face and makes you get down on your knees. she looks right into your eyes as she slowly takes off her belt, throwing it carelessly to the ground which makes you even more wet. she pulls down her pants to reveal the bulge against her boxers, "you know what to do." and oh boy, you go ham on that thing. after you suck her off she definitely makes you ride her on the couch, her fingers digging into the flesh of your ass to guide your movements, her cold rings a stark contrast to your warm skin. "yeah, just like that. you look so good bouncing on my dick."

𐙚 secretly extremely possessive. she doesn't like showing it because she doesn't want you to think she's crazy or something, but sometimes it just becomes too much to handle. imagine you're both at the mall and a man walks up to you to ask for some directions, but begins making small talk with you, maybe thinking you're with your friend. you get visibly uncomfortable but are too shy to tell him to leave, while nat has this cold look that nearly pierces through his soul. "she's with me." she cuts him off abruptly, looking as if she was ready to pounce on him. later she fingers you roughly in the backseat of your car, feeling way too pent-up and jealous to wait until you got home.

a/n. posting this before locking in and writing a few reqs i got!

[azzibuckets]

dessert [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: prompt from ⛱️ anon! basically paige and azzi after the louisville game and blondie can’t keep her hands or eyes off her gf lmfao. a bit more suggestive than my other fics so

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

Azzi is walking with Allie when she feels hands brush over her waist. Paige’s breath fans across her cheek, warm and minty. “You all good, ma?”

Azzi’s cheeks turn a furious red at the half disgusted, half teasing look the freshmen sends her way as she hears the nickname. “Not a word,” she warns Allie, whose stifling a laugh. Half annoyed, she grabs Paige’s hand and pulls her away from hearing distance, so that they’re trailing behind the rest of the team as they walk to the dining hall.

Paige’s hands sidle lower, to her lower back, fingertips getting dangerously close to her ass. “Just say the word and we can go home,” Paige murmurs. “Can tell that knee’s bothering you.”

“It’s not the only thing bothering me,” Azzi replies with a roll of her eyes, but the way she shivers against Paige’s touch is enough for both of them to know she’s lying.

“Looked so good tonight, ma,” Paige husks, lips featherlight against Azzi’s shoulder. “Got me all distracted on the court. Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” Seeing Azzi on the court was still an unfamiliar but welcome sight for Paige. For some reason, she’d been entranced by Azzi’s neck gleaming with sweat, the tensing in her muscled arms and the dimpled smile taking over her lips when they made eye contact during the free throws. It was exhilarating, being able to play together after a year, but had also stirred up something deep inside of her.

Azzi lets out a breathy laugh, because if there’s one thing she loves, it’s when Paige talks to her like she's a princess. She reaches behind her, tangling her fingers with Paige’s for a brief second as the older girl presses her hips against hers. Azzi lets out a gasp at the sudden contact of their bodies aligned together, before Paige shifts away before anyone can see. “Your knee hurt?”

“It’s okay. Just aches a little.”

Paige’s fingers skim down her arm, scratching lightly at her wrist before slowly tracing the lines in her palm. “Gonna make you forget all about it, baby. Gonna make you feel so good.”

Azzi indulges in the vision for a second, of Paige’s hand slipping past the waistband of her sweats, of her jawline flexing as she ea-. But she forces herself to clear her head. Now was not the time or place to get horny. “Paige.” Azzi suppresses a grin, giving her girlfriend a playful shove. “You’re such a flirt.”

Paige wraps her arm around the younger girl’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Only for you.” Azzi thinks Paige is done before the older girl’s hand drops to her ass and gives it a light squeeze, dropping away before anyone can notice.

“Paige!”

Once they grab their dinner, Azzi makes sure to plant herself between Jana and Kaitlyn. If their walk over was any indication, she knew Paige wouldn’t be able to control her hands. On the other end of the table, Paige is getting her ear talked off by KK, but all she can think about is last night. She swallows at the memory of Azzi unfolding beneath her, hips grinding and bucking against her fingers, the sweat gleaming on her temple and her eyes fluttering shut as Paige had whispered into her ear. Fuck. She’s so fucked.

Azzi’s talking to Kaitlyn when she looks up and makes eye contact with the blonde. Completely oblivious to the filthy thoughts going inside Paige’s head, she flashes a smile, honey sweet and dimpled. It should be criminal, the way Paige’s heartbeat starts skyrocketing when Azzi gives her a second of attention. Paige smirks back, dragging her tongue over her bottom lip.

“Oh my god.” Ice’s voice breaks Paige from her thoughts. “The eye fucking is insane, Paige.”

The table immediately breaks out into raucous laughter as Azzi blushes furiously, burrowing into her hoodie away from everyone’s eyes. “Aight,” Paige says, a slight smile on her face. “Y’all shut up with it.”

Thankfully the conversation returns back to normal, albeit KK wiggling her eyebrows and making kissy faces whenever Paige glances her way. Picking up her phone, she shoots a text to Azzi.

P: you look good in my sweater

P: you’d look better without it tho

P: I stopped at victoria’s secret yesterday

P: check your closet when you get home

She makes eye contact with Azzi again before her eyes flit to her phone. Azzi clears her throat, looking around before checking her messages, her phone hidden close to her chest.

P: let me take care of you tonight

P: imma get you right

P: Ok i was tryna be sexy but like can we pls go to the bathroom rn

Azzi’s eyebrows arch higher with each message before she quickly slams the phone down. Clearing her throat, she looks away, her cheeks returning to that pretty shade of red that Paige loves. After a few moments, she dares to look up at Paige, who winks at her. My girlfriend flirts like a 7 year old boy, Azzi thinks remorsefully to herself. And I fall for it each time. Azzi picks up her phone and texts back.

A: We are not fucking in the bathroom at team dinner.

Paige groans.

KK’s stuffing food in her mouth as she observes their back and forth, of Paige smirking at her phone and intently waiting for Azzi’s reaction. Eyes widening, she moans. “First the eye fucking, now y’all are sexting.” KK buries her head in her hands. “My parents are babymaking 24/7.”

Once again, the table dissolves into laughter, and for the rest of the night, Azzi stubbornly refuses to meet Paige’s eyes.

Soon everyone returns to Paige, Allie, and Jana’s apartment. Everyone’s split into small groups, involved in side conversations. Paige immediately makes a beeline for the kitchen, motioning for Azzi to follow her.

“What do you want?” Azzi asks once they’re alone, a fond smile already on her face.

Paige taps the counter. “Hop on.”

“Madison.”

Paige’s hands circle Azzi’s hips, pushing up her sweater to reveal her belly piercing. Eyes glued to her abs, Paige begs, “Please, baby. Just wanna take care of my girl.”

With a roll of her eyes, Azzi hops on the counter. Paige’s hands slide slowly down her legs, wrapping them around her own waist. “Gotta check on your knee.”

“There’s not much you can do by just looking at it,” Azzi teases Paige as she stares at her knee, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Shut up.” Paige pokes Azzi in the chest.

“C’mere.” Azzi grabs Paige’s hands, bringing her near to kiss her.

“How was dinner?” Paige smooths down a stray baby curl as she cups Azzi’s jaw in her hand.

“Okay. Wanted dessert after.”

“We can get ice cream later?” Paige suggests, resting her hands on Azzi’s thighs and squeezing lightly.

Azzi doesn’t respond, but the heaviness of her breaths and her closed eyes tells Paige everything she needs to know. “You want me.” Paige toys with the hem of Azzi’s shorts, knuckles brushing against where she needs it most. “You want me so bad it’s killing you, hm?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Just say the word and we can go to yours.” Paige’s thumb moves to the inside of her thigh, tracing painstakingly slow circles. “Just admit that you want me.”

“Fuck you.” Azzi stands up, grabbing Paige’s hand and dragging her out of the kitchen. “We’re leaving!” she calls over her shoulder.

Paige smirks. Walking backward, she calls, “Ice, you might wanna sleep over here tonight.”

“I haven’t slept in my own bed in weeks,” Ice groans, face planting on the couch. “I’m counting down the days til Paige graduates.”

[amirasainz]

hooola!! absolutely love the baby alonso series and i’d love to see her playing with penelope maybe?? or one of lando’s nieces!!

hope u have a great day 🫶🫶

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

@piastappies

Best friends forever

The bustling paddock was alive with the hum of race car engines, chatter from teams, and fans eagerly seeking autographs. Amidst the energy of the Formula 1 weekend, two tiny figures stood out—Yn and Penelope.

Yn, with her sparkling pink bike that had streamers hanging off the handlebars, was busy adjusting her helmet. Penelope, on her equally dazzling sparkling purple bike, was already riding in circles, her giggles carrying through the air.

"Come on, Yn!" Penelope called, a teasing grin on her face. "You're so slow!"

Yn puffed up her cheeks in mock frustration, tightening the strap on her helmet. "I'm not slow! I just wanna make sure my helmet is perfect! Safety first, P!"

Penelope stopped her bike and crossed her arms dramatically. "We’re in the paddock, silly. No cars are gonna hit us!"

Yn finally climbed onto her bike, wobbling for a moment before finding her balance. "Fine! But you're not gonna win the race!" she said with determination, pedaling furiously to catch up.

The two girls zipped past team garages, their bikes glittering under the sun, leaving a trail of laughter behind them. Engineers paused to watch, some waving and smiling, others snapping quick photos of the adorable sight.

"Careful, girls!" Charles called out, leaning against a garage wall with a cup of coffee.

"We’re being careful!" Penelope yelled back, her voice high-pitched and confident.

"Yeah!" Yn chimed in. "We’re super fast, like Max and Fernando!"

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, just don’t beat them in qualifying, okay?"

The girls burst into laughter, though neither truly understood what qualifying was.

---

Later, Yn and Penelope decided to ditch their bikes and explore on foot. Hand-in-hand, they skipped down the paddock, their little sneakers slapping against the ground in perfect rhythm.

"We should go see the snacks table!" Penelope suggested, her eyes sparkling.

"Snacks!" Yn cheered. "I hope they have gummy bears. And cookies!"

As they approached the Red Bull hospitality, Max was leaning on a railing, chatting with Sergio. He spotted the duo and immediately straightened up, his tough demeanor softening into a wide grin.

"Hey, what are you two up to now?" Max asked, crouching down to their level.

"Snacks!" Penelope declared with a triumphant fist in the air.

Yn nodded eagerly. "Gummy bears!"

Max laughed. "Ah, I see. Well, the snacks are this way, but no eating too much, okay? I need Penelope to cheer for me later, not fall asleep!"

"I’m gonna cheer for Yn’s dad too!" Penelope said proudly, looking at Yn.

"Me too!" Yn added, squeezing Penelope’s hand.

Max ruffled Penelope's hair, a rare, tender smile on his face. "Good girls. Now go on, and don’t cause too much trouble."

---

The next stop on their grand paddock adventure was Fernando’s garage. The two girls peeked in cautiously before scampering inside. Fernando was sitting on a stool, studying data on a screen, but the moment he saw the two tiny intruders, his face lit up.

"Ah, mis pequeñas amigas!" Fernando exclaimed, opening his arms wide.

Yn ran straight to him, throwing her arms around his leg. "Papa! We’re having the best day ever!"

Fernando chuckled, scooping Yn up onto his lap. "I can see that. And Penelope, are you taking good care of my little one?"

Penelope nodded solemnly. "Of course. We’re best friends!"

"Bestest friends!" Yn echoed, reaching out to hold Penelope’s hand again.

Fernando looked at them with soft eyes. "You know, seeing you two like this reminds me of why we do all this. It’s not just about winning—it’s about family and having fun."

"Does that mean you’ll let us ride your car next time?" Penelope asked, her face completely serious.

Fernando laughed heartily. "Not quite, pequeña, but maybe one day."

---

As the day wore on, Yn and Penelope found new ways to entertain themselves. They drew with chalk on the pavement, leaving colorful hearts and stars for everyone to see. They played hide-and-seek around the motorhomes, with Lando and George willingly pretending not to see their bright clothes sticking out from behind crates.

At one point, the two girls sat on a patch of grass, sharing a juice box they had "borrowed" from the hospitality.

"Do you think we’ll ever drive like our dads?" Yn asked, her face thoughtful.

Penelope tilted her head. "I think so. But only if the cars are purple and pink."

Yn nodded solemnly. "Definitely."

---

By the time the sun began to set, the paddock had grown quieter, but the two girls were still full of energy. They convinced Max and Fernando to sit down with them for one last activity: a tea party.

Fernando looked hilariously out of place, holding a tiny plastic teacup between his large fingers, while Max did his best to balance a tiara Penelope had insisted he wear.

"More tea, sir?" Yn asked in an exaggerated posh accent, holding out an empty teapot.

"Why, thank you, madam," Fernando replied, playing along with a dramatic bow of his head.

Max sighed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. "This tea is excellent, Penelope. Did you make it yourself?"

Penelope giggled. "It’s pretend, Papa!"

"Ah, of course," Max said, nodding seriously.

---

As the day came to an end, Yn and Penelope finally started to tire, their eyes drooping as they sat on a bench together, wrapped in a shared blanket.

Fernando and Max watched from a distance, their competitive natures completely set aside as they admired their daughters.

"They really are something, aren’t they?" Fernando said quietly.

Max nodded, a rare softness in his gaze. "Yeah. Makes you realize what really matters."

The two girls held hands even in their sleep, their innocent friendship a bright light in the often chaotic world of Formula 1.

[realcube]

warnings: smut, f!reader, degradation, impact play, roughhousing, slutshaming, begging, daddy kink, overstimulation & anal plugs

as soon as you arrive home after a date night, he storms up to the bedroom, furiously dragging you along by the wrist, then throws you onto the bed as though you were weightless.

"why are you such fuckin' slut?" he sneers, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed, "can't even have a nice dinner without you begging for it. can't you keep it in your panties for one night?"

his face is painted with disgust as he glares down at your sprawled-out figure, feebly clutching at the sheets. tears quickly gloss over your lashline, threatening to spill in response to his vulgar tone, but he simply scoffs at the pathetic sight.

"aren't you going t' answer me?" he spits. there is a beat of silence, in which you are able to open your mouth but just as you were about to croak a reply, he grabs your hips and flips you over on the bed, pushing down on the small of your back so your front is pressed against the mattress.

a small yelp escapes your parted lips as he does so, at which he snickers mockingly. "need to teach you some fucking manners." he aggressively hikes up the bottom of your dress to reveal your bare ass and already damp panties. a quick and firm spank is planted right on your ass cheek, before he allows his fingers to delve between your clothed folds.

"wet already. what a desperate pussy." he muses, expert fingers rubbing calculated circles over your clit and sensitive lips. then, in one swift motion, he tears your panties clean off, and the feeling of the cold air rush against your bare cunt was almost orgasmic.

when his fingers graze over your sopping hole, it serves as a reminder of the paradise he is missing, and he can't help but indulge himself for a moment, grabbing your hips and forcefully aligning himself with your entrance, grinding his clothed cock — erect but concealed in his trousers — against your drenched pussy. naturally you whine in response to the stimulation that you've been yearning for all night, and he rasps, "yeah, you like that? want more, baby? you want daddy's cock?"

there was a hint of scorn in his tone, exemplified by the swift slap on the ass you received, as he hastily jerked his hips away from your hole, depriving you of any pleasure. when you longingly mewl out his name in reaction, he rolls his eyes and paces away from you, walking around the side of the bed, "tsk. you aren't getting any dick tonight." he says with a shrug, purposefully avoiding eye-contact, as he knows full well the effect you have on him, "i've not got time for you. needy bitch."

"but i can't finish on my own.." you continue to whine in protest, reaching out and tugging gently on his shirt as a plea for his attention. "and i promise i'll be good for you."

he lets out an exasperated sigh and yanks open the top middle drawer of your bedside table, rummaging around in there for a couple seconds before marching back over to the foot of the bed. "fine, just stop your complaining." he grumbles, pushing down on your back to secure you in place on the bed, so he can shove a little pink toy into your pussy from behind. you gasp in reaction, then begin to moan as you feel the toy vibrating within your snug walls.

he huffed out a pleased sigh from his nose, "that shut you right up." meanwhile, he stood and admired the sight from behind, your hungry pussy greedily sucking up the body of the toy, leaving only the thin tail hanging out. although he didn't want to look for too long, as his erection was already throbbing in his trousers. the only thing he wanted more than to fuck you raw on the bed until you were creaming in his cock for the nth time, was to teach you a lesson about patience. and what kinda tutor would he be if he were to succumb to his own lustful desires so easily.

you were thoroughly enjoying the vibrator he had fit into your hole; happily squirming around on the bed, humming in pleasure — it was like stratching an itch that had been bothering you all day. while you bathed in the bliss, he worked on tying your ankles together and your arms to the bedposts, which went mostly unnoticed by you as you were evidently preoccupied.

truthfully, you only realised that he had fastened you to the bed once he comments, "stay like this for the night. let's see if you are still so fucking horny in the morning."

there is a brief pause, during which your blood rushed to your head, then he continues, "i don't think this enough for my slutty girl, actually." he comment, and before you can even fully process what he had said, you feel a cold metal plug slip into your asshole, conjesting your already aching insides even further, and contributing to the fiery knot ready to burst in your stomach.

"there we go.." he states plainly. after that, all you hear is the creaking of the door and the subtle sound of his footsteps as he walks away, "see you in the morning, princess." and the door clicks shut behind him.

kuroo, tsukishima, ATSUMU, hawks, dabi, bakugo, sukuna, GOJO, geto, BAJI, mikey, KUNIKIDA, chuuya

[floralmelancolie]

Hear me out: Douma getting topped by someone noticeably shorter than him

what a delicious thought, anon <3 as someone who is personally 5’2”, i would love to piledrive douma until he’s crying like a whore.

also, lots of douma requests lately from you all! i don’t mind at all! he’s a total cutie. keep them coming~

it’s not that you were short by any means— douma was simply freakishly tall.

his bitten up chest bounces with every thrust deeper into his slutty hole, beautiful watercolor eyes filling with tears, pitiful and downright sinful noises leaving his mouth.

“you thought it was so funny to use my head as an arm rest today, hm?” you ask, enunciating each word with a deeper thrust into douma. his eyes are glazed over, mouth hanging agape as his stomach churns with desire and want. a harsh smack brings his attention back to you, and he nods his head quickly.

“answer, douma.”

“m-mhm! ohhh… soooo deep!”

you press your hand down onto his stomach, other hand coming to push his legs up further on your shoulders. his wet hole sloppily sucks you in deeper, and douma sniffles at the rough treatment. his leaking cock bounces against his stomach, precome sticking to it as the red tip bobs uselessly.

“baby can’t use his words? what happened to much larger than me?”

somewhere in that pretty little fucked out head of his, douma knows he could easily overpower you and take charge. but the feeling of being treated so roughly by someone so much physically weaker than him makes arousal pool in his stomach, head all foggy and dumb for you.

you smack a hand over his bruised nipple, his hips jerking at the sudden overwhelming sensation as his hands come up to grasp your shoulders, sharp digging deep lines into your back. his whorish moans fill your ears, and with every pound onto his sensitive prostate he jumps and whines.

“mmh, n-noo… you’re too big! can feel it in my— ngh, tummy!”

the noises of him taking you deeper are wet and messy, sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead as he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. the feeling of his tight little hole clenching around your cock pulls you closer to the edge, white burning at the corners of your vision.

“my cock’s so big, huh? you like this, douma? being pinned down like a whore and overpowered?”

douma nods hastily, throat bobbing as he swallows down the saliva that pools at the back of his mouth. he grinds down, moaning pathetically about his oncoming orgasm as precome slides down in glistening globs from his burning red cock tip. you crack your hand against his ass, and he squeals and sobs as you grasp the base of his cock.

“say it. tell me what you are, and i’ll let you come.”

“n-no! i’ll be good! mmm, lemme cum!”

you squeeze tighter, pressing your thumb deep into his wet slit. he cries out as he brims on the edge of an orgasm.

“words, douma.”

“i’m a d-dumb little, ngh, whore who likes to be put in his place!”

“good boy,” you say, burying deep into his warm hole and stroking his cock furiously. douma screams, nails drawing blood on your back as cum bursts from his cock, spraying up along his chest and hitting his chin.

his moans quiet down, chest quickly rising and falling as his dick twitches as the remainder of his cum leaks from his cock. douma smiles up at you, cheekily.

you can feel your eyelid twitch.

“ngahh! just came, don’t start again! nooo, master, please—“

douma could stop you if he wanted to. he knew exactly what to do, and how to end this. he could pin you down easily and turn the tables. but he’s too big of a slut for punishment to do anything about it.

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 ✎ ⋆˙⟡

miya atsumu x f!reader

your menstrual period just so happens to arrive the week of your first big writing deadline. meanwhile, atsumu discovers new sides to you.

part two of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

Atsumu had never lived with a girl before. It was disorienting — the amount of stationary you used, the amount of candles you lit when you cooked. The entire bathroom smelled like your shea butter body wash after you showered, and the countertops were littered with a million different skincare products he didn't even know the purpose of.

He also had to be cleaner around you, too, which took almost every fiber of his being. He was used to throwing his socks on the floor and leaving his dirty dishes in the sink. But now, he couldn't help but pick up after himself around you. The apartment was just too damn nice. He even found himself using the chore calendar you'd created on the whiteboard by the kitchenette, moving his assigned magnets ��� foxes for him, bunnies for you — beneath each chore he'd completed.

What on earth had he become?

Osamu had joked that the real Atsumu had died and been replaced by a cleaner, more considerate version of himself. That you — with all of your house plants and bath salts and kitchen towelettes — had domesticated him more than his future wife ever would. He wasn't prepared for the 180° turn, moving from the fraternity house to your cozy north campus apartment.

But nothing, nothing, had prepared him for the first time he saw you on your period.

"Is...she okay?" Osamu asked his twin brother, peering out of the kitchenette where they had been hiding for the past twenty minutes.

Past the threshold, you sat at your dining room table, surrounded by papers. Your unwashed hair was tossed into a lopsided knot on the side of your head, and the drawstrings of your hoodie were frayed from the amount of times you'd chewed on them. You were furiously scribbling out sentences of your latest short story, occasionally crumpling up a page in a fit of rage, and you were murmuring. Atsumu couldn't tell if you were reading to yourself or performing an exorcism.

"Y/N's short story for her creative writin' workshop is due this week, and she's been stressed out of her mind about it," he mumbled under his breath. "Not to mention she's been crankier than usual."

"Maybe she's havin' second thoughts about lettin' ya through her front door," Osamu mused.

"Ya know she chewed me out for not double-knottin' the trash bag this mornin'?"

Osamu shot him a disgusted look. "You should doubt-knot yer trash bag, ya pig. That's plain ol' common sense."

"Yeah, but she din' have to be so mean about it — "

"I can hear you, you know!" you shouted from the other room. Atsumu flinched from the sheer ferocity in your voice; Osamu, on the other hand, simply rolled his eyes.

"I restocked yer fridge with all the leftover veggies from the restaurant!" Osamu called out to you in consolation. "They're pre-diced and everythin'. Just throw 'em in the pan."

A second passed. Two.

Then, in some semblance of your usual, cheery voice, you said, "Thanks, Osamu! You're the best."

"Excuse me?" Atsumu choked, looking personally offended. "I get shot at for not takin' the trash out right, and suddenly yer the best?"

Osamu waggled his eyebrows before swiping his car keys off the kitchen counter and making his way towards the front door. "What can I say? I'm not the one she puts up with every day. I just deliver her groceries."

Atsumu glowered as the younger, more likable version of himself tipped his Onigiri Miya hat towards you and clicked the door shut, his self-satisfied smirk still lingering in the air long after he’d left.

Since Atsumu had moved in, his twin brother had taken it upon himself to ensure your fridge was never empty. He was always calling to ask if either of you needed anything from the grocery store, and he regularly dropped by after his shifts with containers full of sushi rice and diced vegetables. You found it sweet how Osamu made time to drive halfway across town to care for his brother while running a restaurant full-time. But Atsumu knew that, deep down, his brother was doing it partly out of pity. These past couple of months had done a number on the young volleyball player, and he was too emotionally spent to deny Osamu's help. Trudging towards the dining room, Atsumu was amused to find you completely zoned out in your chair, staring into the ether with a landfill's worth of crumpled paper at your feet.

He closed the distance between you and gently rapped a knuckle against your skull. "Anyone home?"

"I'm fucked. This story is fucked."

"Come on. It can't be that bad."

"Oh, it's bad," you said under your breath. "I've rewritten the same scene three times, and I've wasted half of my legal pad. I'm single-handedly contributing to deforestation."

"Well, ya ain't The Lorax, so I wouldn't worry about it too much," Atsumu grunted, bending down to collect your trash. "Why don't ya just take the rest of the night off? Take a walk, clear ya head?"

"I can't," you argued, standing from your chair for a quick stretch. Almost immediately, you doubled over from the pain twisting and knotting in your lower abdomen. "This story is due in two days, and I don't have that much time outside of class to work on it. Plus, I'm kinda..."

Atsumu blinked at you expectantly. "Kinda what?"

You gestured to the lower half of your body. "...menstruating at the moment."

Oh. Oh.

"I see," he mused, shucking your discarded paper into the recycling bin. "The Red Sea."

"Don't call my menstrual period The Red Sea," you threatened, although your voice carried less vitriol than before. You scrubbed your face with your hands and sighed. "Anyways, I'm cranky, I'm tired, I can't write my way out of this scene, and all I can think about is eating a twelve-ounce steak and a basket of fries." "Well, what if I helped ya out? Lemme see what yer working on."

Atsumu plucked your stack of papers off the dining room table and held his nose up to the page. "His lips traced the outline of her collarbone with calculated precision — "

You snatched it out of his hands. "Don't read it out loud like that!"

"What? I'm tryin' to help ya!" Atsumu argued, though a coy smile danced across his lips. "I'm not judgin' ya for writin' smut."

"It's not just smut. It's romance."

"It's smut."

"It has character development."

"Why are ya so worked up about me readin' it, anyway? Yer classmates get to, don't they? Ain't that the whole point of a writin’ workshop?"

"Yeah, but that's different. They're...English majors."

"Oh, so I'm just some dim-witted business major who can't have a critical eye?"

You perched your hands on your hips. "That's not what I meant."

"Then lemme read it," he said, holding his hand out. When you bristled away from him, he glared at you pointedly. "Look, I already know yer into horny reality TV, so you might as well jus' hand it ‘ere." You rolled your eyes. Ever since you and Atsumu had made Bachelor Mondays a weekly tradition, you'd shown him a few episodes of other reality dating competitions, Too Hot To Handle and Love Island in particular. You were happy to show him the side of you that indulged in steamy, on-screen romances, but romances you'd actually written? That was a whole other level of vulnerability. Still, his brown eyes never wavered in resolution, and after several seconds of watching you squirm, Atsumu eventually won. You slapped the handwritten pages into his calloused hand and said, "If you dare make fun of me for this, I will kill you."

"Will ya relax? I promise to take yer smut seriously," Atsumu said, pulling out a chair. "Now shuddup for a second while I read."

You busied yourself by making a cup of herbal tea for the next twenty minutes, occasionally peering over Atsumu's shoulder to check his progress, gauge his reactions. He wasn't kidding when he said he'd take your writing seriously — his eyes never left the page until he absorbed every last word, and even when he did, he went back to reread a passage or two.

"Damn, Y/N," he said after a while. "Yer writin' is good. A lil' freaky, but good."

"...thank you?" you replied, sliding into the seat next to him. "What about the characters, though? Were they believable?"

"Oh, yeah. Great chemistry, too," he said with a nod. "I wonder, though, if they should bone after she finds out he's leaving the country."

"Really?" you asked, a little surprised. "But the plot twist makes for such a heart-wrenching last line."

"It does, but think about it. Yer love interest makes himself out to be this earnest, down-to-earth fella, yet he sleeps with a girl he just met without tellin' her his plans to move abroad. It just doesn't really sound like somethin' he'd do."

"Huh. I guess I'd never thought about it that way."

"Plus, it'd be even more heart-wrenchin' if she stayed the night knowing he was leavin’."

"Oh, that's a good point." You reached for your pen to jot down some notes. "That way, she decides to break her own heart instead of feeling completely mislead."

"Exactly."

You felt the gears begin to turn in your brain, Atsumu's words unlocking a whole new realm of possibilities for the scene you'd been mulling over for the past several hours. It was as if he'd turned a light switch back on in your brain, reorienting you completely.

Now it was your turn to look impressed.

"Damn, Atsumu," you said, looking at the pages in your hands with a newfound sense of clarity. “That was...really helpful, actually. Thank you."

He stared at you flatly. "Ya don't need to act so surprised, ya know."

"I just didn't expect you to be such an expert on romance, is all."

"Are ya kiddin' me?" he scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "I'll have ya know I was a huge heartthrob back in the day."

"Back in the day?" you snorted. "What were you, twelve?"

"I meant in my first couple years of college. Before..." he trailed off, the confidence on his face faltering for a split-second. You looked at him expectantly.

"...before what?"

He picked at a loose thread on the seam of his sweatpants.

"Before my first real heartbreak," he finally said, shrugging it off as if it was no big deal. "Happens to everyone at some point.”

Your gaze immediately softened, the picture of Atsumu's life before you becoming a little sharper in your mind. It wasn't clear enough for you to fully understand his reasons for moving in with you senior year, but it was enough for you to reach out and give the sleeve of his sweatshirt a gentle tug.

"Well, if its any consolation, you'd kill it in my creative writing workshop."

Atsumu smiled, though it didn't completely reach his eyes. "Nah. I ain't as colorful with my words as ya are. I never knew there were so many poetic ways to describe gettin' railed."

With that, you picked up your stack of papers and smacked him in the arm. He laughed this time around, his posture calm, more relaxed.

"Thank you for your help," you told him in earnest.

"Anytime," he said, pushing his chair back. "Now put yer shoes on. We're headin' out."

"Where are we going?" you asked, following your roommate into the living room as he retrieved his wallet and car keys from the coffee table.

"Ya said ya wanted a twelve-ounce steak and a basket or fries, right?"

You blinked. "Well, yeah, but — "

"Then let's go. There's this 24-hour joint my teammates and I always go to after games. That alright with ya?"

As if on cue, your stomach squelched in hunger.

He nodded. "I'll take that as a yes.”

Living with a girl may have been new territory for Miya Atsumu — but if he prided himself on anything, it was being a fast learner. And judging by the confused, if not mildly touched look on your face as he ushered you out the door, he was catching on quickly.

a/n: thank you for all the love on the previous chapter! i always had a soft spot for atsumu, so I wanted to explore what he would be like in his healing/coming-of-age era. this exploration does require a bit of emotional duress (forgive me), but also lots of tenderness and love! i'm excited to continue writing. ( ╥ ᴗ ╥)

all my best, @miyasmagnolias 2025