#so I think I’m gonna wear the mask when we all get home

[asexualjedi]

Hiding upstairs with the dog while everyone eats after leaving them with a air purifier going full blast I’ve done what I can 🫡

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

skipping class for the first time in my life bc my professor has covid and he sent out an email saying we’re having class and he’s asymptomatic and will wear a mask per cdc guidelines even tho he’s past the 5 day required isolation period. like. great whatevs but have you actually tested negative

update: the answer was no he had not

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 

“So where am I staying?” 

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Mike.” 

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 

Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 

Which is likely, now that you think about it. 

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 

“Of what?” 

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 

“Thank god you’re awake.” 

“M—Mike?” 

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 

“I. . . I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean you didn’t?” 

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 

“Only you.” 

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 

Your last night here. Finally. 

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 

The phone rings. 

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 

“Was it him you were thinking about?” 

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 

“It shouldn’t.” 

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” 

“That you’re an Afton.” 

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 

And there he is. 

The man with the mask. 

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 

“I had nothing to do with it.” 

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 

“M—Mike—” 

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 

“Kiss me—please—” 

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 

He smiles. 

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 

“Mike. . .” 

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”

[dumbseee]

rumours, part two.

part one.

jude bellingham x influencer!reader.

fc: nailea devora.

_

groupchat: it girls 💕

larray:

ain’t no way you’re dating jude fucking bellingham and haven’t told us

y/n:

larry istg i’ll cut your hair in your sleep if you keep believing those DUMB rumours

oliviarodrigo:

girl

he’s hot asf why don’t you shoot your shot?

y/n:

with a footballer?

hell fucking no

these guys don’t know what being faithful to one person means

and i’ve heard plenty of shit about this jude guy

larray:

yeah me too tbh

y/n:

i’m not getting involved with him, period.

larray:

okay but what about his teammates?

y/n:

larry.

larray:

DO IT FOR ME

_

liked by judebellingham, yourbestie, larray and 789 928 others.

y/n: girls night 🥂

_

fan1: JUDE LIKED???

fan2: is she lying to us?? bc why would he like her posts now?

fan3: I JUST CHECKED AND HE’S FOLLOWING HER NOW TOO

fan4: maybe she lied to protect their privacy?? that would make sense tbh

fan5: you look so good 😍

fan6: she’s such a baddie omg, jude i get it now

fan7: didn’t know who she was before the whole jude drama but omg i love her

fan8: LEAVE JUDE ALONE YOU FREAK

fan9: petition for jude’s groupies to leave y/n alone

fan10: MOTHER

fan11: y/n please do another grwm i’m obsessed with your videos

fan12: how to be like her, she’s hot asf and has THEE jude bellingham at her feet

view all comments.

_

insta dms:

y/n:

wtf is wrong with you?

i told you to tell your fangirls to leave me alone and what are you doing? you LIKE my posts and you follow me now?

leave me alone, jude.

judebellingham:

you looked good

you always look good*

are you free, tomorrow night?

y/n:

can’t you READ?

LEAVE. ME. ALONEEEEE.

or i’m pressing charges on you hoe.

judebellingham:

so it’s a yes?

i’ll send you the tickets and my jersey, someone will come pick you up, what’s your address?

y/n:

wtf

what do you mean?

judebellingham:

we’re playing against sevilla and i want you to come

y/n:

we don’t even know each other tf??

is that how you get all those girls to get obsessed with you?

that ain’t gonna work with me, boy.

judebellingham:

hm, i like you already.

y/n:

well, i hate you.

judebellingham:

haha

turns me on, love it.

y/n:

i am BLOCKING you

_

i hate him. i fucking hate him. who does he think he is? making me come see him to his stupid game, what am i, his mother? seriously i could’ve stayed at home, binge-watching the twilight movies like i do every year. now i have to go to his fucking football game, it’s going to be so nosy, damn it. and before you ask me, YES i am getting ready and i am wearing his jersey. not because i want to, but i know that i won’t hear the end of it if i don’t do it. yeah, i’m doing it because he’s forcing me, no other reason.

like jude said, someone did pick me up to take me to the bernabeu stadium, and i can’t believe i’m doing this. the venue is full of fans wearing either their real madrid jerseys or their sevilla jerseys. i can see men, women, kids, elderly people, they’re all here to have fun and support their favourite team and i have to admit that it’s a cute sight. let’s just hope that they don’t kill each other’s at the end of the match. i’m quickly escorted to the vip section, where friends, family and important people would seat for the game.

"oh my god, is that y/n?" a voice called from behind, i closed my eyes shut, fuck, and walked faster, i should’ve wore a mask to hide my face. if anyone picture me in this stadium with that motherfucker’s jersey on, it would end my career and i’m half exaggerating.

thank god, the vip section was secluded from the other people. the game started and i had to admit that it was fun to watch when you weren’t really supporting anyone. no stress, just having fun watching men run after a ball, just like dogs. jude was actually good, i never looked him up on the internet to watch his performances, i just knew he was the internet’s favourite whore and girls were thirsting over him. he was good looking, of course, no one could deny that, but more than anything he was annoying as fuck. i surprised myself, cheering for him when he scored a goal, what was wrong with me.

real madrid was actually leading the game with two goals against one. jude’s teammate passed the ball to him and he scored his third goal of the match. okay now, why did this motherfucker just point at the crowd, more specifically towards me? people turned around to see where he was pointing at, but thankfully they couldn’t see me. my heart definitely sank when he did that though, seriously what is wrong with this guy! it was a cute gesture, yes, but we weren’t dating and i promised myself to never date an athlete, tried it once and promised to never doing it again. jude was everything i hated in a man, he was reckless, cocky, full of himself and he knew he was hot. nothing worse than a guy who knows he’s handsome.

_

"how was i?" he asked, this big smile plastered on his face, i wish i could tear it off his face. "fine, i guess." jude made a weird face and put his hands on his hips. "fine? y/n, i was more than fine and you know it, scored three goals and they were all for you." he blew me a kiss and i swore i was about to knock him out. "yeah about that, someone could’ve seen me!" i said, slapping his arm, making him laugh. "darling, that’s what i wanted." okay, the way he was looking at me may or may have not made my heart skip a beat. "jude, i’m starting to believe that the fans gaslighted you into thinking we’re already dating." he laughed, making my cheeks heat up just a bit. "i just want to give the fans what they want to see." he shrugged and put his arm around my shoulders to start walking out of the changing room. i imediatly pushed his arm away and speed walked in front of him to hide my red cheeks. of course, the bitch was laughing at me, running to catch me and poking my cheeks to mock me. "aww, you’re blushing? i thought you hated me, darling." i put my hands on my cheek. "fuck you! it’s just hot in here!" "it’s literally minus two degrees, y/n."

_

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, oliviarodrigo and 890 918 others.

y/n: maybe football isn’t so bad 🙄

_

judebellingham: like the view? 👀

y/n: shut up.

fan1: SHE POSTED JUDE???

fan2: Y/N DID YOU LIE TO US???

y/n: WE’RE JUST FRIENDS GUYS OMG

judebellingham: for now* 🫢

y/n: jude istg…

fan3: OMGBSJSOSLSLMDMSLZ WTF

fan4: i am literally shitting bricks what the FUCK

fan5: i love the banter lmao they’re fun

fan6: i ship it tbh

fan7: y/n being a wag for 2024 omg

fan8: i love how she’s fighting it but we all know how it’s going to end

fan9: Y/N NOOOOOO NOT A FOOTBALLER

oliviarodrigo: well, well, well 👀

y/n: please not you too

larray: will you look at THAT

y/n: LARRY SHUT UP IM BEGGING

fan10: lmaoo even her friends are ratting her out

fan11: #savey/n

view all comments.

_

insta dms:

y/n:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

DID YOU REALLY DM POP BASE TO TALK ABOUT US???

judebellingham:

mmh, i don’t know what you’re talking about

y/n:

jude bellingham.

judebellingham:

okay maybe i did

BUT I DIDN’T KNOW THEY’D RAT ME OUT LIKE THAT

y/n:

FOR FUCK’S SAKE

judebellingham:

anyways it’s not a big deal tbh

are you free tonight?

y/n:

no.

judebellingham:

nice, i’ll come pick you up at 9 <3

y/n:

are you BLIND?

i said no bitch

judebellingham:

suddenly i can’t read.

_

liked by judebellingham, larray, sabrinacarpenter and 901 927 others.

y/n: get you a man who eats his spaghettis with his hands 😍

_

judebellingham: i wonder who is this gentleman 🫢

y/n: yeah i wonder too 🙄

fan1: pls not jude carrying y/n’s purse

fan2: they’re so cute stop

fan3: my favourite couple

fan4: PARENTS

fan5: lmao i bet jude is the one who begged her to be his gf

y/n: yes.

fan6: JAISOSPXLD’´S

view all comments.

[frudoo]

I'm actually crying a bit as I write this, I went out today and didn't realize that I chub rubbed a hole through the thighs of my jeans... On each fucking side... Realized it while I was in the middle of the store, could I get the 141 boys reactions to being out with their girl and this situation occurs? I'm so utterly mortified and humiliated right now and this is the only thing I could think to cheer me up. Thank you for reading this 💙

Aww sugar :( that's no fun. I hope you're feeling better, and that you treated yourself to a new pair!

Warnings: Slight mention of weight gain (in an affectionate way), fem!reader.

Kyle Garrick:

     You’re walking hand-in-hand with Kyle along the mall when you feel the slight sting on the insides of your thighs. When you stop walking, Kyle immediately turns around to see what’s going on, his heart already pounding when he sees the concern on your face. He backs you against the wall and blocks you from everyone else’s prying eyes so you can do whatever it is you’re doing more comfortably.

     “Wha’s wrong, dove? Did ya start?” He asks softly as you examine the rips in your jeans. 

     “No,” you sniffle, chest starting to heave with embarrassment. “No, I- my jeans are ripped.”

     “Aw, poor thing. Let’s go get ya a new pair, or four, hm?” Kyle grins, tilting your chin up. “No tears, my baby, s’normal. We’re already at the mall, anyway.”

     You nod and sniffle, smiling against his lips when he leans down to kiss you tenderly.

     “There’s my girl. C’mon, let me spoil ya.”

     John Price:

     Grocery day is already stressful enough, so when you feel the hems on the inside of your jeans burst and your skin getting raw, you break out in a fit of anxious, irritated sobs. John hears your voice and comes running over, narrowed eyes scanning your aisle and the areas around it for any reason you might be so upset. Finding nobody, he relaxes a bit, turning you to face him and massaging your shoulders gently.

     “What’s got you so down, darlin’?” He asks softly, voice dripping with concern.

     “My fucking jeans,” you hiss, lifting one leg onto the bottom of your shopping cart to expose the tears to him.

     “You’re all red. Are you in pain?” His brow creases as he examines your thighs, gently running his fingertips along your skin.

     When you wince, he nods, instantly withdrawing his hand.

     “1-10, how mean is your brain bein’?”

     “Eight,” your bottom lip wobbles, and he wraps one arm around your waist, maneuvering the cart back to the front of the store with his free hand. “John, we have to-”

     “Mm-mm. We’ll have the groceries delivered. Right now, I’m gonna get you home and in bed, and you’re gonna use my card to buy yourself some new jeans online. Understood?” 

     “Understood.”

     Simon Riley: 

     “M’bout to fuckin’ kick this shelf down,” Simon grumbles, glaring at the miscellaneous car parts that, evidently, are pissing him off. 

     “Don’t do that, please,” you giggle softly, trying not to alert him as to the pain you’re feeling.

     You should know better than to hide something from Simon. He grabs your hand to drag you to the next aisle, cocking an eyebrow when he sees just the slightest tweak in your walk.

     “Wha’s wrong?” He asks, looking you up and down as if he’s analyzing the state of your wellbeing. 

     “My jeans ripped and I’m chafing,” you whisper, looking around to make sure there was nobody around to hear about your situation. 

     “Thighs’re gettin’ thicker, eh?” His eyes crinkle and you can tell he’s smiling beneath the black medical mask he’s wearing. 

     “Gee, thanks, Si. Say it louder, why don’t you?” You huff, smacking his bicep hard—as if that’s gonna stop him.

     “I jus’ might,” Simon hooks his arm around you and grabs a handful of your plush hip, giving it a firm jiggle. “I happen t’like my girl soft and tasty.”

     “Okay, o- Simon! Enough!” You giggle as he starts tickling your sides, making you forget all about your pain and embarrassment. 

     “Now,” he hums, satisfied. “M’gonna get us home so I can get those delicious fuckin’ thighs wrapped ‘round m’head.”

     Johnny MacTavish:

     “Bon’? Ye’ve been in there a while,” Johnny’s soft knock sounds on the dressing room door, worry in his tone.

     “I’m fine!” You respond, clearing your throat and wiping away your tears, praying that he can’t hear the despair in your voice. 

     He does. The next thing you know he’s crawling beneath the gap in the door like a damn dog, spinning you around by your shoulders so he can examine your face.

     “Ah- for fuck’s sake, Johnny!” 

     “Och, quit yer whinin’ an’ tell me wha’s wrong,” he barks, one bushy eyebrow raised high.

     “My jeans are ripped and my thighs are chafed and it fucking hurts,” you blubber, angrily pointing at the holes in the fabric where your poor skin has been rubbed raw.

    “Is tha’ all?” Johnny grins cheekily. “Take ‘em off.”

     “Excuse me?” It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow.

     “Ye heard me. Take ‘em off.”

     Rolling your eyes, you comply, surprised when he does the same. He hands you his own pair and takes yours, and you watch with great amusement as he shimmies into your jeans. His are a little too big for you at the bottom and a little too small at the waist, but your shirt is long enough to cover the fact that you had to leave it unbuttoned. Half of Johnny’s calves are exposed in your jeans and the waist droops around him, but damn that beautiful man and his perfect, muscular thighs, they fit in perfectly. 

     “Damn, hen. We should trade more of’en, these make me arse look fantastic!”

So, all in all, the rest of your shopping trip went smoothly, despite all the workers staring at the odd pair of you—and hey, he was right. His ass does look fantastic, especially when it’s buying you new jeans.

[harveywritings92]

[PART 2 OF THIS]

[After R/n’s calamitous phone call attempt to Simon, she ran a good five blocks before she felt safe enough to breath and think of a plan.]

R/n, sitting on a curb: okay...okay, I really regret not going to the gym with Si now....Shit!

{She swallows hard and looks behind her, the people chasing her were probably a two blocks away that only gave her small window of time.}

R/n: Okay, R/n. You managed to get, ah... Some distance from the guys chasing you, that’s the first thing Simon you told to do...Now next would be to find a place to hide, too bad it’s too freaking sunny out to do so!

R/n: And I can’t hide in plain sight since they know what clothes I’m wearing...

{R/n looks around and recognizes what street she’s on, there was goodwill shop across the street from her, she quickly got up and ran inside; knowing the van was probably around the block.]

R/n: Okay...they’re finding me a bit fast for comfort...

(R/n thinks and looks at her purse/mini-backpack...Could there be a tracker in it? she didn’t dwell on it too long, R/n quickly grabbed some pants a large hoodie, a hat and neck gaiter. she quickly ditched her old clothes and bag; taking just her wallet with her. R/n practically threw the money at the confused clerk as she speed walked passed the checkout.]

Clerk: Wait! ma’am, your change!

R/n, not looking back: Keep it! 

(R/n pulls the hood and neck gaiter up and walks out the back. she exits the alley in time to see the van pull up and two men rush into the good will. the y/ht(your height), woman knew they were not gonna be happy when they find R/n was long gone, and with that R/n calmly walked away towards a more populated area and hopefully she can get ahold of a phone so she can get through to Ghost this time!)

(Meanwhile)

[Ghost and the rest of the 1-4-1 arrived to his house, which was completely trashed, Ghost looked around his livingroom frowning under his mask as he found his wedding photo on the floor. it wasn’t some grand fancy event,  just a small court house wedding with your parents/guardian and couple of your friends, Ghost stomach churned at the memory.

Despite him being the one who proposed in the first place, Simon had tried to talk R/n outta of it...He warned her, he warned her that if they went through with it; R/n would be a walking target, she wouldn’t have a normal life anymore and yet... She still said yes.)

Soap, as he looks at the photo over Ghost’s shoulder: Steamin’ Jesus, he wasn’t fookin wit’ me, he really is married!...(to Price.) Did ye know?

Price: I knew he had a wife. That’s about it, Ghost doesn’t really speak about his home life much.

[Then everyone looked around the house it was clear someone was looking for something...and judging how a good number of Ghost and R/n’s valuables were left out on the dining room table, they were probably coming back...or. 

*The stairs creaked* 

They never left...Everyone freezes as a young man in his late teens to early twenties dressed all in black comes walking down the stairs; talking loudly. He probably assumed the 1-4-1 were his buddies coming back for him and their loot.]

Robber, while holding R/n’s jewelry box: Jeez, you guys took yer sweet time how hard is it to catch a woma...*Sees the group of giant armed men staring at him.* ...aaan?

Ghost: Don’t you fucking move...

[the Robber throws the box at them and tries to bolt out the backdoor! He gets clotheslined by Gaz who was camping around the corner. Cut to the kid being tied to a chair as Ghost stands over him menacingly]

Ghost, cracking his knuckles: Now...Let’s get acquainted shall we?~

[milkywaydrabbles]

kinktober 25 with rindou!!! 🔛🔝 kanto manji uniform

A/N: Honestly Rindou in uniform brain go brr. I am a firm believer that 18/19 year old Rindou is an obnoxious show off, fluffing his feathers up whenever he can. Cocky little shit in this fic and I'm into it. I hope you like it!! Mwuah!!

Uniform x Haitani Rindou

Your head was pounding. The bright light of your computer making you miserable--you’ve been trying to study the same material for the last three hours, and you were growing tired of trying. You thought if you kept looking at the screen your head would combust. It was time to take a break. Stretching your arms over your head, you felt all the joints release a crack that had you groaning. Looking around you realized you were the only one left in the library of your university. At least in your general area. Looking down at your phone you realized not only was it well into the evening but you had three missed phonecalls from your boyfriend. ‘Shit’. You gathered your things as quickly as you could into your bag and slung it over your shoulder before giving him a call back. It only rung once. 

‘Jesus Christ would it kill you to pick up the phone?’ He sounded annoyed but you knew better than to think it wasn’t him just masking it to not show how worried he really was about you. ‘Thought I was gonna have to fuck some people up to find you’ You rolled your eyes, smiling as he spoke. Always so dramatic.

“Sorry, Rin, I was in the library and I lost track of time. I have that big test coming up you know? Just want to be prepared.” You sighed, thinking that when you got back to your dorm you should try studying some more, even if it’s another part of the curriculum. There was never enough time to digest all the information your shitty ass professors wanted you to learn but somehow you needed to figure it out. ‘You’re stressing yourself out too much, just relax babe.’  You snorted on the line, biting your tongue. As if the amount of times your gang affiliated boyfriend knocking on your student housing apartment covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his didn’t stress you out. “Yeah yeah, I’m heading home now though, stay on the phone with me?” ‘ Of course, baby.’

-

You’d gotten off the phone with Rindou a few minutes before getting to your door, saying he needed to finish a few loose ends before giving you a call again. So imagine your surprise when you walk into your one bedroom with none other than Rindou already inside. “Jesus!” You gasped, holding onto your chest like your heart was going to pop out. “You can’t just!....” your scolding trailed off, eyes scanning the new clothing on him. Rindou smirked, uncrossing his legs from your couch and leaning back, arms splayed behind the couch. “Whatcha lookin’ at, pretty girl?” You shook your head, trying to pull yourself out of a daze and dumping your bag at the door, along with your shoes. “What are you wearing, Rin? I’ve never seen that.” You mumbled, making your way over to him and sitting with your legs up to your chest next to him on the sofa. 

“We got new uniforms. You like ���em?” 

Like was the understatement of the century. You loved it. It looked so clean, white made him look real cleaned up. Plus, even if you hated it (not really, you lair) seeing bright blood splatters on the crisp linen would be bad ass (as long as it’s not his!) But you had to play it cool, so you nodded, casually picking at your nails. He knew you better than that. Rindou patted his thigh with a grin, “come here, pretty. You’re too far.” he couldn’t help but coo when he saw how you scrambled from your corner onto his lap, hands running across his shoulders and thumbing the lapels. “It’s nice, Rinnie..” you whispered, feeling the embroidery on the sides of the sleeves. Your head was in turmoil: the new uniform was definitely doing it for you, trying your best to contain your horny little brain. “You look...good, in white.”  He let you keep tracing the fabric, seeing your pupils dilate and your mouth part. It was kind of hot, seeing how horny you were getting just by seeing him in uniform. Maybe he’d have to stop by after meetings more often. 

“What are you thinking, baby?” Rindou grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him with flushed cheeks. “Nothing!” Your voice cracked, clearing your throat before trying again. “Nothing.” He hummed, peering over his glasses. “You wanna fuck?” “Rin!” He couldn’t help but laugh, at how sweet you were for him, really. How he landed you and had you stick around he’ll never know. “Come on baby, lemme fuck the stress outta you. Missed you today.” He mumbled against your skin, kissing your jaw, trailing down your neck, pulling at your shirt to expose a shoulder and bite at the juncture that met your throat. You gasped, holding on tightly at the lapels of the jacket and bucking your hips onto him. “Missed you too, Rindou...” a hand made its way to his long locks, scratching at his scalp while he continued to give you attention. His hands made their way to your chest, grabbing and groping at your tits. “Strip for me, baby.” His voice held authority, your skin feeling like it was on fire. You nodded, getting up from his lap to practically rip your clothes off of you. “Does my pretty baby like my uniform?” He teased, cupping your ass when you stood between his legs. “Mhm” You nodded, moving to sit back on his lap but he stopped you with a hand. “Why don’t you suck me off, pretty girl?” felt much less like a question and more like a demand, one you couldn’t say no to. You knelt between his legs, shaky hands unbuckling his belt and zipping down the pants--pulling out his hardened cock from its confines. He spread his legs wide, making himself bigger. One hand smoothed down your hair while the other lay behind the couch. “Go ahead baby, show me how much you like my uniform.”

Your lips were on him in an instant. Pressing wet sloppy kisses on his head and shaft, tongueing his cock. He held his hand on your head, not moving you but keeping pressure. He lifted his hips slightly when you moved to take him in your mouth, pressing his cock into your cheek and seeing it bulge. “Fuck, baby, look so good taking my big dick.” your lashes fluttered at the praise, slurping his cock into your mouth. You were messy, drooling already with spit bubbling at the sides of your mouth. Rindou moaned above you, throwing his head back in pleasure when he saw just how nasty you were sucking him off. “Didn’t know this would do it for you” he laughed, taking your hair in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. “Wanna come see me fight like this? In my uniform? I’d win, and fuck you right after.” Your pussy clenched around nothing, pushing yourself to take more of him. You looked at him through teary lashes, nose touching his pubes as you gurgled around him. “Fuck! Just like that, slutty baby, keep going.” You whimpered around his cock, taking him just how he wanted it. You’d do whatever he asked when he was dressed like this, mind completely turning into mush. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, flicking your wrist and jerking him as you suckled on his tip, laving your tongue over the slit. Rindou hissed, pulling your hair to tip your head back, his own hand taking over for yours and jerking his cock. “Open your mouth, baby, gonna shoot my load over your face.” He panted, taking a mental picture of you sitting so pretty with your hazy eyes unfocused and tongue lolling out, waiting patiently for his cum. He moaned, bucking his hips as he shot sticky ropes of cum on your tongue and face, dripping from your forehead to your cheeks, smearing what was left on his tip on your tongue, giving it a few smacks before leaning back and letting go of your hair.

“Fuck babythat was so hot.” He exhaled deep, hoisting you up from your knees back onto the couch. His fingers rubbed at your pussy, that had been dripping onto your floor. He grinned wicked, pressing his already hardening cock between your pussy lips.

“Now I’m gonna fuck you with it on, okay baby?”

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part seven —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: some chill stuff before more angst ya know

The next morning, it is your turn to slip a treat into Blue’s hand.

You can tell by her expression that the Twix bar is like gold to her. Her teeth sink in. She stifles a moan. She hisses a swear you haven’t heard yet— Fucking noodles.

It reminds you of the time Paul found a Cadbury egg for Joseph. You smile as you watch, the kind where your teeth manage to poke through and your cheeks have to do some stretching. Ghost is chopping wood somewhere on the other side of camp, but still, you decided to close the shed’s door. 

Last night, you were too worn to stay in the cabin for long. You left just after Ghost shucked on some large helmet with two strange eyepieces attached to it. To see in the dark, Blue explained in a whisper. Of course he would have that. When you asked him where he was going, he’d mumbled under his breath, Gonna make sure you didn’t have any bloody followers. You hadn’t even thought of that. He must not have thought of it until you actually showed up, either. He expected you not to make it.

You don’t know how long he was out there, but by the fact that you’d woken up to his axe chopping wood instead of heads, you figured the territory was clear.

“Better than Nutella?” you ask Blue.

Grey light streaks through the shed and over her face. The smell of potential rain looms in the air.

“That’s a tough question,” she says, licking the residue from her lips. She’s eaten half. She folds the wrapper over to cover the rest and hands it to you. Sweets like these are rare. You told her you’d keep it in your bag until she wanted the rest.

“I think it’s a strong tie,” she decides and then groans, moving her chin to the dip of her folded knees. “I wish chocolate could be hunted.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want the rest?” She sounds guilty. “It is your Twix.”

“No, really. It’s a thank you.” Your knee gives a nudge to hers. “As if you haven’t given me food that is yours before.”

The guilt turns into a smile.

“You know,” she then says, eyes flicking to your pillowcase bag of looted goods. “When I was looking at your clothes last night, I got an idea of how you could fix them. Can I—” she tilts her head, “Can I show you something?”

She leaves Grim with you as she departs to collect whatever it is she has to share. It turns out to be a magazine of all things. She clutches it to her chest, rolling her lips together before turning it around to show you. The bright ink is faded a little. The corners bent and worn. The date of the issue reads March 2018. There is a woman on the front - some model you can’t remember the name of - clad in a tight blue dress.

The sight is just as weird as the abandoned streets and homes. For a moment, you look down at the skin of your hands, abraded from your bowstring, and press your lips.

“Remember how I told you Ghost and I went to a military base once?” Looking back up, you nod. “Well, we were mainly there to get ammo but we also went through the barracks— that’s where they slept.”

She explains it as if you have no clue, which you don’t. Never in your life did you care about the military, except for that first day when you hoped they might come to find you in some big tanks or something. They didn't.

Blue giggles. “I found this in one of the men’s old dorms.”

When she sees your expression, she says, “It’s okay. I’m not stupid. Ghost told me his old teammates liked to look at pictures of pretty women sometimes when they got bored. Anyway, I’ve looked through it so many times. I like all the fancy clothes people used to wear.”

She begins to flip through the pages and points out a few things. Where before you sometimes zoned out, your mind distracted by survival, this time you listen fully. One page has an ad with lush grass in the background and she informs you that the shade of green is her favorite color.

“Not blue?”

“That is my name, not my favorite color." Her nose scrunches. "What is yours?”

Do you even have one? You think for a moment. What comes to mind are the flowers your mother used to grow at the house in Norbury.

“Violet,” you softly say. “Like the flowers.”

“Huh?”

“They are like… a bluish purple.”

“Oh! There are some flowers like that by the pond sometimes. Hopefully, they come back this year."

Another page she points to has people laying on a white beach with crystal-like water. Blue says she hopes to go there someday. Not to just any beach. That beach.

When she passes an ad with a young man’s face on it - someone about your own age - she pauses for a moment and looks up.

"Do you think he is cute?" she asks. A tender curiosity.

"Um," you can't remember the last time you saw a man's face besides Paul. Ghost is always covered. She holds the page up so you can see it better. A sharp jaw. Dark hair and a strong nose.

"Yeah, he is very cute. Do you think so?"

She nods and bites her lip. "Did you… have a husband before shit happened?"

"What?" You frown. "I'm not that old."

"A boyfriend, then?"

"I had," you search the memories. They feel unimportant. Buried. "I had a few people who I enjoyed spending time with in uni."

"Like sex?"

You almost choke. "What?"

"I am not stupid," she says again. "The rabbits. They do it all the time. Ghost told me that's how they have their babies, and that is how him and my mum had me."

Oh. This is the first time Blue has ever mentioned her mother and you don't know why, but it makes your stomach tight. But she doesn't add anything else about her, as if she'd just told you the sky is blue or Grim is her friend. Something so casual. Brushed aside. As if, she hadn't mentioned it at all.

You don't pry about it.

Not to a kid. Trauma, grief— you can only imagine what a young brain has decided to do with them. But for a moment, your brain tries to imagine what kind of woman it could have been, what kind of woman Ghost enjoyed spending his time with. The only thing you can picture is Blue's eyes. She clearly didn't get them from him.

Blue moves on from the picture of the man. The page she really meant to show you is of a woman wearing jeans with a belt around them. She points to it and explains you could try something like that for the jeans you found.

Right. Jeans. Along with the blouse you grabbed, you got an ugly pink sweater and some jeans that won’t fit you.

"That’s called a belt," you say. “I don’t have one.”

“I have an old shoelace,” Blue says. “How about that?”

“That could work.”

Blue tells you bluntly that you need to bathe first. You smell like those fucks, no offense. You take your new clothes and she finds you a rag. In the bathroom, you harshly scrub your skin to erase the smell of rot. You wash your hair which is slick with sweat.

On your wrist, you notice a light bruise growing where that Grey had grabbed you. Luckily, you were too tired last night for your brain to conjure up any nightmares, otherwise, you probably would've had one about it biting you. Even a bite to just your hand - to a finger - would be enough for the virus to enter the bloodstream. You don’t want to admit it, but with that revolver, Ghost saved your life again. 

After bathing, you slip on the blouse and a pair of too-big jeans. Blue gives you the shoelace. You feed it through the belt loops. It works well enough. The pantlegs fall past your ankles so you roll them. You tuck the large blouse so the excess fabric won’t get in the way while you hunt. The sweater… you don’t bother with it for now. It’s not warm enough. You will stick with Paul’s old coat when you go outside. 

You look in the mirror again.

You stroke your own cheek, looking yourself over. You smooth your hands over the clothes. Underneath, you feel the plush of your breasts. The muscles of your stomach. The curves of your ribs. You are almost back to your normal weight, but it is still evening out. Under your eyes, the skin remains grey. Floorboards and stress will do that to a person.

"Let me see," Blue says on the other side of the door before you open it. You can still hear Ghost chopping wood outside.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” She touches the sleeves. “These are pretty long. They will get in the way when you shoot arrows, right?”

You nod. “Can you bring me the scissors?”

After you cut the sleeves down to your wrists, Blue picks up the scraps of fabric. “Hey, you could tie your braids with these. Like ribbons.”

"I could," you shrug and give a smile. "But I think they would look nicer on you."

The shyness returns as she nods. Gently, you guide her in front of the mirror and begin working your fingers through her hair, just as you do most evenings.

You notice her staring in the mirror with studious eyes as if she is trying to understand exactly what she sees. You wonder if she ever compares herself to those girls in the magazine. An eleven-year-old you certainly used to.

"You look very pretty, Blue."

"It doesn't matter if I do," she shrugs. "It's not like anyone will ever actually get to see me."

"Well," you swallow, "I get to see you right now, and I think you are pretty."

"Thanks.” She accepts the compliment with a puckered expression, before it softens and she adds, "I think you are, too, Twix.”

Twix?

But before you can question it, you hear the front door shut and realize that the sound of chopping wood has been gone for at least a minute. It is clearly Ghost entering the cabin.

You drop your hands before you can finish the braids, stepping back. 

He calls out her name.

Recalling the rifle he pointed at you yesterday, you whisper to Blue, "Maybe you should go out before he—“

But of course, his heavy boots approach. The dark shadow of him materializes in the bathroom's doorway, consuming the space with his head dipped down to fit.

You turn around to face her father at the same time Blue does. His brows are drawn low and in one hand he carries the axe. You notice a sheen of sweat at the bridge of his nose where his mask begins.

The thing is, you try to avoid being spotted alone with Blue like this. She talks to you in your shed. You interact when he is busy with things.

Ghost reaches for Blue’s hand. He gently tugs her to him. He cups the back of her head and bends down to meet her level, though he is still much taller.

"Remember what we talked 'bout?”

What did they talk about?

"I remember," she mumbles. She tugs her arm away. "I was just helping her with her new clothes.” Smoothly, she changes the topic. “What do you think? The shoelace was my idea."

Blue. You almost groan, feeling his dark eyes slowly shift over to you. You think you would rather him press the axe to your throat than share his opinion about your clothes— they aren’t exactly like what the models in Blue’s magazine wore. His stare rarely does anything other than burn holes through your skin, so it is no surprise when you feel the heat through your blouse, up your neck, and all the way to your cheeks.

You look down at your feet.

Then, a bitter memory comes to mind.

You look like you're one 'em already.

That is what Ghost said once.

For a brief moment, you wonder if he still thinks it.

He doesn’t give an answer. All he does is clear his throat. Your strange curiosity fades as he stands and looks down at his daughter. 

"C'mon, kid. Start the fire with me."

"No, not yet. She needs to finish my hair, Ghost."

He allows it, but remains in the doorway, watching as you finish her braids, using the fabric as floral bows to tie them off. 

It looks nice.

It rains just like you thought it would.

Not too heavy, but enough to cut your hunt short for the day, earning you only one squirrel.

When you return to camp, you find Blue crouched over the wood planter as she covers the sodden soil with a layer of mulch. Apparently, Ghost had her plant some cabbage seeds before the rain. The mulch is to stop the seeds from washing away, she explains.

Spring will soon arrive. With it, some crops to add to their meals. Good for them. Maybe you can convince Ghost to lend you a seed or two to plant for yourself. 

After dinner, you sit by the fireplace with your boots off in order to warm your toes. The soft drum of rain against the cabin's walls lulls you into a trance as you listen to Ghost quietly read to Blue. Sometimes he points to words for her to try.

Tonight it is a book you recognize.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Your father read it to you once. A younger version of yourself told him it was too boring. But now you find yourself quite liking the story about a magic wardrobe where kids can escape to another world.

Blue falls asleep on the couch. Ghost carries her to bed like usual. It is your time to leave. The rain has died down some but you already know the water has probably leaked into your shed. Lovely. 

But again you are stopped by a hand around your arm. 

You turn to see Ghost. He clutches the map in the other hand.

“Um. What is it?”

You slip your arm away, his grip allowing it. Is he mad about you hanging out with Blue? Did he discover your secret exchanges? Is he going to finally kick you out since you didn't die like he probably hoped?

“Sit with me.”

You raise your eyebrows. He motions for you to follow him to the table so you sit down, hands in your lap, and pick at the skin of your knuckles. He spreads the map open. He also has a pencil in his hand. Between gloved fingers, he fiddles with it before sliding it over to you.

To your surprise, he demands, “Show me where you went.”

Although confused, you abide, making a small mark over the village. Ribchester. 

His eyes narrow. “Not jus’ that. Show me which way you went.”

“This way,” you say, annoyed by his tone. Faintly, you draw a line through the forest all the way to the highway. “Then I followed the road.”

He takes the pencil from you and slides the map back in front of him, sweeping his eyes over the marks you’ve made. Under the black fabric, you detect the contour of his lips pressed into a straight line.

“How many were there?”

“Not many, really,” you admit. “Do you… Are you wanting to go there?” 

You furrow your brows as you recall what Blue said. They don't make trips often. It is not like Ghost has much need to. 

“No.” Not looking at you, he draws a mark some kilometers south of the one you made. “I want to go here.”

“Why?”

“I need ammo.” 

His voice is clinical and gruff. You definitely prefer it over threatening. As he continues, it officially becomes the most words he has ever spoken to you. 

“Went to a base over here two years ago.” He points a gloved digit to a spot on the east side of the forest. That must be the trip that Blue was talking about. “Wasn’t much left. Took what I could.”

“You’re all out of ammo, then?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No. But I’m runnin’ low. I don’t want to wait until I am all out to go. Need some ammo to make it there, don’t I?”

“Why haven’t you gone sooner?” you pry slowly. “Why do you want to go now?”

“Got a bit more to lose than you do.” 

It is a harsh truth, inviting a sharp breath through your lungs. What he means is he has someone he loves, unlike you. Someone he can’t just leave behind on her own.

You realize that Ghost probably avoids leaving this haven he has set up for that very reason, and maybe it is also why he is particularly conservative about their supplies. Whenever they end up running low, he has to drag her along with him to get more. The threats out there can be hard to predict. You’d been lucky. 

Ghost continues.

“But if you could make it through here,” he gestures back to the marks you made. The route can act as a way to the military base, but he would still have to go further, maybe 10 kilometers past the village. “Then I can make it that way with her.”

You nod slowly as you begin to wonder why he is telling you this. But then, it sinks in, a pit settling in your stomach. If they leave, where are you supposed to go? 

Ghost must read the expression that takes over your face. You don't wear a mask.

“You’re comin’ with us.”

“What?” You stand up, shaking your head as you hiss through your teeth. “No. I don’t want to. I just fucking got back.”

“You’re not staying here on your own,” he growls quietly. “I’m not askin’ whether you want to go or not.”

You catch his eyes. Black glass reflects the dim glow of the fire.

Of course.

He doesn’t trust you enough to stay here.

You have no choice.

[fuck-customers]

reminiscing on last year’s Halloween when we had a million sorority morons begging us to help them find a last minute costume but they had ZERO knowledge on anything horror related so it was a fucking nightmare. This one girl really took the cake though.. this is how the convo with her went..

Me: You know what? Since you’re blonde I think Midsommar would suit you. We have the dress, and we still have loads of flower crowns.

👱🏻‍♀️: What is that?

Me: What?

👱🏻‍♀️: miss summer..what’s that?

Me: Oh it’s the scary movie about the Swedish cult with Florence Pugh

👱🏻‍♀️: Uh.. I don’t know.. do you have something else?

Me: Maybe you can do bride of Chucky but instead of wearing a dress you can do her corset outfit with the feather boa.

👱🏻‍♀️: Ugh I mean.. it would probably look hot and all but everyone is already wearing corsets with their costumes this year

Me: Ok..are you down to be Carrie? I don’t know I’m running out of blonde scary movie characters.

👱🏻‍♀️: I just feel like that’s kind of overdone and I don’t wanna wear fake blood it’s sticky and gross

Me: oh no all of these have dried fake blood. It doesn’t smell or rub off it’s totally dry.

👱🏻‍♀️: Uh… I mean the blood fine then I guess but I just don’t wanna be Carrie.

Me: *looks through rack* What if you wore this bloody bridal dress with a veil and then get a ninja sword from the accessories and just tell people you’re the bride from Kill Bill?

👱🏻‍♀️: *sighs* … I don’t know… I don’t know what I’m gonna do *sighs*

Me: Do you want a minute to think it over and look at the options?

👱🏻‍♀️: No I need to pick something the party is tonight and I need to look cute please help me before I lose my mind

Me: What if you just went for something really easy? if you have a white turtle neck dress at home you can just buy a bloody knife and be Sharon Stone?

👱🏻‍♀️: Sharon Stone from Casino???

Me: Sharon Stone from Basic Instinct

👱🏻‍♀️: I don’t know…*sighs*

Me: Can you please excuse me for a moment, I just heard my manager calling for me…

(Spoiler alert: I did not hear my manager calling me and I spent the next hour hiding from this insufferable customer until she eventually left with a scream mask & tutu)

Posted by admin Rodney

[derfpossessions]

Rented You Out - Part 5

Previously…

Denholm and Markus were on their way to their client when they discovered a bodysuit of a man who disappeared a year ago. They decided to keep the suit and see what happened to the man and how he ended up being a lifeless suit in a box from a strange janitor.

—————

“So, what are we gonna do with him?” Markus said.

“I think I should wear him.” Denholm said.

“What?? But.. that wouldn’t make sense.. A suit cannot wear another one! You might risk yourself getting hurt!”

“But I’m not fully a suit! I want to live this man’s life to give it proper closure!” Denholm argued and grabbed the suit’s legs.

“Well.. here goes nothing.” He starts putting on the suit by opening the back zipper. There, the deflated biceps of the guy became chiseled, the veins in his arms bulged out, and the legs became more bolder. As he puts on the mask, his chest started puffing out, and the perfect jawline appeared out of the face.

Sweating, he pants and turns around to Markus, and Markus was in awe.

“Did it.. did it worked?” Denholm said in a new sexy Vietnamese accent.

“Damn your voice… it’s so baritone and suave!!” Markus’ sex drive was driving him insane.

“Well he is ripped. I’m sure he spent a lot of time building this perfect bod.” Denholm said as he looked at himself in the mirror. His now black hair, brown eyes, piercings and earrings, and tattoos gleamed out.

“Ok then, you do what you gonna do to that body, I’ll just take over your student council duties for today.” Markus said as he left.

“What’s this?” Denholm noticed Markus dropped a bag with panties in it.

“But I thought he was gay…” He added while looking confused.

Denholm scourged through the guy’s memories to see what his past life had looked like. His name was Vince Long, a Vietnamese-American who was born from a wealthy family, and an alumni from the same high school as him. Vince was a top-tier student with straight-As, and to top it off, he had a hot girlfriend. They were the perfect couple, and the happiest one, until Vince suddenly disappeared.

One night after their 2nd year anniversary, Vince and his girlfriend Aurora left the restaurant at night to head home, when suddenly a white van appeared from the dark and took Vince and Aurora in. To her surprise, Aurora was spared by the men and left alone, she was left scarred and in pain to this day.

As for what happened with Vince next, Denholm couldn’t dig into any more memories, as the load must have stopped once he was turned into a full bodysuit.

“Could Aurora been also spared and left as a half-bodysuit like me?”, Denholm questioned as he looked through the pictures in Vince’s home.

It’s been a year since Vince’s disappearance , and his flat has been maintained by his family’s staff in honor of him. Denholm puts down his bag on Vince’s bed and looks in the mirror.

“You know what… maybe I should have a little bit of fun first”, Denholm says as he takes off his shirt and starts squeezing Vince’s hardening cock.

“Oohh… haven’t tried this in a while to be honest..” Denholm whispers as Vince’s sexy deep tones come out of his mouth.

“Ahh yes.. I’m Vince the engineer.. come here baby.. the fuckboy’s gonna unleash all his cum to you..” Denholm was shocked that even the way he speaks resembled very closely to Vince’s. The months long abandoned bedroom of Vince has been blessed not by holy water, but with his fresh loaded cum that hasn’t been released since 2022. Denholm lies down in bed in satisfaction as he tastes Vince’s long-expired cum.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door. Denholm got dressed and answered it, and to his surprise, it was Vince’s parents, Mr and Mrs Long waiting for him. They held tight his son while they burst into tears.

“We’ve looked for you everywhere! We miss you so much!” Mrs Long said as she hugged her son.

The parents took him back to their family mansion where they had a Thanksgiving Prayer with a reading on the Prodigal Son, to celebrate’s Vince’s homecoming.

Then, Denholm filed an official statement regarding Vince’s kidnapping to help solve the people responsible for the his kidnapping and the others as well. A joint investigation took place while Denholm gave the police more details about a “bodysuit factory”.

After the party was over, Denholm went home to Vince’s place, where he saw Aurora.

“Babe… babe is that you?!?” Aurora started tearing up and ran up to him.

“I missed you so much…” ‘Vince’ said in shock while he hugged his girlfriend.

The two shared a romantic kiss and embraced each other with the reunion. For Denholm it felt like he gave Vince the closure he needed, but he cannot live as Vince forever.

Aurora made the next move. She dragged Vince up the stairs and the two started undressing.

Excited, Aurora undresses herself and undresses Vince’s long sleeve, and his tank top.

He revealed his white Calvin Klein boxers while his cock barks back at her as he starts to get very horny.

“This is… wrong.” Denholm whispered as he started grabbing the sheets. “Babe.. what do you mean? I missed you so much!!” Aurora was biting her lips.

“Your breath… your armpit hairs… your leg hairs… your Amazon rainforest in your cock… every single inch of you I am craving right now.” Aurora was starting up the engine.

“Oh I miss doing this.” Aurora said while she touches Vince’s abs. “Babe.. maybe we should slow down.” Vince tried resisting. “Oh fuck this. give me that!” Aurora ripped his boxers wide and revealed the arching cock that she’s been craving for.

Aurora then starts teasing his manhood until it did a standing ovation. They then started kissing mouth to mouth and rolled on the bed, knocking over the bed sheets.

Vince’s mouth started watering as he grabbed Aurora’s breasts to drink her milkshake. He gave her clitties a blessful kiss, and he started inserting it in. The hole kept declining though, like a debit card refusing to be read by an ATM.

She then licked his ass, with the expired butt hairs electrifying out like that one Nair video.

“Why not repair my ass? Civil engineering? Fuck that.. engineer this pussy.” She started cracking up.

“What the fuck is this woman on?” Vince started to get so scared. She then resisted him pulling away and she bited his pecs. He screamed faintly like a little girl but felt delighted and rubbed her back again.

“You know what…? Let me fold you like a fucking pretzel.” Vince grinned. She screamed out loud as he bent her back and put the funnel into the bottle opening. She screamed and screamed and screamed. They were both suffocating in each other’s saliva, cum and seemingly piss. They were banging the walls and even squeezed themselves in the closet. She was freaking out as he chased him down the halls, both naked.

They Netflix and chilled, he pulled her many times to kiss her, and she rubbed his pubic hairs like petting their Shih Tzu Tracy. It was a very immaculate and blessed moment.

They did various poses! Doggy, cowboy, missionary, and our favorite, 69. They did it and did it until they got sweaty and started panting.

Aurora slurps out Vince’s loaded manhood like she’s slurping out a big bowl of ramen. She giggles as his load explodes out of her face, and she kneels down as he starts inserting his rubbery dick into her rubbery pussy. (Hold on… rubbery pussy..?, We’ll get there later on.)

Vince was making sure the zipper at the back of his neck wasn’t opening out as he exerts extra pressure against Aurora in bed. They both giggle as Aurora licks Vince’s smooth sweaty abs and she starts biting them. Vince screamed out but it didn’t hurt as much as he expected, it felt like he got bit by a dog while wearing a silicone rubber pants.

“Let’s do it again.” Aurora said while running out of breath. They initiated their sacred rituals again and again throughout the whole night. Fuck me ‘til up daylight indeed.

As Vince and Aurora finally covered themselves under the sheets, they both rest and as they cuddle each other, not knowing something behind there was opening up. Let me turn it into a saying, Don’t leave the fridge open at night.

Both drenched in sweat, Vince goes to the bathroom to get toilet paper to clean up the exploded fluids in his room. But something was wrong. The zipper opened a little bit, and was stuck.

Aurora then discovered this and just stood there as if she knew this whole time that he was a bodysuit.

“Babe.. it’s not what it looks like.. I promise.” Vince was in shock and started shaking.

“I- um.. I no… no..” Aurora was also nervous. she turned around to look away, but then it was another jaw-dropping moment: her zipper was also opened, she thought it wouldn’t get exposed but the bra she had just put on wasn’t enough to conceal it.

“What…?? WHAT?!?” Vince tried grabbing Aurora’s arm but she ran as fast as she could and fled the scene.

Denholm chased her down to the garage, but the bodysuit was starting to melt as the zipper had been exposed. He tried unzipping himself a few more tries, and managed to get out of Vince’s body.

Denholm now ran to the garage door but Aurora had locked it. Denholm tried breaking in, using everything he had on the house to reach the inside.

Denholm figured out that he could simply open the front garage doors and catch her in the act, so he pushed the button and the front garage lifted upward and he rushed inside, but it wasn’t what he was expecting, never at all expected what it was.

He took a step closer but to his surprise, Markus was there, seemingly apprehending the now-empty Aurora suit.

“Markus what the fuck are you doing here?!??” Denholm freaked out.

“I.. I don’t know! I just found this body snatcher somewhere and I followed her to this home! I didn’t know this was your bodysuit’s home!” Markus said.

“Dang it. FUCKKKKK!!!!!” Denholm let out a very loud scream as he started kicking the nearby objects. He was angry. He was FURIOUS.

“I think this suit is also like you, Denholm. I think she was also spared because she’s not hollow right now, she has a pulse.” Markus said.

“Well we better drive her home safely then. I’ll also take home Vince and keep it in our property.” Denholm said as he started the car to head home.

As he headed out, a nervous grin and a blush came out of Markus.

“I wonder if he’ll ever know…”

(17 Hours earlier…)

Aurora: “Yes, yes that would be 45.99 for the jeans.”

Customer: “Ok, I’m paying by credit. I really love your local boutique!”

Aurora: “Thank for you shopping here! This boutique means a lot to me as me and my late boyfriend invested a lot on it!”

Markus then walks in while wearing a face mask and sunglasses.

Aurora: Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique— AHHHHHH!!!

Aurora let out a loud scream and passed out.

Markus: Welcome.. and goodbye bitch.

Markus laughed maniacally as he lifted Aurora and unzipped her back, which transformed her into a bodysuit.

He then started sliding his legs into her more smaller ones, causing a huge stretch on the suit. Her body also expanded wide as Markus’ masculine torso squished in to fill in the void. Soon once Markus put on the mask, the suit realigned and formed itself: The legs started to shrink into a more feminine physique, and the waist significantly decreased and compressed Markus’ body. It was uncomfortable for him but it was all worth it. His new breasts also grew out to his desire. Markus looks into the store’s mirror.

“Hi welcome to Beautiful Botanica Boutique!” He said in a new feminine high-pitched voice.

“Hey Vince.. hey baby… hey… Denholm.”

She said while she seductively stares into her reflection, and giggled. She packed up her stuff and left to go to Vince’s place.

— TO BE CONTINUED —

[brivinty]

LOVE IS NOT OVER, IT DOSENT MAKE SENSE, STILL. ★

FEATURING; SPIDER-MAN!! Izuku x Reader (female)

— Masterlist —

CONTENT; You find out Izukus Spider-Man, things get heated, but like… in a good way. Fluff, Nicknames: Babe, baby. Fingering, multiple orgasms (f), one time spank to the ass.

Izuku is Spider-Man. Now it may sound surprising that a normal teen boy, who you just happen to be dating is Spider-Man. He’s never told you about it, you just assumed he was really busy all the time, and only liked to hang out in the morning, so you never questioned him and his oddness. Though you did question the bruises that would appear on his face and his arms but you ignored it hoping it wasn’t from home, his aunt did seem nice.

—

Izuku was out patrolling the neighborhood swinging from building to building. Then his phone rang in his pocket. He jolted before tapping the button on his earpiece. He quickly landed on the building and let out a heavy sigh. “..Hello?” He muttered pulling his mask slighly over his lips. “Hello? Hey zuku, I’m at the store, what did you want again?” You asked and he could hear the faint sounds of the stores music in the back. Izuku blinked for a couple of seconds trying to figure out why you were buying something for him. “Oh! Um! Get me anything, yea! Anything is fine.” He was quick to blurt our realizing today was both of yours movie date.

“Mk, I’ll see you then, right?” You said into the phone. “Don’t be late.” You say before ending the call and Izuku sighs contently. “Lucky me, my patrol is officially over.” Izuku said before sliding his mask down. “Luckily no one wanted to cause a ruckus today.” He said but let out a laugh and annoyed sigh when he heard sirens and people yelling. “You gotta be kidding me…!” Izuku groaned swinging into the direction of the danger.

“Gotta get this over with, she’s been waiting all week for this.” He told himself, spotting the running car. He quickly shot a web at one of the wheels, stopping the cars movement. “Out the way everyone!” He yelled and everyone cheered for him, yelling out his hero name and such. Once he stopped the car completely, he didn’t spend time to Indulge with the audience, instead he swung to his home. Once he made it he was quick to open his window and climb into his room pulling off his mask and taking off the top half of his suit, but jumped when he heard a plate drop to the ground and a gasp.

“What.. the.. FUCK!?” You yelled out, your finger pointing towards him your blush evident on your face seeing his toned abs and arms. “Babe! Hi! Uh…!” He smiled awkwardly his eyes flickering from his mask in his hand to his halfway taken off suit and to your face. “I was…. cosplaying! Ha— yeah…! …as Spider-Man! And you caught me!” He said making you give him a look. “Izuku, I’ve been here for 30 minutes, you mean to tell me, you’ve been here the whole time…cosplaying.” You said with a raised brow and your hand on your hip. He smiled before spreading his arms out widely.

“Surprise I’m Spider-Man!” He said and you looked at him dumbfounded. “Give me a second, I don’t think I heard you well.” You said taking a deep breathe. “You? your Spider-Man??” You asked blinking at him while walking closer. “..uh yea! It was supposed to be a secret! Clearly.. but—I didn’t think you were here! So I was gonna shower and be ready for the date by then a-“ you cut him off with a kiss. “Sorry, I had to couldn’t resist.” You said with a smile and he looked at you surprised. “You’re not— like mad??” He said confused. “No..? I mean, at first I was worried you were cheating— or someone was bullying you.. but now I know you weren’t cheating, just been swinging around buildings saving people.”

“In a skintight suit none the less…” you say with a laugh pulling at the fabric before walking to go pick up the plate on the ground as he tried shimmying his way out his suit looking for shorts to wear. “I thought you were cheating on me for months, because anytime I said we should hang out you always bailed on me.” You say placing the bag of chips back onto the plate glad you put the dip in a container. “But now I know you’ve just been saving the world.” You say with a grin sitting down onto the bed making him laugh. “You are so odd.” Izuku says walking towards you now in shorts but still shirtless, standing in between your legs. “How so?” You asked with a raised brow. “Any normal person would be freaking out, yet here you are, calm.” He said bringing a kiss to your lips. “Oh I’m definitely freaking out, since when did you have these?” You pointed towards his abs and he laughed. “Ever since I got bit by a spider.” He said and you grin.

“I fucking knew it! I always knew Spider-Man had to have been bit by a radioactive spider.” You said making him roll his eyes at you. “Well do you like it?” He asked and you smiled at him. “Very.” You said and he pushed you down on the bed laying on top of you. “You’re such a weirdo.” He said and you smiled. “Says the guy who’s swings around buildings daily.” You respond and he chuckles.

“Where do the webs even come from?” You asked your hand stroking his hair. “It comes from the inside part of my wrist, I just yknow, tst-“ before he could finish you cut him off. “Oh yea you just tst..?” You mock laughing at him as he rolls his eyes before giving you a kiss.

You smiled as the two of you pulled away before going back in. The two of you start to kiss each other eagerly Izuku getting up slowly from his laying down position now bent slightly on his knees his hand underneath your chin as you two made out. You both pulled away breathing heavily Izuku looking down at you. “Damn…” you whispered out looking up at him. He smiled widely at you before placing a kiss to your forehead. “Oh yeah, act all cute after that?” You sass with a pout looking away from him.

“Did you wanna continue..?” Izuku asked with a playful grin. “I mean.. if you wanted to I don’t mind..” you say with a suggestive look lingering on your face. He chuckled slightly before bringing his lips to meet yours again this time his hands roaming around your body feeling up on your curves. His hands went down to your thighs squeezing them slightly before massaging your inner thigh. You whimpered softly and he smiled into the kiss before going down to your neck kissing and sucking it. “Zuku...” You whined as your hands played with his hair tugging at it softly causing him to groan at the feeling. “Calm down, im getting to it.” He said with a slightly chuckle his lips ticking at the skin on your neck.

His hands slid up your shirt grabbing both of your breast squeezing and flicking your nipples. You moaned out your head leaning back on the bed rest allowing him more access. He finally pulled away leaning his body back, he tugged at your shirt making your body move on its own quick to take it off. “—fuck” He groaned slightly his hands brushing over his face, his face slightly red and his cock hard against his boxers. “Your not wearing a bra?” He asked as his hands gently grabbed onto one of your breast his lips closing around one as he sucked slighly on it. “Thought—…thought we were just gonna watch— movie..” you moaned out your hands pulling at his hair.

Your back arched as you moaned out, he sucked harder suddenly motivated to make you feel good. His hand moved down in between your legs sqezzing at your thighs before softly caressing your inner thigh then looking up at you. You nodded your head slightly, giving him permission to go further. He pulled away slightly before backing up slightly pulling down your loose shorts, his smirk evident at your slightly damp panties pulling them off. He grabbed your thighs before pulling you down slightly then laying down and lifting your thighs onto his shoulders.

He kissed your inner thigh a smile fighting to form on his face as you whimpered loudly. His tongue swept over your folds and your clit. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs as he sucked your soaked lips into his mouth, tongue sliding between them. His thumb rubbed hard circles over your clit as he continued to pump his tongue into you, leaving you gasping and reaching for the covers. As your fingers sunk into his hair, you could barely hold on as your heart raced in your chest. You whined at the loss as he drew his mouth back.

You moaned out as he inserted two fingers in your soaking cunt. He brung his thumb up to your lips your instinct pushing you to take it into your mouth a smile evident on his face at the action. Your hips bucked wildly as you pulled on his green curls you kept moaning as you sucked his fingers in reaching your first orgasm. You whined and moaned out as his fingers abused you soaking cunt. “You gonna cum?” He teased as he felt your body convulse and squirm as you threw your head back into the sheets.

Your legs shook as your thighs shut together, his hands quick to pry them open as you hit your peak moaning out loudly. You breathed out heavily your eyes blinking slowly as you caught yourself Izuku kissing at your thighs muttering out. ‘Goods jobs’ and ‘you did greats’. “Want you in me..” you whined out boldly causing Izuku to look at you with wide eyes before he chuckled and With a swift motion, he lifts you from your laying position and turns you around, positioning you on all fours on the bed. His hand glides across your ass, giving it a firm smack, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. "Zuku—!” You gasped out at the action, you could feel his smirk from miles away.

He positions himself behind you, his cock pressing against your wet folds, teasingly grazing your entrance. He leans in close, his face hovering near your ear. "You ready?" he ask, his voice coming off as a seductive whisper. “Give me all of it..” you whined out and he groaned at your answer before he slides himself into you with a single, powerful thrust, impaling you fully. You squealed and gasped at the thrust and quick pace your hands gripping onto the sheets as you moaned and whined in pleasure.

His thrusts continue with an intensity, each one driving into you with a forceful urgency. The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixing with your moans and gasps, as he takes you completely, relishing in the power he holds over you. Your hands reach out for his as tears start to well in your eyes the pleasure to much for you to handle, not quite used to this side of your boyfriend. He reaches out, intertwining his fingers with yours, offering a sense of comfort amidst the intensity of the moment.

He quickens his pace, the force of his thrusts building in intensity as his own arousal reaches its peak. The sounds of your moans, your whines, fill the room, blending with his own carnal grunts. The pleasure and pain become intertwined, an intoxicating mix that pushes you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. “Where do you want it—?” He grunted out slamming into you. “I-inside! F—fuck! Inside of me Zuku!” You moaned out your head smushed againts the pillow as your tears stained the whole covering. With one final, powerful thrust, he releases himself inside you, his groans mingling with your cries of pleasure. He holds you tightly, the sweat-slicked bodies pressed against each other, as the waves of orgasm wash over both of you.

He slowly withdraws from your body, his gaze lingering on the marks he has left on your skin. He smiled softly before rubbing softly at your waist before turning your body over placing a kiss to your temples. “Gonna go grab a rag.. don’t pass out..” he says with a smile at the sight of your fucked out figure. He was quick to come back from the bathroom wiping off all the slick and sweat from your body before grabbing you one of his shirts to wear sliding it over you, the shirt oversized on you making him smile.

“Sorry.. think I went too hard.” He said with a slight frown making you shake you head. “No—! No.. it was good.. I liked it.” You say with a smile placing a soft peck to his lips as his grin grew wide. “Good for Spider-Man right?” He asked with a shit eating grin and you laughed slightly. “Mhm.. pretty good for Spider-Man.”

[whyse7vn]

FLOW -

[ kim taehyung x reader ]

TAE ( ´(ｴ)ˋ )

taehyung: baby was just in the store

and the worker lady came and asked me what the flow was like

at first i was like

???

but then it clicked

so then i dropped the hardest freestyle known to man

like no joke was wayyy better than anything yoongi joon or hobi would spit

and i KNOW she was fucking with it cuz she was like

“heavy?”

LIKE YES MY FLOW HEAVY AS HELLL

y/n: are you actually brain dead be honest

taehyung: don’t be mad cuz you don’t flow like me

y/n: i do flow

taehyung: NO WAY?????

didn’t know u got down like that pretty

should we battle or something

let’s get the worker lady to judge it

y/n: did you get the fucking pads or not?

taehyung: what

y/n: taehyung

taehyung: taehyung

y/n: yes or no

taehyung: oh

y/n: don’t oh me

taehyung: um

y/n: taehyung

taehyung: ok i see where i went wrong lolz

i was standing in front of the little period isle when she asked about flow

in my defence she should of been more specific

like i’m kim taehyung

ofc i’m gonna be thinking about music

like that’s my whole life

y/n: you had a mask on no?

taehyung: yeah

but i have real recognisable eyes she should of known

y/n: or maybe you should of had some fucking common sense?????

taehyung: i did

it’s very common to confuse flows

y/n: you were standing in the pad isle and chose to freestyle

taehyung: did do that

y/n: you amaze me

taehyung: thank u ❤️

y/n: that was not a compliment

taehyung: i’m pretty sure it was

y/n: i’m telling you it’s not

taehyung: someone’s on her period 😭

y/n: I AM

i’m actually going to strangle you

wow

taehyung: almost home

y/n: do not come back

taehyung: let’s get the pads together

and like idk what size pussy you wear so like you can help

y/n: stop talking to me

oh my god

i hate you

i actually hate you

taehyung: is ur pussy big???

be honest

y/n: STOP TALKING

IM BEGGING YOU

taehyung: small medium or large

just like a coke from mcdonalds

tell me babe

y/n: you did not just compare my pussy to a fucking mcdonalds coke

taehyung: would you of preferred i said sprite??

y/n: go

away

taehyung: meow

are you mad at me????

what did i do

baby :(((((((((((

y/n: if you do not come home with my fucking pads and flowers i’m not letting u in

taehyung: what about mcdonalds???

y/n: fuck off

taehyung: ur telling me ur not hungry rn…

y/n: are you trying to call me big??

taehyung: the biggest!!!

y/n: blocked.

taehyung: HEART

THE BIGGEST HEART OH MY GOD BABE I SWEAR

OH MY GODDD I SWEAR THE BIGGEST HEART U HAVE IT I WAS SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT

ITS HARD TO TYPE AND WALK I SWEAR OH MY GOD

y/n: don’t care kys

taehyung:

y/n: what the actual fuck is wrong with you

taehyung: wrong photo

there you go

🫰🏻🫰🏻🫰🏻

why they kinda look like us waitttt

y/n: that is a white man and woman

taehyung: us in an alternate universe

y/n: bye

taehyung: baby talk to me pls

come back

let’s love

not fight

#lovewins

not hate

let’s hold hands

skip in some fields

let’s paint

omg paint me like one of ur french girls

didn’t that girl that like almost drown say that

lol

flipping loser

i could never drown

put me in the middle of the ocean and i wouldn’t drown i’m telling you

i’m a swimmer

not a drowner

put me in a hurricane bro

y/n: hurricane??

taehyung: the big wave of water thing

y/n: a tsunami????

taehyung: is that not a dessert…

y/n: what

taehyung: tsunami

y/n: no

taehyung: babe…

y/n: just piss off actually

taehyung: i told you

y/n: that literally says tiramisu

taehyung: exactly

y/n: last words

taehyung: chicken nuggets?

you can no longer send messages to this contact!

taehyung:

aw wait wtf :/

—

silly little silly post

don’t hold me to this btw these are just quick silly little sillies you get me??? probably not but it’s ok cuz i get it and that’s all that matters in life sighs

i could be a poet guys i’m telling you

tags: @piw6n @jvmisvu @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @seokmyballs @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @yojaschill @k4ngelz @junghoseokshusband

[deansmom]

Everytime I point out that Dean Winchester is autistic, people get mad or look at me like I’ve spontaneously grown a second head, as if this man’s existence isn’t just checking off boxes for the diagnostic criteria

Special interests: westerns, cars, mechanical engineering stuff in general, 1960’s & 70’s music - specifically classic rock, monsters. You’re gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that it’s totally normal for someone who was born in 1979 to have borderline encyclopedic knowledge of two decades of music????? Hundreds of years of monster lore??? — for fuck’s sake, he had a train thing when he was little!!!! Those are special interests!!!!

Restricted diet: it’s mostly for Jokes but dean genuinely doesn’t eat much beyond burgers, diner food and pie.

Dean didn’t speak for months after Mary died and there’s 15 years of canon evidence where he loses his voice during moments of Big Emotions!!! He’s going nonverbal!!!!!!!

Trouble with social cues: literally look at every single instance of Dean trying to interact with strangers, ESPECIALLY in the early seasons. He’s not playing dumb, he just doesn’t get it. Also, watch any scene of this man TRYING to flirt and tell me that he’s any good at it. You know why? That bitch is mimicking the fucking movies and tv shows he grew up watching.

Sensory processing disorder: DO YOU THINK HE WEARS 87 LAYERS FOR FUN???? FOR FASHION????? WHAT DID YOU THINK ALL THE FLANNELS WERE ABOUT. THEY’RE SOFT. Also think about how much he liked the nightgown and the robe. ALSO, ALSO: school!!! It’s loud, it’s smelly, it’s dirty (his germ thing), the lights are too bright, there’s too much sensory input happening at one time. Between being so overwhelmed in school that he couldn’t focus and John pulling him left & right for cases and Sam, no wonder dean dropped out :(

14.04. The comic book episode is an ENTIRE episode about dean and his special interests!!!!!! And his social anxiety, hiding out in his room at the beginning of the episode because of all the strangers in his home 😤

Emotional regulation problems: those angry outbursts?? Destroying the Impala??? LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME THATS NOT A MELTDOWN

His whole personality is a mask! He based his whole life and personality around the men he grew up around! John, Bobby, the other hunters - we all know that dean isn’t this rugged manly man he puts on. Sure people can have layers, but my man literally wore his dad’s actual jacket for fucking years

Black & white thinking: this doesn’t need anything else tbh

Strong sense of Justice: “how many people do you have to save?” “All of ‘em. Whole wide world of sports.”

Literal thinking: half the show is about how they both have to learn to look at monsters and not immediately go “monsters bad.” Also literal thinking is hard to explain, but I promise he does this.

Hyperlexic: “what? I read?”

“Too blunt”: all those times you thought “that was kinda harsh Dean” or “wtf that was so mean” - he doesn’t like lying to people when he doesn’t have to!

Hyper empathy: “The baby in the well? My bad.” “I do my best to be brave.” Sacrificing himself for people over and over again. The djinn episode and the speech he makes in front of John’s grave. His whole life he’s been told he cares too much!!!!

As a fellow AuDHD bitch, the most AuDHD thing Dean has ever said was “we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous.” Also: “I got no idea. But what I do have is a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude, and I’ll figure it out.”

Like I could dive into the nuances of all of these and explain them in great detail and find textual evidence for basically everything, but it’s too early in the morning for that much work when I know that I’m right. Yeah he has adhd, obviously, but I will eat my left hand if that man isn’t autistic.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hiiii! Happy spooky season. I have a request for wade Wilson with choosing couples costumes!!!!! 👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃 I'd love to see what u come up with!!

The Spirit of Wade

You sat at your desk, buried beneath a mountain of work. Papers, emails, spreadsheets—all of it had piled up over the last few weeks, and it felt like you were drowning. On top of that, Blind Al’s Halloween party was just around the corner, and you didn’t even have the time to think about costumes.

Your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text from Wade.

Wadeykins:Babycakes, what’re we wearin’ to Al’s spooky bash?

You groaned, rubbing your temples. The last thing you had time for was a costume shopping spree.

You:I’m swamped with work, Wade. Can you go to Spirit Halloween and grab us something? I trust you.

The moment you hit send, you instantly regretted it. Trusting Wade with anything remotely important usually ended in chaos. But before you could follow up with any kind of instruction, a new text popped up.

Wadeykins:OMW to Spirit. Gonna make us the hottest couple at that party, babe.

You stared at the message for a long moment, then let out a resigned sigh. There was no going back now. Wade was on a mission, and you had work to finish. You figured you'd cross the "what did Wade do?" bridge when you got home.

By the time you got back to your apartment later that evening, your body was exhausted, and your brain felt like it had turned into mush from the day’s grind. All you wanted to do was change into something comfortable and forget about everything for a while. But the moment you opened the door, your heart sank as you were greeted by a sight that was equal parts adorable and terrifying.

Spread out across the living room floor were not one, not two, but ten matching couple costumes. Wade was in the center of it all, beaming like a proud toddler who’d just shown his parents his first macaroni art masterpiece.

“Welcome home, pumpkin muffin!” Wade greeted, jumping up from where he’d been sitting. His eyes twinkled mischievously beneath his mask. “I know you’re busy and all, so I took the liberty of providing options.”

You blinked, staring at the sea of costumes that now dominated your living room. “Wade… what… what is this?”

He clapped his hands together, rubbing them like a mad scientist about to unveil his latest invention. “Okay, okay, so check it out. Blind Al’s party is a big deal, right? We gotta be the it couple there. So I went ahead and got us ten different matching costumes. I know, I know, I’m basically a relationship genius.”

You were torn between exasperation and amusement, but the exhaustion from work melted away as Wade’s enthusiasm radiated through the room. With a sigh, you dropped your bag by the door and walked over to inspect his selections.

“Alright, what do we have here, then?” you asked, folding your arms.

Wade excitedly began showcasing each option, holding them up like a game show host showing off prizes.

“Couple number one!” Wade started, holding up two banana suits. “Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich!” He held up a jar of peanut butter with a wide grin. “Get it? You’ll be the sweet banana, and I’ll be the chunky peanut butter. It’s a classic combo, like us! Everyone loves PB and B.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not bad, but let’s keep going.”

“Couple number two!” Wade swept his arm dramatically toward the next option. A pair of hospital gowns—complete with matching IV drips. “Doctor and Sexy Patient! Except... we’re both patients because it’s sexier that way. Plus, I already have practice wearing hospital gowns, thanks to the whole ‘mutated cancer mess.’”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “I think I’m gonna veto that one.”

“Fair, fair.” Wade shrugged. “Couple number three!” He held up a pair of inflatable T-rex costumes. “Dinosaur Power Couple! Imagine us stomping into the party in these bad boys. We’ll be unstoppable!”

“That sounds... sweaty.”

“Yeah, but think of the dramatic entrance!”

You chuckled. “Next.”

Wade dramatically threw his hands into the air and skipped to the next set. “Couple number four:Bob Ross and Happy Little Tree!” He waved around a giant paintbrush and an afro wig. “I’ll be Bob, you’ll be my masterpiece! I can paint you with compliments all night.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sweet, but no.”

Wade was undeterred. He spun toward another option, holding up matching black-and-white striped shirts. “Thieves in Love! We could go around the party, stealing snacks and hearts.”

You laughed. “Okay, that’s pretty cute.”

“Right? But wait, there’s more!” Wade dashed to the next set. “Ketchup and Mustard! Or Salt and Pepper! Or Burger and Fries!” Each matching pair was more ridiculous than the last, and each idea more absurd. You couldn’t stop laughing as Wade enthusiastically presented each costume, making over-the-top sales pitches for all of them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of couples costumes, Wade stopped in front of the last pair and turned to you with a grin that could only mean trouble.

“For the grand finale,” he said with a flourish, holding up a pair of cheesy superhero costumes that were definitely not part of any known franchise. “Super Wade and Super You! Capes included. We fight crime and bad party snacks.”

You rubbed your face, unable to stop smiling. “Wade… this is insane.”

He stepped closer, his eyes softening beneath the mask. “I know, but I wanted to give you choices. I know you’ve been working hard and you’ve been stressed. Figured I’d take some of the load off by going overboard with options. Plus, it gave me an excuse to flirt with you in a million different ways. Win-win.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Wade. Really.”

He cocked his head, a hint of shyness peeking through his bravado. “So… which one? Or should we go with my favorite?”

“And which one is that?”

Wade’s grin turned mischievous again. “I’m voting for Super Wade and Super You. ‘Cause let’s face it, babe, we’re already super together.”

You shook your head, but your smile never wavered. “Alright, fine. Super Wade and Super You it is.”

Wade let out an excited cheer, pumping his fist in the air before pulling you into a tight embrace. “We’re gonna be the sexiest, crime-fighting couple at that party, babe. Al won’t know what hit her.”

You laughed, leaning into him as he twirled you around. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible or impossibly charming?” Wade teased, dipping you dramatically.

“Maybe a bit of both.”

As you settled into the costume that night, you realized that, once again, Wade had managed to turn what could have been a stressful situation into something fun and ridiculous. And as you both headed out to Blind Al’s Halloween party, arms linked and capes trailing behind, you couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[moralesmilesanhour]

if you believe in me - 04.2

summary: a very brief intermission. between aaron and his father, miles wonders who he takes after more. wc: 1.5k a/n: this chapter is me trying to get back into the swing of things before the next major plot point (!!!) so this might feel a little slower and more introspective. thanks for reading! (reblog with ur favorite comic or manga if u want idk) taglist: @shuna-boin @aloraangelix @vhstown @sillykirb @proudgojofucker @weirdducky17 @milesandcorysupermacy prev. next

BOOM!

Miles hits the ground shoulder-first with a dull thud, the storage building bursting into flames behind him.

I’m gonna feel that one later, he thinks as he rolls to his feet and back into a sprint. But Oscorp’s gonna feel it, too.

With a leap and a shot of his grappling hook, it’s not long before he’s back on the sidewalk, with Aaron waiting around the corner. The older man has completely retired the Prowler suit now.

“Not bad for your first solo run,” he nods. “Could still be a lil’ quicker, but you’ll pick it up.”

Miles twists the joints of his metal claws. The steel is still shiny and new, save for a bit of soot from the explosion. The purple glow disappears as they power down with a quiet whir and detach to reveal the human flesh underneath. They work like a charm so far.

It’s been two weeks, but he hasn’t gotten to use them - Aaron has yet to send him on a mission where he’d have to. He wants to ask his uncle about it, ask why he let him do all that welding and tinkering if the claws were just for show. But Miles knows that if he does, the man’s brows would furrow and he’d get a stern speech about not getting too eager about that sort of thing. And he’d be right. 

So, like every other night, Miles says nothing but “thanks”.

“And what’s this one about?” 

You pointed at a comic sitting on the far side of Miles’ bed. On the cover stood a man wearing what looked like some imagined version of an “African” headdress. He was shirtless and dressed in nothing but shorts and brightly-colored boots, like the costume of a wrestler. The upper half of his face was obscured by a mask with white eyes tied around his head. The flat colors and dark lines make it look old, likely from the 80s or early 90s. Above the man on the cover was the title in bold graphic font: Anansi.

“You don’t know ‘Anansi’?” Miles asked with wide eyes before shaking his head. “Nah, we gotta fix that.”

He threw what he was reading aside, hovering his hand over the pile of comics until he located the very first issue. 

“So Anansi is like, this spider that gets turned into a human who has the abilities of a spider. Y’know, climbing up walls and shit.”

“Does he shoot webs out of his ass?”

“That’s not how that works, and no. Anyway, he’s got spider powers and he beats the bad guys by being a trickster instead of just brute force.”

You took the comic from him and began leafing through the worn pages, frankly more interested in the art than the plot. The sharp lines and crosshatching remind you of Miles’ sketches. You turned to Miles and held it up once you were finished looking at it.

“Can I borrow it?” 

There’s a shadow of uncertainty that crosses his face for a moment as you await his answer. 

“Mmm…I dunno. I’ve had that thing since I was ten. You gonna be careful with it?”

You place a hand over your heart. 

“Promise.”

He snorts, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I’ll let you have it for a week, sound good?”

“Good.”

Miles remembers that he’s supposed to ask for his comic back on the way home, the two metal claws tucked safely into his backpack.

He sneaks a glance at his uncle, and tries to copy his stride when he walks. It looks easy, but there’s a rhythm to it. Miles keeps his gaze low, but his steps lively. The key is not to show the sweat, as they say. All of one’s effort goes into making it look like there’s no effort at all. 

Aaron looks over at his nephew, and chuckles.

“Remind me of your old man when you walk like that,” he says. 

Miles grins good-naturedly. Guess the sweat shows. But it’s fine, for now.

“What’s that mean?”

“When we was young, we used to watch the older kids walk out the corner store and try to copy ‘em. The way your pops did it…”

The man’s shoulders shook with laughter at the memory.

“He kinda looked like, like he was marching almost. Just stomping down that sidewalk!”

Aaron began to demonstrate, making his steps quicker and heavier.

“I look like that?” 

Miles wrinkled his nose and began to tone down his swaying.

“Exactly like that. Shit’s kinda amazing, really. Genetics.”

“I don’t think that’s how genetics work.”

“Oh yeah?” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Then how come I got you stealing like my pops and me, and in my colors?”

Miles laughed, “But this is good stealing!”

“You got a point there.”

Aaron lifted his gaze upward towards the skyline. The moon was out in full tonight.

“Did y’all make good money, at least?”

“Sure did. Sometimes it was the only money that came in, that’s why we ain’t stop.”

There’s a beat of silence. Miles pats his left pocket to make sure the wad of cash is still there, and wonders if his uncle had to do the same thing, or if he kept it in a fanny pack or briefcase.

“So what made you finally give it up?”

“Oh, that one’s easy. Jeff did it for your mom. Hard to keep secrets with a baby on the way.”

Miles tried to picture a younger version of his father – less facial hair, no eye bags, better eyesight, probably – looking a pregnant Rio in the eye as she broke the news. He looks into her gentle face and…yes, there. Right there is when he decides it’s over. 

Even without the whole parenting thing, it probably killed him inside to have to lie to her every night about where he’s been. Miles gets it.

“What about you?”

Aaron shrugged.

“Couldn’t leave my nephew hanging.”

He had knocked on Miles’ door after a few weeks of radio silence and found the kid lying in bed, surrounded by dirty clothes and snack wrappers. The room smelt of stale sweat, the clothes piled up on the floor impossible to get through, so Aaron elected to stand just outside.

Miles looked up, and suddenly the man understood what had Rio so frantic on the phone. 

The boy’s gaze was…vacant. Like he was looking through him, at something far off in the distance. There were no words comforting enough to turn the lights back on behind those eyes. So Aaron had done the next best thing:

“Go wash up, we goin’ out.”

Miles doesn’t remember it that way. He hardly remembers anything from that period of time between the funeral and his uncle barging into his room. Just a long stretch of gray, and then the door cracks open, then he’s in the shower realizing how long his hair’s gotten, and soon he’s dodging the punching bag in Aaron’s apartment, carrying crates back and forth and maybe blowing some up on occasion. 

He knows in his head that he’s doing this to hurt the pockets of invisible men hiding in their glass skyscrapers and high-rise offices, and he’s as angry at them for sucking the life out of his neighborhood as he’s always been. 

But it had started with the door, cracked open just enough for his uncle’s face to poke through. Otherwise, Miles might’ve been content to lie there and become one with his mattress as he missed another week of school.

He wonders if his father went on those runs because he, too, looked into his future and hadn’t the slightest idea as to what he was looking at. 

Miles’ thoughts are interrupted when his phone buzzes in his pocket. You have his Anansi issue.

“So this is all you do in your free time, then? Comics and robots?”

Miles has his nose in another shounen manga.

“Is that a bad thing?”

You remember the helmet, and the parts set in neat little rows. And the tarp in Uncle Aaron’s car.

“Not for the most part. More interesting than what I do.”

Miles finally looks up, and squints. “What do you do in your free time?”

“I braid hair,” you reply with a bit of pride. “Pretty good at it, too.”

“Mm-hm, that’s what they all say before they fuck yo’ shit up,” he jokes, earning an issue of Jujutsu Kaisen to the face.

“Ow!”

“Shut up, with them fuzzy ass braids.”

Miles gasped dramatically. “You said they looked nice!”

“Looked. Past-tense.”

“Chill on me, my mom didn’t have time to re-do ‘em this week.”

Seeing an opportunity, your eyes lit up.

“Ooh, let me–”

“No.”

Miles narrowed his eyes at you.

“Aw, come on! You have so much hair, it could be fun! And you said you’d let me.”

You reached out to touch one of Miles’ overgrown braids but ended up swiping the air as he dodged your hand.

“I said ‘maybe’, and now the answer is no. You’re gonna ‘have fun’ in my hair? Like you ‘had fun’ with my t-shirt? I know you stole it, by the way.���

“I up-cycled it.”

“Cutting a shirt in half is not up-cycling, and you’re not touching my head.”

“You're so mean.”

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: still kinda blown away by the response to my svech fics! thank you!! 🥹 like i said before, gonna keep riding this writing wave as far as it’ll take me. i’ve got at least two other lil fics up my sleeve after this one! also it’s been a month and a half since the asg weekend so don’t blame me if some of the timing on stuff is weird. i tried to hit all the major cute svech moments! this got obscenely long, my apologies and i kind of hate it but nothing to do about that 😂 i’m off to the isles/leafs game, so enjoy and i’ll be reading your tags while i eat a pretzel and cheer on my island boys!

word count: 7.6k (weird, felt longer while i was writing it 😵‍💫)

tw: yeah this one’s smutty. it’s drei in miami, so what do you expect? plus google-translated russian, so ya know, reader beware.

summary: all-star weekend and bye-week with andrei

The fact that this year’s All-Star Game is taking place - in Florida! - during your “spring” break is a blessing from God. The semester is barely started, but you’re already over it, senioritis hitting like a freight train. The entire week before you leave for Florida, Andrei is bouncing around the apartment like a sugar-high child. His grin is infectious and you can’t help but smile every time you look at him.

“Solnyshka,” he says over dinner on the Monday night the week of the All-Star break, “I’m an All-Star. The league picked me.”

It’s been weeks since the initial announcement and he’s still just as excited and disbelieving. You lean over and kiss him, “of course they did! Drei, you’re literally the best player I know.”

He laces your fingers together. “I’m glad you’re coming. And my parents and Geno. It will be the best weekend.”

“And the best part is that you’re on bye week after that,” you sigh, thinking happily of all the time you’re going to get to spend in the Miami sun with a shirtless, beachy Andrei. Yeah, you’re definitely excited for this year’s All-Star Game.

Andrei nods, looking you over with soft eyes. He grins, but it’s really more of a smirk, “what are you packing?”

When you raise an eyebrow, he continues, “I just want to make sure we are not going to accidentally bring the same things.” His face falls into a mask of pure innocence and you laugh out loud.

“Unless you,” pointing your fork at him, you start, “plan on bringing half a dozen bikinis in neon colors, then I think we’re fine.”

“Oh,” Andrei shakes his head, “I think I’m going to have to repack my bag then.”

Another laugh startles from your chest and you picture Andrei in all of his 6’2”, muscled glory wearing one of your bikinis and start giggling hysterically. “I’m sorry,” you gasp out between laughs. You’re always laughing with him and Andrei looks so proud of himself for making you laugh and smile all the time. He really is one of the happiest people you’ve ever met.

“I am thinking hot pink,” he grins, continuing the joke further. He leans back in his chair, kicking out his feet to nudge them against yours, always looking for a point of physical contact.

Still giggling, you manage, “that’s going to look really good with the inevitable sunburn that you get.”

He can’t even dispute that since he regularly burns any time Raleigh sees more than two or three days of sun. With a shrug, Andrei replies, “good thing I have you to put sunscreen on my back.”

After dinner, you decamp to the bedroom so Andrei can finish packing and so you can start packing. They’re playing at home tomorrow, but are off to Buffalo for the next night and then the All-Star weekend starts on Friday. Andrei’s planning on flying straight from Buffalo to Florida and you’ll meet him there on Friday after classes. He’s a surprisingly chaotic packer and you watch him toss items into his suitcase, knowing you’re going to tidy it up for him. You set your own suitcase next to his on the bed and start pulling clothes out of your drawers and fold them methodically.

While you’re digging through one drawer, Andrei comes up behind you, crowding your space and snaking his arms around your body to pluck a handful of lacy underwear out of the drawer. “Here, all packed,” he teases, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. The lacy scraps of fabric look even more insubstantial in his hand, thick fingers wrapped in the fabric.

You lean back against his chest and angle your neck so you can look up at him. “You know I’ll be spending quite a bit of time with your parents, right?” You reach for a few pairs of more modest cotton panties and wave them in the air. “I need my clothing to be opaque at least.”

“Only when you’re with my parents,” Andrei says, trying to be serious and lasting for approximately ten seconds before his dimple pops out. “It’s Florida, you’ll be hot otherwise.”

“Thanks for caring about my temperature regulation,” you deadpan, turning in his arms and leaning up to kiss the edge of his jaw. A few days worth of stubble scrape against your lips and you loop your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know I’ve said it, but, I’m just really proud of you, Drei. This is so exciting.”

He smiles a little sheepishly, the tips of his ears going pink, and drops his head to rest his forehead against yours. “I’m glad to share this with you and my family,” he says quietly, shrugging a little. “They deserve as much as I do.”

That had been something that had surprised you when you first starting dating Andrei - how much he loved and respected his family. Your initial impression of him - tall, gorgeous, accented professional hockey player - had not included a thought or inkling that he was the sweetest, most respectful, mama’s boy in the greater Raleigh area. But as you’d learned more about his childhood and upbringing, his personality makes so much sense. Getting to see his relationship with his parents and Geno is one of your favorite things. Especially his relationship with his brother. Geno’s two and a half years older than Andrei and practically a superhero to your boyfriend. They text constantly and FaceTime at least once a week, usually more, and if you were less secure in your relationship you might have been annoyed that Geno was Andrei’s first call about being chosen as the Canes’ All Star. You’re mostly just used to waving at Geno when Andrei wanders past the couch while he’s talking to his brother. It’s sweet.

“Let’s make it a weekend to remember, huh?” you ask, leaning up into another kiss. Andrei gathers you into his arms and backs you up to the bed, pulling down your sweatpants with one hand and holding your wrists above your head in the other. You shimmy a little, helping him get your sweats off and surrender to his lead - definitely starting the weekend right, even if it is only Monday.

Andrei’s up early the next morning, getting in a quick workout while you get ready for class. You’re prepping a smoothie for yourself and a protein shake for him when he comes back to the apartment, red-faced and sweaty. “Spasibo,” he takes the offered shake with a kiss to your temple. It’s gone in three large gulps and you watch Andrei’s throat move as he swallows, feeling a little dry-mouthed from the sight. You shift, pressing your thighs together, and lean against the counter, dipping at your smoothie.

“Pozhaluysta,” you reply, practicing your extremely basic Russian. You’re not even sure if you’re saying it right, but Andrei’s face splits into a proud grin and you figure you must be close enough.

“I love when you try the Russian,” he says, stepping into your personal space and nuzzling his nose into your hair. “It’s hot as hell.”

“Right back atcha,” you tease, pushing away from him a bit. “You’re all sweaty. I have to go to class.”

Andrei laughs and wraps his arms around you, making you shriek and protest. “I won’t see you until Friday! You’ll miss me,” he argues, holding you tight.

Wiggling away from him, you shoot back, “you, maybe. Not your gross, sweaty shirt!” But you’re not really mad at him, not when he’s so cute and smiley and you really will miss him until you see him on Friday. “You’re all packed right?” You ask, back against the counter.

Andrei nods, “all ready to go. I even have extra space, if you want to shop with my mom in Miami.”

Your heart melts at how thoughtful he is and you clap a hand over your heart. “My hero,” you tease. “You really know me so well.”

“You should have plenty of room,” he teases, eyes crinkling at the corners, “since your bathing suits are so small.”

“I’m leaving,” you laugh, leaning up to kiss him again. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

Andrei catches your wrist in his hand, tugging you back a few steps and kisses your shoulder. “Fly safe, solnyshka,” he says and you melt again. Twisting your fingers in the hem of his shirt - God, it really is so sweaty - you nod up at him.

“I’ll do my very best, Drei.” A slow smirk and a wrinkle of your nose. “My pilot’s license is a little outdated, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

It takes a second for your joke to land, Andrei’s face morphing from confusion to amusement, and he swats gently at your ass. He flounders for a word before settling on “derzkiy,” which you make a note to Google Translate later. “Off to class then,” he shakes his head, nudging you to the door. You let him push you along, gathering up your phone and backpack as you go.

Once you’re at the door, you push back against the hand in between your shoulder blades and look up at him with wide eyes. “A kiss for the road?” you pout gently, pulling one of his favorite moves.

Andrei sighs, pretending to be exasperated, and kisses you once, quickly. It’s barely a brush of his lips and your mouth falls open. “That’s it?” You complain. “I won’t see you for three days and that’s the only kiss I have to keep me warm during the cold, lonely February nights?”

“If I kissed you the way I want to kiss you,” Andrei replies, voice lowering a bit as he leans in, his forearm resting on the doorframe, “then you will miss class and I will miss the games. We will both miss the All-Star Weekend too.”

“Oh,” you blink at the intensity of his tone. “Well,” you pat his chest, “keep that energy ready for Friday then.”

He swats at your ass again, sending you out into the hallway with a loud giggle.

The rest of the day slips away into a blur of classes, school work, and meetings with advisors. Before your night class, you text Andrei in your usual pre-game ritual - a string of emojis (red heart, white heart, black heart, and the tornado). He replies a few minutes later with his usual string of incomprehensible emojis, this time they have an abundance of suns and palm trees in the middle of the string. You smile at the message, hearting it and setting your phone back in your bag.

The game is a win and you talk to Andrei on the phone briefly before he gets on the plane. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the game and you can barely hear him over the sound of the boys celebrating.

“I love you,” you grin down the line, burrowing under the covers. “Break a skate tomorrow.”

“I love you,” he replies. There’s a beat and then, “what are you wearing?”

You laugh loudly and answer honestly. “Old sweatpants, thick socks, and one of your sweatshirts. I’m fucking freezing.”

“At least you aren’t going to Buffalo,” Andrei shoots back on a laugh. “Who will keep me warm there?”

“Your boyfriend, Pyotr, of course,” you reply, blasé.

“His hands are not as soft as yours,” Andrei shoots back, laughing.

Someone on the plane calls for him and you blow kisses down the line, letting him go.

Wednesday is much of the same, except your excitement for Florida is building and making it hard to focus. You get in some more studying before the game, text Andrei, and finish a paper while you watch the boys beat the Sabres. After the game, he texts a little more, getting ready to head down to Florida. You make sure the remind him about sunscreen before you get down there.

On Thursday, he sends a series of selfies from the beach while you sit in class, wrapped in a down coat and scarf.

You: I hate you

Andrei: No you don’t.

Andrei: I miss you

Andrei: I need someone to rub sunscreen on me

Andrei: 🤩🥰😌🤤🩳🌞☀️☀️☀️🍆🍆🍆

He’s insane and you love him.

Once class ends, you still have the rest of the afternoon and you head back to the apartment to clean up. The idea of coming back to a freshly cleaned apartment after a week’s vacation is definitely a motivating factor. While the sheets are in the wash, you empty out the fridge and make a dinner from the salvageable leftovers. The bathroom gets scrubbed and all the dishes are washed and put away. Once you’re done, you light a candle and settle into do a little self-care. If you’re spending a week in Miami, you don’t want to have dry skin and messy cuticles. You’re not even sure you’ll be able to sleep, despite your early flight, you’re just really excited to see Andrei again.

Airports are probably your favorite place. They’re lawless and chaotic and literally anything goes. Your best friend is a saint and drives you to Raleigh-Durham at 4 a.m. so you have plenty of time before your 7:30 a.m. flight.

“I don’t understand why you insist on being a suburban dad about air travel,” Kate sighs, then yawns.

“Because I have anxiety?” you counter, deadpan. Sue you for wanting to make sure you’re on time for the flight. So many things can go wrong with flying. Why not cut some of those problems off by being early and adaptable.

“You’re insane,” she says, pulling up the the curb at departures. “Have a safe flight, immediately bang that fine specimen of a man when you get to Florida. Love you!” She blows a kiss at you after giving you a one-armed hug over the console.

“Hah, thanks. Love you too!” you shout over your shoulder, pulling your suitcase and duffel bag out of the backseat. You wave once more before heading into the airport.

It is predictably chaotic, even so early in the morning, but you get through security smoothly and find your gate before going off for a coffee and breakfast. You explore the shops, picking up three cartoon-covered romance novels and a more serious looking contemporary fiction. The books fit easily into your duffel and from there it’s just a matter of waiting to get on the plane.

The flight to Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood Airport is smooth and before you know it, it’s 10 in the morning and you’re exiting the plane and traipsing through the airport in search of the taxi stand. While you walk through the airport, you look around, people watching, and your gaze lands on a familiar figure holding up a sign that says “SOLNYSHKA” in chicken-scratch handwriting.

Andrei’s face is split into a wide grin and he gives you a little wave when he sees that you’ve spotted him.

“Oh my god!” You yelp, running for him. “Drei!” Your suitcase and duffel bag fall to the floor as you take a running leap and jump into Andrei’s arms. He drops the sign and catches you, arms wrapping around your waist as your legs lock around his. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

You cradle his face in your hands and kiss him deeply, ignoring the sounds of the people around you. His tongue slides over your lower lip and you open your mouth for him, angling your head and deepening the kiss. His hands shift and grip at your ass and you press closer to him. He pulls back a little and then kisses you again, softer. Still holding you in his arms, Andrei says, “I wanted to surprise you. I couldn’t wait another minute to see you.”

“God, I missed you,” you nuzzle your nose against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. Andrei sets you back down on your feet and picks up your bags.

You learned early on not to argue with him about carrying luggage. If he has the hands free, Andrei’s always going to carry your bags. So, you fall into step next to him, practically skipping with excitement. “So what did you do yesterday? Have you relaxed a bit?” You ask as you head for the parking lot.

He shrugs, “I spent time on the beach. Mama and Papa got to Miami last night and will be here around lunch, so I was talking to them. Mostly, I missed you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “The bed is very big and lonely without you.”

“You really miss me hogging blankets and clinging to you like a koala?” You grin. “Wow, you must really love me.”

Andrei holds your hand for the entire thirty minute drive from the airport to Fort Lauderdale Beach Park, where the players are staying in a hotel and the league has set up a beach festival for fans and the players’ families. The hotel is gorgeous and Andrei’s room looks right out onto the beach.

“Oh, this is nice,” you look around the room, making a beeline for the balcony. “A girl could get used to this.”

Andrei’s right behind you, holding you close, face buried in your hair. “Better that you’re here now.” He kisses down the column of your neck, stubble scraping at your skin. You lean back against him, feeling the hard ridge of his cock against your ass. You wiggle a little, deliberately teasing him.

“How long did you say until your parents get here?” you ask on a breathy gasp. Andrei’s sucking a bruise behind your ear.

“Plenty of time,” he replies, sliding a hand into the front of your leggings and grunting when there’s not that much space to work with. You wiggle again, pulling at the stretchy fabric with both hands to get the waistband down around your thighs. Andrei’s fingers flex against you and you arch you back into his touch.

“Good,” you sigh. “We have three days worth of time to make up for!”

Forty-five minutes later, you’re both sweaty and tangled in the extremely comfortable bed sheets. Your legs feel like jelly and you’re sore in all the best possible places. Andrei rolls onto his side, already half-hard - again! for the third time, Jesus Christ - and kisses your shoulder. “Shower?” He asks, with a curve to his lips and a twinkle in his eyes that you know means he plans on making sure you have at least one more orgasm before you head out to the beach festival to meet his parents.

“Shower,” you agree, shriek-laughing when Andrei gathers you in his arms and makes for the bathroom. You laugh and soap each other up, kissing and touching and making the shower twice as long as it has to be.

Finally clean, you slip into a pair of cut-off shorts and a nicer top, ready to head out. Andrei texts his parents as you make your way out of the hotel and makes plans to meet them at the main entrance to the park. Once he’s done texting, he slips his hand into yours and you enjoy the stroll from the hotel. “Have you seen any of the other guys?” you ask.

“Not yet,” Andrei shakes his head. “Everyone is getting in at different times. It was quiet, some of the guys from the west coast came in yesterday, but,” he shrugs, “I don’t know them. Kirill and I had dinner.”

“Andreyusha!” A familiar accent calls Andrei’s nickname and you grin when he entire face lights up. His mom and dad are suddenly in front of you, both pulling their son into a tight embrace.

You hang back just a bit, not wanting to interrupt the reunion since he hasn’t seen his parents since Christmas. But after she’s done with Andrei, Elena turns to you and pulls you into an equally tight hug. “Ah, nevestka, we’re so happy to see you!” She presses kisses to both of your cheeks and you love how much she care about you too.

“I’m so excited you guys could come,” you reply, getting a nod from Igor. He’s much less effusive and demonstrative with his affection, but you don’t mind. He’s warm enough when you talk and Elena gives enough hugs for the both of them.

Andrei has his arm draped over his dad’s shoulder and he looks so happy to be with his parents. “You’ll see the fun, silly hockey tonight,” he says, starting to explain the Skills Competition.

Elena loops her arm into yours and you all begin to walk around the park. “We will look for Andreyusha’s puck,” she decides, gesturing to the giant decorative pucks that dot the park with each player’s picture on them. “By then, we will have to send Andrei back to get ready for the show, yes?”

“The red carpet arrivals, right,” you agree, smiling to yourself at the idea of your boyfriend on a little red carpet. “He’ll have to get even prettier than he already is.”

Andrei shoots you a playful glare and you stick your tongue out at him, laughing. He and his dad fall into step behind you and Elena, talking in rapid-fire Russian. Elena starts telling you about all the fun shops she and Igor had seen in Miami, “- I think we will go shopping next week, yes? That will be fun, but of course you and Andrei will have time alone. Don’t worry that Igor and I will be around all the time.” She laughs knowingly. “Kids do not want mama and papa around all the time.”

Your cheeks heat up with Elena’s implication, but she doesn’t seem to notice, having spotted Andrei’s puck off in the distance. She pulls you and Andrei in that direction and takes multiple pictures, handing her phone off to you so you can take a picture of her and Igor in front of the puck.

While you snap pictures, Andrei looks down at his phone. He frowns a little, “I have to go get ready.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Have fun with Mama and Papa and I will see you later.”

“Okay, have fun. Make good choices,” you tease, ducking away from his groping hands knowing he’s going to try and tickle you.

He calls out to his parents that he’s leaving and Elena gives him another hug, patting his cheek when she pulls away. “Comb your hair, yes?” She nudges him and Andrei nods.

“Yes, Mama.” He gives you a soft smile, not embarrassed in the least about his relationship with his parents. And then he’s gone, walking back towards the hotel, leaving you alone with his parents for the first time essentially ever. Sure you’ve spent time with them over the year you’ve been dating Andrei, but never alone and never for such a long period of time.

Luckily, Elena is a warm force of nature, so she steers the afternoon perfectly, guiding you and Igor to the beach festival proper for cocktails and to people watch a little. She asks about your classes and your family and takes an interest in your thesis project. It’s actually really nice being the center of her attention. She and Igor treat you to dinner and before you know it, you’re in FLA Live Arena, finding your seats to watch the Skills Competition. The arena is crowded, but not packed and you love looking around and seeing the mix of jerseys in the stands.

The players are getting announced and you and Elena stand and cheer wildly when Andrei skates out, both of you taking plenty of pictures. You honestly can’t believe that you’re here watching him. The custom jerseys for the game are amazing - black with pink and mint green accents - and seeing Andrei in the non-typical colors makes your stomach flip a little. He looks unfairly good in the jersey. You’re glad that jersey is coming home with him.

It’s fun to watch the guys mingle on the ice and you spot Andrei standing with some of the guys from the Metro and Atlantic. From your spot in the stands you see the group - Andrei, Ilya Sorokin, Igor Shesterkin, Artemi Panarin, and Alex Ovechkin - that you’ve been mentally referring to, with affection of course, as the Borscht Belt. Andrei’s always said how nice it was to have so many Russian players in the league to chat with, so you’re glad he has this little group to enjoy the games with.

Soon enough, it’s time for the Fastest Skater competition and Elena chuckles when Andrei is announced. You look over at her and she explains, “Andrei, so fast on the ice, but that is nothing compared to when he was a child. Running from vegetables, from baths with his golaya zadnitsa out, Geno chasing him and encouraging the bad behavior.”

You giggle at the mental image of naked toddler Andrei running rampant, trying to ignore the fact that more often than not he’s wandering your apartment naked too. You’re sitting with his parents, you force your thoughts to be less dirty.

“Was he always a handful?” You ask, watching Cale Makar blow a tire and wipe out on the ice. You wince a little - that can’t have been fun, but at least it gives Andrei a better chance of winning.

“Always,” Elena confirms. Igor cuts in, “but with a smile, so can’t be mad at him.”

On the ice, Andrei gets started and all three of your turn you attention to him. He’s got a big old smile on his face, pumping his fist when he stops with a time that’s faster than you thought it would be. You’re on your feet, stamping them and cheering for him. He waves to the crowd and you feel a rush of love for him. He looks like a little kid living a dream.

Hours later, Andrei has the title of 2023 Fastest Skater and he’s bouncing with excitement when you meet him outside of the arena. Fans swarm him and he signs everything with a huge smile. You hang back with his parents, watching. Once the fans disperse and he sees you, Andrei makes a beeline and gathers you in his arms, spinning you around. “The fastest man in the NHL,” you laugh in his arms.

He kisses you and sets you back on your feet, clearly still buzzing with adrenaline. His parents get hugs too and they congratulate him before saying good-night so they can take an Uber back to their hotel in Miami proper. It’s already nearly midnight - you hadn’t realized how long you were waiting for Andrei to shower and sign autographs. He kisses his mother’s cheek and hugs his father again, before they get in the car. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of your hair, and you lean into his side, shivering a little now that it’s cooled off.

“I don’t think I can sleep,” he admits once his parents are gone.

“How about we take a walk before getting a car back to the hotel?” You suggest. “It’s a nice enough night.”

“Or a walk on the beach? I’ll call an Uber,” he already has his phone out and there’s a car in front of you within five minutes. You slide into the backseat and buckle up, tangling your fingers with Andrei’s.

You’re both quiet on the ride to the hotel, even though Andrei is clearly vibrating with energy. You nudge his ankle with your foot and he looks over at you. “Proud of you, Drei,” you say, feeling like a broken record.

He beams at you. “Being with all the guys, is a different experience. I’ll have to rub it in Geno’s face, now that I am officially fastest. He always thought he was faster, growing up.”

“Save it for dinner when he joins us next week,” you snort.

“Eh, I already FaceTimed him,” Andrei smirks, looking like such a cheeky little shit. “He challenged me to a race.”

“Brothers,” you roll your eyes affectionately.

Turns out, Andrei’s proclamation that he wasn’t tired was dead wrong and he passes out the second he climbs into bed, wrapping his body around yours. You snuggle into his warmth and have the best night’s sleep. You both sleep in late the next morning since the only mandatory event is the actual All-Star Game and Andrei doesn’t have to be at the arena until 1:00 for that. He’ll end up getting there early, since Rod is the coach and he doesn’t want to look bad in front of him. But the morning is yours to enjoy.

Andrei rolls onto his side, burying his face into your shoulder. His body is flush against your side, his erection hot and hard against your thigh. You happily slide your hand over his side, down his hip and around his front. He jerks in your hand when you wrap your fingers around him. His skin is velvety soft and you run your hand over his length a few times without any real intention.

“Solnyshka,” Andrei’s voice is a sleepy rumble at the back of his throat, “you’re teasing me.”

“Mhm,” you confirm happily. “Do you want me to stop?” You move your wrist a little faster.

“No,” Andrei groans, one arm slipping under your back and the other bracing at your hip so you come with him when he rolls onto his back. You land on his thighs with a little exhale and look down.

“Hello,” you grin, resting your palms flat on his lower stomach. His hands are tight on your hips. “Do I get to take control this morning? Are you feeling a little tired after yesterday?”

“Not tired,” Andrei grins up at you. “I just like this view best.” His hands skate up your sides and under the oversized shirt you’re wearing, coming up so he can cup your breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples.

“Ohh, okay,” you sigh, sliding forward and leaning up on your knees so you can position yourself over him. You both let out matching groans of pleasure as you sink down on him, inch by inch. Once he’s completely inside of you, you rotate your hips, Andrei joining you and meeting you thrust for thrust. You brace your hands on his chest and bend a little at the waist, changing the angle. Andrei keeps a steady hold on you, murmuring in Russian and English.

Heat coils low in your stomach and Andrei’s hand finds where you’re joined, pressing his thumb against your clit. You moan, arching into his touch, curling your toes. “Fuck, Andrei, more please,” you babble, falling apart. He lifts his hips into yours again and again, grunting when you finally fall over the edge with a shout. He continues fucking into your for a few more thrusts even as you’re boneless, draped over his sweaty chest.

He comes in you, hot and hard, and you’re extremely grateful for birth control. His arms are strong around your back, hugging you close and burying his face in your hair. “What do you want for breakfast?” He mumbles the question into your skin and you giggle. Always eating, always hungry, your Andrei.

The rest of the day is a blur of laughter and tanning on the beach before you make your way to the arena to watch the actual hockey games. The Central-Pacific match is a little boring, and really only confirms your biased belief that the really impressive hockey is being played on the East Coast. Metro-Atlantic is much more entertaining, but you’re left a little bummed for Andrei that the Atlantic takes the win. You don’t really care that much about the final Central-Atlantic match-up and use the time to get a snack and wander the arena.

Andrei doesn’t seem that upset by the loss, when you see him after the game. He’s upbeat, full of just-happy-to-be-here energy. “That was fun!” He says immediately.

“You were so good, Andreyusha,” Elena smiles, patting his cheek, eyes sparkling with pride. “Now you get to rest. Papa and I will take you to dinner and then go back to Miami.”

“Thanks, Mama,” he says, holding your hand when you fall into step behind his parents. He nudges your hip with his and leans down a little to whisper, “there’s going to be a little party in the hotel later. Will you be my date?”

A surprised and delighted little gasp leaves your mouth. It’s not like Andrei has to ask you to be his date, but it’s a surprisingly sweet gesture and you nod happily. “Yes, of course I’ll be your date,” you giggle and there’s an extra spring in your step.

The party - all of the young players and their girlfriends and wives crowded into the suite that the Tkachuk brothers rented explicitly for this purpose - goes until the early hours of Sunday morning. You barely remember anything other than winning several rounds of beer pong with Andrei, a round of spirited karaoke doing a duet with Jack Hughes, and spending at least forty-five minutes with Andrei’s tongue down your throat in a corner of the room. In short, you have a raging hangover when you wake up on Sunday morning and Andrei has to peel you out of bed and into the shower.

“How are you alive?” You mumble, pressing your lips together to fight a wave of nausea.

He shrugs, “I’m Russian. Alcohol doesn’t bother me.”

You hold your face under the lukewarm shower spray and mutter, “damn giant man tolerance.”

Showered and marginally more alive, you and Andrei check out of the hotel and get into Andrei’s rental car so you can drive down to Miami for your week of actual vacation. The sun and salt air help your mood immediately, as does the giant iced coffee and breakfast sandwich Andrei places in your lap. He keeps one hand on your upper thigh as he drives and you can’t help but heat up at his touch. God, you’re excited to get on the beach and get your hands on him.

The new hotel is on Ocean Drive, with the beach just a few feet from the entrance. You do a little dance next to Andrei when he checks in, excited to lay out in the sun. He laughs at your excitement, crowding you as soon as you get in the elevator. “What are you so excited about, solnyshka?” His eyes dance with mirth.

“Oh, seeing you in those five-inch inseam bathing suits, of course,” you shoot back.

And boy, he doesn’t disappoint. The five-inch inseam seems even shorter on his muscular legs and your mouth waters when he changes. “Oh, yep, now it’s vacation time,” you grin, rubbing sunscreen on your legs.

Andrei takes the tube from you and starts rubbing the cream into his arms. “I could use a nap,” he admits.

“It’s vacation, baby,” you throw your arms out to the side. “Nap as much as you want!”

“I think I need to work up an exhaustion first,” he says, looking you over from head to toe. The bikini you’re wearing just barely covers the important parts and you feel warm despite the air conditioning in the room.

You snort a laugh through your nose. “How about we wait until the room stops spinning for me before you start tossing me around the bed, huh?” You smile wryly. “Plenty of time for the fun acrobatics when I’m not violently hungover.”

The first two days of vacation are spent on the beach, tanning and reading the books you bought at the airport. Andrei insists on rubbing sunscreen on your ass every hour, making the argument that he doesn’t want you to burn, but his fingers slide under the fabric too often and with too much deliberation for that excuse to be valid. You order drinks and lunch, sitting together on a towel, knees touching, while you eat. Andrei forgets to reapply and his nose and cheeks turn pink, matching his pink-polarized lens Ray-Bans.

He fingers you in one of the hammocks, the fabric swaying between two palm trees. You bury your face in his chest, his hand hidden in between your bodies. A third finger slides into you, his other hand palming your ass, and you bite at his shoulder to muffle your shouts. You’re not even sure how the hammock is holding both of your combined weight, but you’re not arguing and you can barely think coherently. Andrei whispers dirty words in your ear, “come on, baby, come on my hand. Make a mess of my fingers. Want to see you lose control,” and smiles smugly when you yelp his name, breaking off into a groan. His hand is a mess and he sucks his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off.

“Fuck,” you mutter, red-faced and sweaty. His answering chuckle vibrates his chest under you and sends another spike of arousal down your spine.

If you could spend every day in the sunshine, tangled up in Andrei’s arms, you think you could die a happy woman.

Of course, it’s not just a couple’s vacation, and you’re happy about that too. Mid-week, Geno gets into town and as soon as Andrei sees his big brother in the hotel lobby, he runs from your side to wrap his brother in a bear hug. They haven’t seen each other since Christmas and you know that Andrei’s missed his brother, even though they talk nearly every day.

They do the bro-hug, smacking each other’s shoulders, talking in rapid-fire Russian. When they’re done hugging, Geno turns to you and wraps you in a big hug too. “Beautiful as ever,” he greets you with his signature missing-toothed smile.

“Charming as ever,” you grin back, loving that Drei is going to have his brother around for a few days. Having Geno around actually feels a bit like having a big brother too, so you’re always happy to spend time with him.

“So, what have I missed?” He asks while he gathers his bags and the three of you head up to his room. “Mama and Papa say you lied and stunk up the ice during Skills.”

Andrei shoved his brother playfully. “Liar. You would’ve been slower, old man.”

They bicker playfully, essentially unaware of your presence, but you don’t mind. You sit on Geno’s bed, crossing your legs, while they catch each other up on the last few days. Geno’s thinking about proposing to his girlfriend and asks both of your opinions, but emphasises, “don’t tell Mama. She’ll ruin the surprise.”

Andrei laughs and agrees easily. “Mama,” he explains to you, “cannot keep a secret for her life. Papa is like a vault. You could not torture information out of him.”

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, “your mom was really a wealth of information about your childhood.”

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you. “What did she say?” He sounds curious and a little nervous.

“I’m keeping some of those stories to myself,” you grin and Geno points at you.

“Did she tell you when Drei was little, he collected bugs? She found his collection in a drawer and screamed so loudly he cried and said she was scaring the bugs!”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” You squint at the brothers. Andrei is shaking his head, laughing.

“Then I made her have a funeral for the bugs,” he admits. “With prayers and everything.”

The mental image of tiny Andrei having a full church service of a funeral for some dead bugs is really just the cutest thing you can imagine. “I think it’s adorable and kind,” you reach out to squeeze Andrei’s fingers. “But if you ever bring a bug into our apartment, I’ll kill you myself.”

Geno laughs loudly and Andrei nods, agreeing that your apartment will remain bug free. You have plans to meet Elena and Igor for dinner, but the afternoon is time to relax on the beach. Geno falls asleep almost immediately and you scoot your towel out from under the umbrella so you can angle it over his body. You’re reclining on your stomach, flipping through a book, when Andrei starts rummaging through your beach bag. He pulls the tube of sunscreen out and you think he’s going to start reapplying, but instead he draws a smiley face on Geno’s bare chest, grinning like a Cheshire Cat the entire time. You watch him, shaking your head a little.

“You’re going to get yourself into trouble, Mister Svechnikov,” you murmur, smothering a little laugh with the back of your hand.

“He won’t sleep that long,” Andrei waves a hand i. the air. “It won’t be that bad.”

Geno sleeps for an hour and is definitely not pleased to find the smiley face on his chest. He grumbles playfully and chases his little brother right into the ocean. You watch them wrestle in the water, taking a few pictures and video for posterity. Eventually, they mellow out and start floating, which is your cue to join them. Now that you know you’re not going to get accidentally drowned, you make your way to the water, diving under quickly to get used to the temperature and float lazily next to Andrei. “I wish we were at the beach all the time,” you mumble, tipping your face back to soak up the sun. “I’m going to need a tropical vacation during the off-season.”

“Hear that, Drei,” Geno teases. “Start saving up.”

The lazy afternoon fades into evening and the three of you trudge back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. It’s sushi at some fun, fancy restaurant Elena found. It’s walking distance, so you head over a little bit before the reservation, listening quietly while the brothers talk. It’s been a long couple of days and the time spent in the sun and sand is starting to get to you a little. Andrei keeps a protective arm around you as you walk, in tune with your surroundings even as he discusses hockey with his brother.

When you get to the restaurant, Elena lavishes the boys with more hugs, Geno especially since she’s already seen Andrei this week. “Come, come,” she says, ushering you all to the table. “I am so happy to have the whole family together and to celebrate Andrei.”

She’s sitting with Andrei on one side of her and Geno on the other, but you know from past experience that the seating arrangements with shift around as dinner goes on, and you’re right. By the time you’re two hours deep into dinner, Geno and Andrei are talking with their dad and you have Elena’s undivided attention again.

“My girl, you are going to come with Andrei back home this summer, yes?” She pats your hand and takes a sip of her cocktail.

You hadn’t discussed summer plans with Andrei, not really. In the abstract, you don’t want to plan further than June, superstitious about the playoffs. And you’ll be starting a Masters program in late August, so you definitely want to be back in Raleigh before then. Of course there’s training camp to think about. So that really leaves July and part of August. You’d love to see Andrei’s home country, but he hasn’t said anything about it. Something must show on your face, because Elena laughs lightly and continues, “he is focused on hockey right now. But he will suggest it, I know. You should say yes and come. It will be a good visit.”

“I…yes, okay. If Andrei asks,” you smile carefully. “I’d love to come visit you.”

Hearing his name, Andrei looks over and smiles, dimple popping. He can’t have heard what you said, but he winks at you and you flush. There’s so much affection in his eyes. Elena nods knowingly at your side. “He will ask, and you will say yes,” her voice is firm, tone final. Case closed, you think, amused.

Food and drinks flow during dinner and you take photos of Elena with her sons and Andrei next to the inexplicable Daniel Craig wax figure by the door, laughing when he strikes a series of cheesy poses before grabbing you and dipping you into a femme fatale pose. By the time you leave to go back to the hotel, your face hurts from smiling so much and you’ve bullied Andrei into giving you a piggyback ride. He has his hands hooked under your thighs and you rest your cheek against the back of his head, bouncing pleasantly in his arms. The movement must cause you to doze off, because the next thing you know, you’re being gently set on your feet, Andrei’s arms holding your back to his chest.

“I love you,” you murmur sleepily, head lolling to the side.

“I love you, too,” he replies softly.

“This has been the best week,” you sigh. “Can we move to Miami and just be beach bums forever and have sex in hammocks?”

Andrei hums above you, apparently giving your tried, tispy thoughts some consideration. His hands splay over your stomach and he rests his chin on top of your head, “how about after I retire we become snowbirds? Six months in Miami, six months in Raleigh.”

You giggle a little. “I don’t think we could be considered snowbirds going from a warm climate to an even warmer one, but I am definitely on board with that.” Something about the vague planning for the future, even if it’s a fiction, makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“It’s settled, another twenty years in Raleigh and then Miami, here we come,” his laugh vibrates your whole body and that future doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.