summary: med school had gotten boring to jack abbot and michael "robby" robinavitch. in an attempt to liven things up, they settle on two things: serial killings and making you theirs no matter what.
tags: ghostface!medstudent!rabbot x reader, possessive!boyfriends!rabbot, med school scream au, dark!rabbot, ooc rabbot, no age gaps!, violence, medical inaccuracies, murder, improper use of medical tools, morally gray reader (idk fam she finds out but doesn't turn them in), 5.6k words of pure smut (threesome, coercion/slight dubcon, degradation, blood kink, fingering, piv-unprotected sex, blow job [when in Paris], sloppy seconds, overstimulation), small time skip at the end NSFW 18+ MDNI
notes: I feel like I am very qualified to write this as someone who has scream in their top 4 on letterboxd and has written stuilly x reader fan fiction before, so I am well versed, I also love horror and have been wanting to write a few more darker fics on the side (still throwing around the idea of a saw inspired jack abbot fic), MY TAG LIST IS CLOSED, please enjoy!
word count: 14.9k (making this the longest one shot I've ever written)
You set your coffee down with a small thunk on the long classroom table somewhere in the middle of the lecture room. Your binders and notebooks joined next, placed down more carefully to not tip the cup over, because spilling your caffeinated beverage before 8 am would have been a tragedy in and of itself. Your backpack sat nicely in the seat to your right, and to your left you placed one textbook exactly in the middle.
One for Jack, and one for Robby; just as you'd been doing since you met them during orientation of your first year. Because where one of them was, the other wasn't too far behind with you, their added third to their duo, falling somewhere in the middle.
Even though Robby was already an MS4 whereas you and Jack were MS1s, he'd known the curly-haired redhead during childhood and scooped you up right along with him. Now halfway through your second year where Robby wasn't as around as either you or Jack would like, he promised to at least sit with you when he got called in to assist during the few lectures of the ACLS provider course. Today happened to be one of those golden moments where all three of you got to be together again.
Normally, you liked to be the first one in the room to get a feel for the atmosphere and not be rushed to find a nice seat. Doing so had grouped you and Jack in Gross Anatomy and Histology last year, and you would have liked to keep the streak going, however, as you looked around the room, your eyes caught on a male student sitting front and center with his hands folded.
You fought the urge to scoff. Who fucking picks front row?
Taking a seat, your head ducked closer to your backpack, and your hands dug around to find at least one of your good pencils before Jack decided to use them all for himself.
"Are you looking for something?" the guy's voice echoed from the front.
You didn't even look up over the desk when you answered. "Just needing to find a pencil."
He fell quiet for a few moments, and you were sure he was watching you struggle to reach the bottom of your backpack, hoping that he'd stay quiet or at least look away. When you failed to grasp anything pencil-shaped, you straightened back up and squeaked when you came face to face with the guy, jolting at the sheer suddenness of his presence. He was holding a regular number 2 pencil out near your face, sharp end almost between your eyes. If you'd been any closer, your nose would have tapped it.
"You can have one of mine," he said, more insisting for someone you didn't even know.
You eyed him carefully. He was taller than you, you noted, and that even if you were still sitting down, he'd probably tower over you the way he was doing as he waited for you to take the yellow pencil. Your lips pursed together.
"I'll be fine," you answered. "My friends probably have extras."
"But I'm offering you mine. It'd be rude not to take it."
Your stomach flipped. This guy probably wasn't going to stab you with the pencil in broad daylight right before class was about to stop, but your mind went sailing right back to last night's news that yet another student had been murdered while studying in the top floor of the library, and a chill raced up your spine.
"You just go ahead and keep it; I think I'll wait," you muttered, eyes tearing away from him to look at your coffee, the steam rising steadily through the hole in the lid.
He scoffed loudly. "Well, if you're not going to take my pencil, can I at least get your name," he said as though you had to compensate him for "wasting" his time.
"Why would I give you my name if I don't even know yours first." You paused before adding with a smirk. "We're not supposed to give out our names to strangers."
From your peripheral as you turned to look toward the door, you saw him physically contemplate your words.
"Stephen with a ph," he pushed out, and you swore little droplets of his spit hit the cover of your binder.
You desperately wanted to drag a sleeve over it for good measure, but that would just open another can of worms.
His name didn't ring any bells. He certainly wasn't a part of your friend group, and you knew he wasn't the type of guy that Jack would go out of his way to befriend either.
"Now, tell me your name."
Your fingernails curled into your palms, mind willing for either Jack or Robby to walk right through the doors in some divine intervention. You were more than capable of telling the guy off, but why would you when either one could do it for you.
Women in STEM you always told them after you managed to get them to do something for you.
When you failed to answer and give up your name, Stephen hunched forward and placed both hands on the desk. Sadly, his weight and abruptness made the entire thing shake, and before you could reach out, your coffee tipped over and spilled in the opposite direction, right onto his shoes and pants. Your lip automatically slipped between your teeth in an attempt to not laugh as he yelped and cursed loudly. Yet, when he turned back towards you with fire in his eyes and out stretched hand with the pencil curled between his fingers, your face dropped.
"You bitch," he growled while shoving the pointed end in your direction. "You ruined my shoes!"
This time, you were the one to scoff. "You shouldn't have shaken the table like that, so really, you ruined your own shoes all by yourself."
His face flushed red, and his eyes practically bulged out of the sockets; he looked as though he were less than a second away from exploding and going off on you when the door opened wide, reviewing the two you had just been manifesting.
Your head whipped so hard in their direction that you winced at the twang in your neck, and your chest heaved in a sigh of relief.
"No, dude, I'm telling you, this class absolutely sucks," Jack loudly announced, hands gripping his backpack straps as he waddled in. "Just be glad we get here early because by 8 all these seats are fill—"
His words died in his mouth when he finally looked away from Robby and over to where you normally sat, and his expression dropped at the sight of Stephen still towering over you with the pencil in your face. He halted abruptly, causing Robby to follow his line of sight. You tried your best to smile and slightly wave when you met their hazel and deep brown eyes, but the damage had already been done.
Jack scowled something fierce, and his knuckles turned white. He took no time in resuming his walk over. Robby stayed close behind, height feeling more dramatic than normal.
"Heeeyyyy," you drew out before pushing up out of the seat.
Neither said nothing in return, opting to take their normal spots at your sides. Jack's hand planted in the middle of your lower back while Robby slung an arm around your shoulders, large hand squeezing gently when it rested against your upper bicep.
Jack's chin jerked out at Stephen. "Who're you?"
Stephen straightened slightly and puffed out his chest like that was going to do anything. "Stephen Miller."
"Stephen Miller," he echoed before turning to you, his eyes softening. "Do we have a problem here?"
"I was just trying to be friendly man—"
"He wasn't talking to you," Robby cut in. His eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them.
In response you raised your head slightly. "No problem. Just having a conversation."
"Didn't look like a very friendly one," Jack muttered. "You sure, sweetheart?"
"Yeah." The corner of your mouth twitched slightly, but you knew both of them could see right through you. "I'm sure."
Jack and Robby wanted to press more. Their chests had tightened the minute they saw this boy standing over you with what looked like intent to harm. For all they cared, they'd go straight to the dean and report him for violent tendencies, but the look in your eyes and normal want for no animosity kept them close. However, they did share a knowing glance over your head, something that you missed completely as you began to gather your stuff from their seats.
The door burst open a beat later, and students began filling the classroom. Stephen finally sulked back to his chair but not without one more heated glare in your direction.
"What the fuck was that about?" Jack muttered as he slung his backpack down to the ground.
You rolled your eyes. "I guess my search for a pencil was louder than I thought, so he asked if I wanted one of his. When I said no and that I'd probably just steal one of yours, he got . . . angry? I don't know; it was weird. And then he knocked my coffee over," you retold, the last little bit coming across as more whiny than you would have liked, but you were a second year med student for fucks sake.
Coffee kept you sane, and that asshole had taken your morning dose away from you.
"Sorry we didn't get here sooner," Robby stated while getting his papers out, and you fully turned his way.
This had been the first time in months that you got to see him. Between his countless hours as an R1 over at an ER a few towns over, about a two to three hour drive one way, and dealing with his own personal shit, he'd been gone long enough that a short beard covered his jaw and space between his nose and lips. You couldn't help yourself as you reached up and lightly scratched at it.
"When did this get here?" you asked, desperately trying to change the conversation.
His facial hair was soft beneath your fingers, and you felt the way he slightly leaned into your touch.
"I already gave him shit about it; don't worry, sweetheart," Jack announced loudly. "He leaves us for—what?—three months and comes back with a face blanket?"
Robby chuckled and leaned away to look at his friend over your shoulder. "Laugh it up, kid. You're just mad because all you can grow is that upper lip caterpillar."
"Please, let's save the bickering until the clock hits at least ten o'clock," you laughed.
Jack opened and closed his jaw while he made a talking motion with his hand, to which you lightly smacked hip upside the head before taking a seat. Almost instantly, Jack's left hand found the top of your knee.
"But seriously," he muttered, leaning closer so his voice didn't carry much, "are you okay, though? That guy . . ."
You placed your hand on top of his. "He's fine. I doubt he could do much damage with a pencil."
"You never know," Robby huffed. "I'll be back soon; gotta check in with Professor Barlowe." He leaned down and pressed a very light kiss to your temple, something he'd started doing recently, and then clapped Jack on the shoulder as he passed.
Your brows furrowed slightly when you noticed the way Jack let his eyes trail Robby, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. The two had always had a stronger bond than you would ever realize, and if they wanted to let you know if anything changed, you'd let them come to you first before asking invasive questions.
So, instead, you settled on asking about the homework. "Were you able to get it all done? I was up forever."
Jack pulled out a small stack of papers. "Yeah. I finished them this morning. Had a bit of a late night but managed to get a decent amount of sleep." He smiled widely, crooked teeth on full display. "How about you?"
"Uh, I don't know if you listen much to the radios but there was another stabbing last night," you murmured.
His eyebrows rose. "No shit?"
"Yeah." You swallowed thickly. "Miles Pennington. He was found by the janitors in the library. No one knows who did it since all the cameras have been out since last semester, but he had five stab wounds and thirteen clean incisions."
"How do you know all this?" he asked, shoulders hunching slightly.
"My friend works the late night desk. She's the one who called the police and stuff. I'm surprised you didn't know any of this Mr. I have a police scanner and listen to it for fun."
His head leaned back as he barked out a laugh before he looked back toward you, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "You're trouble; you know that?"
You let your eyes quickly trail the freckles that dotted his outstretched neck. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, it kept me up most of the night, because—" You looked around before leaning in closer. "They think all the recent killings are all connected."
Jack choked on his spit. "What?"
"Every single one of them had calls from an unknown number on their hand-held mobiles that ranged from five to ten minutes."
Under the desk, Jack's fingers tightened and curled into a fist. Through the adrenaline high, they'd, once again, forgotten to grab the fucking mobile.
He hoped he was able to keep a calm expression to hide the way his heart was beating wildly beneath his sternum. However, his breathing must have quickened, because he watched the way your brows furrowed with concern.
"Are you okay?" you asked, scooching forward in your chair to give him a once over.
"Fine," he managed to get out. "Just . . . I think I forgot one of the questions."
"Oh, that's okay," you said, hand already sliding your copy of homework over without a second thought.
Jack's heart clenched at your kindness that he definitely didn't deserve. Not when he was the one to give Miles every single one of those incisions with a scalpel Robby swiped from work. The guy was so close to graduating and becoming a resident, but he just had to go and flirt with you last Christmas, blatantly asking if you had plans to "stay warm" during the break. He had almost killed him then, already envisioning the way the blade would sink deep into his gut, before Robby had given him a look, eyes screaming to be patient.
He only had to wait until midterms, get him alone, and have Robby make the call and give him what they dubbed "The Test" over a call before he could pin him to the ground. It had been easy with very little struggle, even with his vision clouded with that white opened-mouth mask they'd found in a going-out-of-business Halloween store. Cash payment; no trail, no evidence.
Jack was already starting to itch again, that vein deep need to spill blood instead of stopping it from flowing, to cause harm instead of protecting.
You snapped in front of his face, and he blinked rapidly.
"You're spacing out again," you said. "Do you need to take a break? I doubt we'll get in trouble if we sneak out to get more coffee."
He shook his head. "No, I'm fine." His finger tapped on your homework. "Thanks for this . . . again."
Your hand rose and covered your mouth as you giggled. "No problem. I cannot have you flunking this class, Jack Abbot. I don't think I'd survive without you."
"Nah, you're smart enough," he said after lightly flicking your temple. "You'll probably match your first try with whatever hospital you choose."
"You think so?" Shyly, you tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear.
Jack met your eye with a ferocity you hadn't seen. "I know so."
Heat flushed to your cheeks and spread down your neck into your top, and you quickly looked back down at your papers and binder. You took one glance toward the front, eyes locking onto Robby where he stood discussing something with your teacher.
"Guess I just need to survive the next two years and hope I don't get a phone call myself," you whispered loud enough for Jack to hear over your scratching pencil and the beginnings of the lecture.
It was almost like you'd been put under a trance every time the lesson began to not miss anything important. Because of this, you missed the way Jack locked eyes with Robby over the tops of the students' heads. His older friend barely glanced in the direction of Stephen, and the slight nod he got sent a pleasured chill racing over his skin.
Jack couldn't wait to feel the slick of Stephen's blood and organs against his black leather gloves as he cut him up once clean slice at a time.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The phone's cord tangled around your finger as you giggled into the chunky receiver while Robby told you about one of the pranks his attending played on him because he fell asleep in an on-call room.
"And then, they had the fucking audacity to page me, and I went running before I fell face first into the hub!"
"And then what?" you laughed breathily, leaning back until your head hit your pillow.
"Then so many casualties came in after, and I was stuck with the cast on and unable to help! I had to wait hours before they could get it off."
"Did it teach you not to fall asleep?" you questioned with a smile that he couldn't even see, but Robby could definitely hear it in your voice.
He smiled as well, lips practically kissing his phone. "For a bit, but then I managed to find an excellent napping place."
"Did Benton tell you off for it?"
"Nope." Robby looked down at the paper in his hand, fingers playing the frayed edge. "He actually woke me up with my acceptance papers."
You sat up straight and gasped loudly. "Michael Strausser Speer Robinavitch! You got accepted into their emergency surgery program, and you didn't fucking tell me in person! You ass!"
"It just slipped my mind."
A scoff flew from your lips and echoed in his ear.
"It just slipped my mind," you mocked, voice dipping into a lower tone that didn't quite match Robby's all the way. "Did you tell Jack?"
"Yeah," he breathed.
"And how'd that go?"
Robby pursed his lips at the memory of Jack screaming at him before kissing him right on the lips. "As well as you could imagine."
"He just . . . worries about you, I think," you tried to console with your lip between your teeth. "Worried about you several hours away, worried that he won't be able to catch up."
"Did he tell you about his plans after med school?"
You nodded on instinct before catching yourself. "Y-yeah, he did. He's brave for it."
"Only Jack could want to be an Army field medic," Robby grumbled while running a hand across his jaw. "He's insane."
A low hum rumbled through your chest in agreement. "He wants to help people, but I don't understand why he thinks he needs to do it under active fire."
For some reason, tears pricked at your eyes, and you rapidly tried to blink them away. To keep them away, you did your best to sniff quietly, but the sound was louder through the phone than you thought.
Robby frowned, and his brows pinched. "Hey, why're you crying?"
You chomped down on the inside of your cheek before replying, "I don't want him to get hurt, and he's going to be so alone over there. It breaks my heart every time he wears that stupid Army crewneck he got at the recruitment office."
He knew exactly which one you were talking about; he pulled the damn thing off Jack's freckled body earlier that morning right after he got back from slicing the kid in the library with blood still crusting at his shoes and at the stretches of skin the robe didn't cover. Robby had licked it all off before taking Jack's cock in his mouth.
"Did I lose you over there, Robinavitch?" you asked when you could only hear heavy breathing.
Robby raised his brows and smirked. "Oh, am I simply Robinavitch to you now?"
"It's what you get for keeping important information from me!"
"Okay, baby, okay," he mused, laying it heavy on the small pet name. “Have you decided what you’re wanting to do after school? We could always use you over at Sacred.”
Nervously, you twirled the phone wire around a finger. “Actually . . . I’m thinking about looking into an endo fellowship.”
Your words hit him right in the stomach. “What?”
You huffed. “Yeah, I know I said I might go into emergency med, but Robby, I don’t think I can keep up with that life. Seeing all those traumas would fuck me in the head.”
“So, Jack’s leaving me, and now you’re leaving me?”
“Don’t put it like that. You’re a big boy; you’ll be fine.” Your eyes glanced around the room before widening when you caught the time. "Fuck, Rob, I gotta go. I'm supposed to meet my roommate for breakfast tomorrow before my 8 am." You paused before adding. "Thanks for talking to me. I've really missed you, ya know?"
"I've missed you too," he confessed, "a lot."
"It's not the same without you. I have Jack, but I think I can say we both feel incomplete when you're not here."
"Feel the same out there," he whispered. "I'll let you go, but I'll give Jack a plan for lunch so we can all meet up, yeah?"
"Sounds good, Robby. Sleep well," you said before ending the call.
Your hands raised high above your head, and a soft moan slipped through your lips as you stretched. Needing to use the bathroom one more time, you softly slipped from the bed and padded toward the connected suite. You still had no clue how you managed to get a room with a bathroom, but you were never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
However, only a few feet away, your phone screeched a loud shrill into the air. Your cheeks puffed as you blew out air, mind thinking that Robby probably forgot to tell you something important. Your hand curled around the receiver and raised it to your ear.
"Robby, I swear if you forgot about something again I'll—"
"Hello?" a distorted voice cut you off, and your stomach dipped ever so slightly at the unfamiliar caller.
"Um, hi?"
"Would you like to play a game?"
You frowned deeply. "No thank you. I think you have the wrong number. Goodbye."
The phone clicked back into the stand, and you turned away once more, ready to get peeing over so you could get some sleep. Yet again, your phone rang, and you jumped at the noise. This time, you stomped back over and ripped it right out and up to your ear.
"You shouldn't have done that," the voice tsked. "Because now, if you hang up again, I'll have to kill someone for you."
Your blood ran ice cold. "How is this?"
"Uh, uh, uh, I ask the questions here, sweets. And you still haven't answered my first one: would you like to play a game?"
"Fuck you," you spat. "Is this Stephen from class, because I swear if this is just some elaborate prank, I'm going to report your sorry ass to the dean."
"Oh, she has a mouth on her," he—because this had to be a man—laughed. "What fun you and I are going to have."
"I'm not going to play whatever stupid game this is, Stephen."
"Sorry to tell you, but this isn't Stephen," he growled, and the sound had you shaking slightly.
Knuckles turning white, you gripped the phone tightly. "Then-then who is this?"
"Can't tell you that or it'd ruin the surprise!" He sighed and clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Now, I will ask for the last time, do you want to play a game? Or should I start killing your friends? What are their names again? Jack and Michael?"
"If you hurt them—"
"You'll do what? You don't even know my name? But I know yours, Y/n."
Your skin itched, and you whirled around, almost like you swore that you felt someone's eyes on your body. You stepped up to your window and cracked the blinds open with a finger. When no one seemed to be standing outside, you let the slat fall back down.
"Will you play now?"
A thick glob of saliva fought back against your attempt to swallow it down. "Fine. I'll play. What are the rules?"
"If you can answer my questions, I won't kill poor Stephen here."
In the background, you heard muffled screams and cries that matched the student who had held a pencil to your face. Tears slowly streamed down your face as it fully settled that the man on the other end wasn't playing around, that a life was in your, a mere med student's, hands.
"Don't hurt him, please," you whimpered.
"Such big emotions for a stranger. Oh, you're going to be such a good doctor one day." He cleared his throat. "Question one: a twenty-three-year old comes rolling in after being involved in a motorcycle accident. Her BPs seventy-eight over forty, heart rate’s one-forty. She has absent breath sounds on the left, and her trachea’s deviated to the right. What kills her first?”
“How am I supposed to know that? I’m only a MS2, fucker.”
“You’re smart enough to know it. All that time spent with that emergency resident, and you can’t remember anything?”
“Just give me a second!”
“I fear Stephen doesn’t have ‘a second,’” he taunted, and in the next moment, a pain-filled wail muffled through your phone, causing a sob to rip right from your throat.
“Okay, okay, just—” You pinched your eyes shut as you tried to think through the question. “Tension pneumothorax,” you settled on before holding your breath.
“And your treatment to keep him alive?”
“A-a needle decompression followed by a ch-chest tube.”
The distorted voice paused on the other line. “Correct. See, I knew you would get it. You’re so smart, Y/n.”
You unsuccessfully tried to wipe the tears from your cheeks, but your eyes kept replenishing them. “Okay, I answered your fucking questions, now let the guy go.”
“I’m sorry. Was I not specific? We still have three more to go before I think of letting Stephen here see another sunrise. Next question: A trauma patient arrives talking to you. Five minutes later, they’re confused, then unconscious. What do you suspect is happening?”
A frustrated groan bubbled through your chest. “I need more information.”
“If your patient is unconscious, you don’t get more information. Tick, tock, sweets, Stephen’s counting on you.”
“It-it could be something like an epidural hematoma?”
“And what would be the classic artery?”
“The middle meningeal artery.”
“I’m so proud of you for getting that correct.”
Instead of feeling elated, you were so close to throwing up that you could taste the tang of bile on your tongue. “What’s the next one?”
“Feeling confident, are we?”
“Ask the fucking question.”
“You’ve got penetrating trauma just left of the sternum. Blood pressure is dropping. Neck veins are distended, and the heart sounds are muffled. What’s the diagnosis, doc?”
“Cardiac tamponade,” you answered instantly. It had been one of the homework questions from the ACLS provider course you had with Jack.
“Treatment?”
“Emergency thoracotomy if they’re crashing. Pericardiocentesis only if it’s the bridge.”
“I guess you really can stay awake during your classes. Now, for the final question: your last trauma patient just received a massive transfusion after losing too much blood like poor Stephen will if you get this wrong. All seems to go well until the monitor suddenly shows a widening QRS, peaked T waves, and then ventricular tachycardia. What is killing the man on your table?”
Your stomach dropped to your toes. This should have been the easiest one. You should know this.
“It’s hypocalcemia,” you stated.
The line went silent.
“Did I get it? I got it, you mother fucker,” you growled.
However, all you got was a click on his tongue. “Wrong.”
All blood drained straight from your face. “Wha-what? No, I’m certain it’s hypocalcemia. It’s the textbook definition of it.”
“The diagnosis you’re looking for is actually hyperkalemia. You would have needed to administer potassium instead. Well, the calcium would have been the protocol, but it wasn’t the answer I asked for.”
“N-no,” you stuttered out with another sob wracking your body. “Please don’t hurt him. Let him go.”
“I gave him a fighting chance like all good doctors do. But sometimes, in the real world, we can’t all save our patients. Say goodbye to Stephen. He’ll be missed in class.”
Your throat constricted in a gag as wet slashing sounds echoed through your phone speaker. You should have turned it off, but you stayed frozen to the middle of your room, mind fuzzy and close to dissociation as Stephen’s wails rattled and echoed in your brain. He gave a particularly loud screech that followed almost a ripping sound, something you’d heard before from medical tapes used in surgical classes, the tell-tale noise of someone wrongly cutting through skin and tendons.
In a few moments, he quieted before the line went fully quiet, save for the heavy, distorted breathing from the assailant. All you could manage to do was whimper and tremble.
“Thanks for playing, sweets. Better luck next time.”
The drawl of the dial tone echoed in your ear until the receiver slipped from your hand and landed in a loud thunk against your carpet. Your knees almost buckled as you tried to make your way back to your bed, bathroom break far forgotten. It didn’t even cross your mind as you sat shaking on the comforter, hands clenching the blanket.
All you could hear were Stephen’s moans and cries, and if you could get past those, the man’s words rang freely.
Say goodbye to Stephen. He’ll be missed in class.
The killer was in the ACLS provider course. One of your classmates just murdered Stephen and probably all the other guys too.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“What’s so important that we had to meet before your first class, baby? Thought you had plans with your roommate,” Robby’s voice sounded behind you, and you flinched violently at the suddenness. “Woah, it’s just me.”
Your red-rimmed wide eyes looked up at him from the empty space at the small coffee table in the on-campus cafe, and his cocky smirk dropped as he took in the paleness and horror that had been plastered on your face since that phone call late last night. Robby grabbed the top of the chair and dragged it out to sit. His knees bumped against yours while his hands gently rested on your cheeks, fingers tilting your chin in order for him to look you over, ever the doctor.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned. You sleepily watched his eyes flicker down your face in an obvious fashion. “What happened?”
You jerked out of his hold and looked back down to the table. “Let’s just wait for Jack.”
Almost as if he were waiting for you to say his name, Jack plopped down into the seat opposite of Robby, the three of you making a triangle around the table. He too was wearing a smile that dropped just as quickly as Robby’s had moments earlier. At least he didn’t start going full doctor on you, but his concern was evident in his pinched expression.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked, eyes glancing over toward Robby.
“That’s what I asked,” the brunette responded without looking away from your shaking form.
“I-I wanted to tell you both before the n-news got out,” you stuttered between shaking breaths.
Jack leaned forward and placed both his hands on the table. “What news? I think you’re scaring us a bit, sweetheart.”
“Stephen wa-was murdered,” you squeaked, “last night, right after I finished talking to Robby.” Your pointer finger picked at your thumb, loose skin catching with every scrape.
“Did your friend have to call in another one in the library?” Jack asked.
You shook your head. “No. I did.”
“You did?” Robby echoed, and his concern morphed into confusion. “Was he murdered in the girls’ dorms?”
Another shake of your head. “No.” Tears welled in your lashline, and you squeezed your eyes tight as another wave of Stephen’s cries rang through your memory.
Jack licked his lips and leaned back in the chair. “Well, didn’t you say the killer calls his victims? So, unless you’re a ghost, you should have been far away from whatever happened.”
“You two don’t understand!” you screeched, not caring if a few people turned their heads toward you. “He called me. I had to listen to-to—” Bile burned up your throat as you slapped two hands over your mouth in case it decided to spew between your teeth.
“Jeez,” Robby muttered as he dragged a hand down his jaw. “You had to listen to him getting . . . ya’ know.”
“Murdered,” Jack filled in casually, like he wasn’t concerned at all about what you’d just confessed. Although, he did do a good job at looking a bit surprised. “But why would he call you?”
“I don’t know,” you whimpered, arms coming to wrap around your middle as you hunched in on yourself. “One minute, I thought I was talking to Robby, and the next I thought it might be Stephen because of the pencil incident, but then I tried to hang up again, and . . .” you trailed off right as you remembered what the distorted voice had told you.
“And what?” Jack pressed.
“He said if I hung up and didn’t play his game, he’d kill you two.”
From the corner of his eye, Jack looked over at Robby for the briefest moment before scooting his chair closer to you to wrap you in a hug. Your pliant, shivering body went willingly right into his embrace, and he couldn’t help the smirk that stretched onto his face.
Everything was going to plan better than they had expected. Sure, calling you hadn’t been their first line of action, but looking at you now, so scared, so terrified that they were in danger, made them feel like they should have called you first. Robby initially had been the one who wanted to call and hear your panicked little whimpers, but he’d been the last caller. At least Jack had the decency to record everything, and Robby didn’t remember the last time they had both cum so hard while fucking as they played your delicious sounding cries, its echos joining the perfect symphony of their moans. It was almost as good as having you there with them, but they had to get you willing.
And right now, you seemed on the verge of being just that. They’d planted the seed of doubt in your mind that they weren’t untouchable, that they might be the next victims.
Jack ran a hand up and down your back in soothing motions, and you pressed into his chest, eyes meeting Robby’s worried-looking brown hues across the table.
“Did you already give your statement?” he asked.
“Yeah; last night,” you sighed. “My roommate found me crying, and she was the one to call. Everything happened so quickly.”
Jack pressed his cheek into the top of your head. “Did you recognize the voice?”
“No. It was all distorted.” You tensed suddenly. “But he did say something weird.”
Robby eyed Jack wearily. “Yeah?”
You nodded. “He said that Stephen would be missed in class, but—I mean, wouldn’t that imply that the killer was in the same class as us?”
Jack mouthed a quiet fuck and closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to say that; he needed himself as far from the scene and victim as possible. Robby normally got away with it since he was supposed to be three hours away while Jack made sure his alibi of being in his dorm room stayed air-tight.
“Did you tell that to the police?”
The corner of your lip turned downward. “I-I think? I don’t know; I can’t remember.” Your words started to slur into a whine, and a single tear slipped down your cheek in frustration.
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Jack cooed, hand never stopping in soothing circles while he held you. “Tell you what. Why don’t you and I go down to the station after class if you’re feeling up to it.”
Your stomach gurgled at the thought of having to retell what you went through for the sake of adding one more detail, and you swallowed thickly even if your mouth had gone dry.
“I don’t think I want to go to class. Seeing the empty seat . . .” If you thought about it for long enough, you knew you’d start crying all over again. “Can we just stay here? Or go to the fountain outside?” You’d been looking at Robby, but you pulled back from Jack enough to look him in the face. However, when neither of them answered right away, your stomach sank. “Oh.”
Robby cupped a hand at his neck, a familiar thing you’d seen him do for a year straight when he got stressed or nervous.
“Jack and I promised that we’d help out with an advanced simulator today for the fourth year students after you two’s first lecture.”
That was utter bullshit; they hadn’t been asked at all, but they needed to get away from you for a couple of hours to really let you sink into helplessness and paranoia. The longer you went without them with the thought that any moment they might be stabbed and sliced, the more you’d run into their willing arms no matter how they decided to break the news about their late-night activities.
You pulled fully out of Jack’s embrace, and the freckled boy had to stop himself from bringing you right back in, hands already itching to grab onto your arms. But he pulled himself together; he would have all night with you once they got you right where they wanted.
“Will I at least see you both before Robby has to go back tonight?” you asked, finger going back to pick at your thumb, face wincing when a spark of pain shot up your digit. You looked down in time to see blood well under the flap of skin.
“Of course. I’ll be at Jack’s dorm after I finish up with the final night class,” Robby said and finally smiled. He leaned over and softly pinched your cheek. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to my favorite girl.”
A rush of pleasure crept up to his chest at the sight of your heated cheeks, and somehow, evening couldn't come soon enough. After you stood and left, probably headed toward your dorm to try to get some sleep, Jack turned towards Robby with a flick of his head.
“Tonight?” he asked, lips stretching into a wide smirk.
Robby didn’t even look his way, eyes still planted on your figure. “Tonight.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Three raps of your knuckles against the wood door and a muffled Come in! from Jack had you pushing the creaky thing open and stepping right into his dorm. You eyed the small piles of clothes that you tried not to step on as you made your way toward his bed. Jack was leaned back against his headboard with a sleepy look on his face and pajamas on his body: a pair of much-too big sweats (that you guessed probably belonged to Robby) and that fucking Army crewneck.
“Would it kill you to clean once in a while?” you asked while taking a seat right at the edge of the mattress.
“There’s a system to it. Left side of the room is for clean clothes, and the right is for dirty,” he responded with a shit-eating smirk.
You rolled your eyes and turned to face him as much as you could without lying stomach down on the bed. “You’re such a boy.”
“At least my room’s not dripping in makeup,” he shot back, face scrunching in disgust. “It’s almost like I can smell it from here.”
“No, that’s your hairspray.” You reached out to ruffle his curls, but his hand darted out and wrapped around your wrist before it could get any further.
Jack pulled slightly, and you followed, knees digging into the comforter so he could bring you closer. “You know better than to touch the curls.”
“Then don’t make fun of my makeup,” you muttered before ripping your hand out of his hold. Using your hands, you pushed yourself further up the bed and mirrored Jack with your shoulder against his and back against the headboard. “How’d that simulator thing go?”
His lip curled. “As well as it could be. Fuck, I hope we’re not going to turn out to be like those stuck up know-it-all assholes. They think they know every damn answer.”
You nudged him slightly. “As long as we study and actually know the answers, we can act as asshole-y as we want to.”
He ran a hand through his hair and scoffed. “That’s the thing. We asked the question for the mock-up ER, and one of the guys in there—total douche—didn’t even know the protocol for hyperkalemia.”
“It’s potassium instead of calcium,” you rattled off mindlessly before pausing.
Jack turned slightly. “Yeah. How the fuck did you know that?”
Your eyes locked onto your feet. “It-it was one the question I got wrong before Stephen—” Your mouth quivered. “Fuck, it’s all my fault.”
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true, Jack,” you muttered. “I killed him.” Panic began to lick at the edges of your mind, and your chest started heaving in pants. “I killed him. I killed him.”
Jack pushed up off the headboard and hovered halfway over, hands raising like he didn’t know where he could touch you without sending you over the edge. “You gotta breathe, or you’re going to pass out on me.”
His words were like he was talking underwater, and you couldn’t even process what he was telling you to do. This was not a part of their plan, but Jack had to make due with what he could before Robby got back from killing one more student, a guy who had looked at you way too long in your pharmacology class. Before he could really think things through, Jack cupped your face, leaned in, and kissed you deeply.
The feeling of his lips broke you out of whatever hysteria threatened to take over, and you found yourself mimicking his movements as you kissed him back, lips moving against the other while your hands found purchase in his crewneck. Your eyes fluttered shut before snapping back open when Robby popped in your mind. You pulled back instantly and wiped your lips as though that would get rid of what just happened.
Jack took in your debauched look, you clearly liking that he kissed you, but the worried look you had sent his heart racing the wrong way.
Had they read you wrong the entire time?
“Jack,” you breathed. “We can’t.”
He cocked his head. “Why can’t we?”
“Robby.”
“What about him, sweetheart.”
You looked at him earnestly. “Aren’t you two . . .” You left words unsaid in case you were the one to get this wrong.
Jack almost looked bashful as he replied. “You’re always too damn smart. Catching onto things before we could even tell you.” He leaned back in though and pressed another kiss to the side of your mouth. “We are . . . together, but—” He dragged his eyes over your body with a heated look. “But we want you too.”
His words had you blinking rapidly. “What?” you laughed out, but one look from him said that he wasn’t joking around. “Are-are you serious?”
He clicked his tongue against his cheek. “Deadly.”
You weren’t too sure who moved first, but you met his mouth once more halfway. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his lips and teeth mushing against yours. His hands rose and planted on your hips, fingers curling into the small pudge against bone and pulling you into him, hips dragging along the blankets until you were seated on his lap. Your knees dug into the mattress on both sides of his thick thighs as you held onto his face.
Jack shivered with glee at the feeling of your grinding weight on top of him, cock already stiff below Robby’s pair of sweatpants hugging his legs. He bucked up slightly into your dampening core, and your jaw dropped enough for him to slide his wet tongue right into your hot mouth. He languidly licked around your teeth before playing with the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t help but think that if he was this into your mouth, you wanted to imagine what it’d feel like against your clit. At the vivid picture popping into your imagination, you ground down harder against his bulge.
Jack being large wasn’t surprising; not with the amount of tight pants he liked to wear, but you never imagined yourself being able to feel it nestled against your clit through your thin pajamas. As you continued to rock back and forth, he let go in order to play with the hem of your shirt before lifting it over your head and tossing it to the ground. His eyes widened slightly when he realized you’d foregone the bra.
“Fuck,” he muttered after pulling back to really look at them, hands rising to cup your breasts.
With his pointer fingers and thumbs, he pinched your nipples into soft peaks, drawing a higher-pitched whine from behind your teeth. By now, your underwear were soaked with slick arousal. Without warning, he leaned in right as your back arched and took one bud into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed, and a loud sucking noise squeaked out of his lips. You jerked at the feeling and sank your hands into his hair.
“Jack,” you breathily sighed.
“That’s me, sweetheart,” he retorted after letting your nipple go with a wet pop just to do the same to your other one.
You normally weren’t one to cum just from stimulation to your breasts, but the hazy feeling from grinding on Jack’s cock and his lips and tongue circling your nipples started to well in your stomach. Your jaw dropped again as a loud moan shuddered out of you after he bit down on the sensitive peak before running a soothing, wet stripe over it. He pulled back again to lightly blow on the heated flesh, and his cooled breath made goosebumps race up your skin.
He dropped a hand to play with the waistline of shorts, and you lifted your hips to allow him to get your sleep shorts and underwear off in one go. They quickly joined your shirt at the floor, and his hand had just started to trail between your thighs when his bedside phone gave off a loud shrill into the air. Jack acted as though he didn’t hear it, lips still suckling away at your chest.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” you panted between the grinds of your hips.
“Just let it ring,” he responded, but the sound had already ripped your attention away from between your legs.
With a smile, you reached over and picked up the phone, mind too full with pleasure to even think of the last time you picked up a phone without knowing who was on the other line. Really, you should have been more careful, but with Jack under your naked body, all caution was out the window.
“Jack’s busy right now,” you giggled into the phone, “but I can give him a message—”
“Hi, baby.”
Your hips stilled, and your blood froze at the sound of the distorted voice. A dizzying feeling replaced the warmth of pleasure in your system, and you could barely get out a response that wasn’t a small, terrified noise.
“Has Jack left you that speechless already?” he continued, voice sounding louder than it had last night over the phone. If you really thought about it, it felt as though he was right next to your ear. “Go on, baby. You were looking so pretty getting messy over him. I was really enjoying the show,” he growled, voice suddenly right over your shoulder instead of through the speaker.
You dropped the phone and whipped around right off Jack’s lap, and panic seized your chest, because right by the door, a tall man draped in black fabric and a hollowed-eyed white mask stared back at you. You started to scramble as a small scream ripped up your throat, but Jack was quicker. He grabbed your hips and brought you back to this lap, this time facing the masked intruder. His arms wrapped around your middle and held you through your struggles and tears.
“Jack, what the fuck!” you sobbed, hands wrenching and nails scratching at his arms. “Let me go! We’re going to die! Let me go, please!”
Instead of doing what you demanded, Jack tucked his chin onto your shoulder as the man started stalking toward the bed. With each step, your struggles grew. By now, Jack’s arms were littered with bleeding stripes from your desperation to get away, but that only added to his pleasure, cock never failing to fade into softness against your back. Your chest heaved and tightened the closer the man got before he stopped at the foot of the bed.
You watched with wide eyes as he raised a small box to where his lips would be under the mask before his empty gloved hand suddenly lifted the stretched-chin until the mask slipped from his face, and Robby’s dark brown eyes locked on yours.
His lips curled into a devilish smirk. “Surprise, baby.”
For a split second, you thought you’d pass out, suddenly overwhelmed with everything in a dizzy sensation.
“What?” you sputtered.
Jack hummed over your shoulder and ran a finger down your tear-streaked cheek. He pouted when you met his eye from the corner of yours.
“Aw, sweets, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Not enjoying our little surprise?” he taunted before a chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Awww, Mikey, look at her. The poor thing’s shaking.”
Robby let the voice modulator fall to the floor with a dulled thunk that kept your heart racing against your ribcage. In a desperate attempt to keep a distance between you and Robby, you tried to fling yourself to the side, but Jack just tightened his arms around you more.
“Not so fast,” he said. “Not when we haven’t gotten to the best part yet.” One arm let go so his hand could grip your chin to keep you facing Robby. “Go on and spread her legs for me.”
Without hesitation, Robby kneeled at the edge of the mattress and crawled until he reached where your feet planted against the comforter. His brown eyes, the hues almost black with lust, watched you intently as he placed his gloved hands on your naked knees. Yet, when he tried to part them, you swung a foot and connected it right between his legs, drawing a grunt from deep in his lungs.
He shuddered, his hand reaching down to palm himself over the long black robes he wore. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he fought to get air back in his lungs. As his hand pressed down harder, he groaned, looking up at you through his eyelashes. The inky blackness of his pupils swallowed the brown of his irises entirely.
The motherfucker liked that.
Jack’s hand slid down from your jaw and wrapped around the front of your throat, and his fingers squeezed lightly against the sides of your neck, sending a fuzzy wave to your brain, and your breath hitched, body stilling in his grasp. His lips softly grazed your ear as he whispered, “Be a good girl and stay still for us. You’ll like it, I promise.”
He jerked his chin out towards Robby, and you could only watch him finally grip your knees. In one fluid motion, he wrenched your legs apart, revealing your glistening cunt to both of them. Robby hummed lowly in amusement.
“You’re so wet for us, baby,” he mused and lowered his face until he was inches away from your core.
An embarrassed heat flooded your face and neck when he inhaled sharply. If you bucked your hips to get him to move back, you’d just shove his nose right into your folds, and if you withdrew them, you’d grind right into Jack’s cock. You were stuck, and neither seemed to be concerned with how you felt.
“Please let me go,” you pleaded with a whimper and squeezed-shut eyes. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Jack tutted against your ear. “It’s not that we don’t believe you, sweets, but . . .”
“We’ve already waited this long to have you like this,” Robby finished his sentence, finally pulling back from between your legs to look down at you as he ripped the gloves off. “We can’t let you go after we’ve worked so hard to get you right where we want.”
“You fucking murdered people,” you spat, body beginning to shift unconsciously as a result of your fear . . . or something closer to simmering arousal that you didn’t even want to admit to. “And now you think I’m just going to sit here and enjoy this?”
“Well, yeah,” Jack smacked his lips. “Cause even though you’re putting on a big show of being brave even if you’re terrified—” He reached down and ran a fingertip through your cunt from hole to clit before holding it up to the light to show just how wet it was. “Your body is still begging for us.”
You shivered against him. “It’s not—I’m not begging.”
Jack sighed loudly. “That’s okay; we know you will once we get started.” His hazel eyes met Robby’s gaze. “Go right ahead, Mikey.”
“Robby, please don’t,” you whispered as he leaned back down, bare fingers coming to grip at the soft insides of your thighs. “Don’t do this. I—”
You bit down on your lip to stifle the first moan that threatened to burst out as Robby’s tongue began to lick at your puffy folds, fingers curling into Jack’s freckled forearms and thighs jolting at the feeling. He held them down. His tongue moved inward and stiffened into a point to drag upward to your throbbing clit, the texture of his tastebuds adding to the buzzy stimulation. He toyed with you, going from circular motions to biting down gently with his front teeth. As he tilted his face to get a better angle, his beard rubbed against your inner thighs, and the scratchiness of it added to the burning pleasure from your core.
If he continued, he’d leave a lasting reminder of beard burn for you to remember this night.
Above, you refused to look down at him, lip staying between your teeth as he tried to break you. Jack was having none of it, and the hand around your throat pressed harder into your pulse points, cutting off your circulation to flood your brain with a hazy feeling that made the pleasure from Robby’s ministrations grow tenfold.
It was only when he licked around your sopping entrance that a keel ripped from your throat, and the sound was like music to their ears.
“Good job, sweetheart,” Jack muttered as he let go to allow oxygen to rush back in. “That’s what we want to hear. Keep going, Mikey. I wanna hear more.”
“Just keep her steady,” Robby responded against you, and his words sent vibrations tingling through your cunt, drawing out another heady moan. He continued to go back and forth from your clit to your hole before the first finger breached the tight entrance. “Oh, fuck, she’s tight,” he groaned, cock throbbing as he imagined sinking deep into you.
“Yeah?” Jack breathed. “Saved yourself just for us, sweets?”
“No,” you moaned out, hips slightly rocking to alleviate the stretch. “Nooooo shit!”
Robby sucked your clit as he began to pump his finger in and out, your innermost muscles clenching in uncontrollable spasms around the digit. Slowly, he felt you begin to loosen and suck him back in. Your head tilted back against Jack’s shoulder when he curled his finger upward, expertly finding your soft spot. Your back arched, and your hips raised into Robby’s face, making his nose catch against your clit.
A wave of pleasure washed over you. Your once tense muscles had relaxed as endorphins fought to replace your terror, leaving you close to putty and pliant between them. Your legs widened instinctively when Robby added a second finger.
“Oh—fuck!” you wailed out when both fingertips rubbed along your walls, slick gushing out with each thrust. “Robby!”
“There we go,” Jack gleefully said, voice filled with nothing but content as he felt your body drape against him, all fight draining the closer they got you to cumming. “I told you that you were going to like it.”
Somehow, Robby managed to get his fingers to reach further, and stars dotted your vision by how deep you could feel him. You didn’t want to imagine how deeper he could get with his cock—wait.
You were giving in. You couldn’t; this was wrong. They killed people. You needed to get away fast.
“Robby!” you parroted and followed with a moan as your lower belly simmered with something that was about to snap. “Gonna cum! Wanna cum!”
Finally, you looked downward and met his lidded gaze through his eyebrows, lower face hidden behind your soft mound as he continued to lick and suck and graze your bundle of nerves with his teeth. He was close to sending you right over the edge, but there was one thing they both wanted to hear.
They wanted you to beg for it.
Jack finally unwrapped his arms from your middle to start palming at your breasts again. “C’mon, sweets. Mikey’ll make you cum, but you need to ask nicely for it first. Just say the magic words and—” He pinched and pulled and twisted your nipples, and a cry ripped right out of you, “—he’ll give it to you.”
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, and somewhere deep, the need to push back flickered before being doused with a rush of arousal. Robby added a third finger and quickened his thrusts, causing a squelching noise to fill the room.
Finally, after feeling the heat about to boil over in your core, you whimpered out the smallest, “Please.”
Robby groaned against you, and bit down hard on your clit while curling upwards with stiff fingers. You came instantly, walls clenching rhythmically while Robby kept his pace steady to draw out your high for as long as possible. He watched the way your thighs shook and the way your arched beautifully, stomach curved out high as Jack continued to pull and grab at your breasts.
You all but collapsed back against Jack’s chest when Robby finally pulled away, your sticky arousal coating his lips and chin and also the three fingers that he stuck in his mouth. He held eye contact with you as he swirled his tongue between the slots. Jack huffed behind you.
“I want a taste,” he demanded, and Robby quickly leaned over you, robes draping across your heaving chest, and kissed Jack.
The loud slurping noises coming from over your head made you groan when your hole clenched around nothing.
“Tastes good,” Jack muttered before licking across Robby’s lips. “Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart,” he addressed you even if he was currently occupied. He bit down, and Robby whined as a metallic tang filled their shared saliva.
You lied there, and for a moment, your mind caught up to the situation at hand. Robby and Jack were the murderer—murderers? One to make the call, and the other to kill the student. Through the initial shockwaves of your orgasm, your stomach dipped, and you pushed up slightly, hoping they were both too into the other to miss the way you tried to inch across the bed. Jack pulled away suddenly and reached across, hands planting on both sides of your hips. Air rushed from your lungs at the sheer amount of his strength as he flipped you in one fluid motion and put you on your stomach.
“No, fuck you,” you whined against the covers. “I’ve never—”
Jack’s hands maneuvered you like a personal doll: knees pushing into the mattress and hips high in the air. He used his knees to knock yours wider to fit behind. You tried to push up on two hands, but he sent you right back down with a strong enough push between your shoulder blades. He held you down and pulled down the waistline of his sweatpants just enough to pull his cock out, lips parting in a hiss at the cold air enveloping his heated flesh. He sighed when he got a hand around himself, and the tip spurted out a line of precum. He used his palm to spread it across his length before he notched it at your entrance.
Your body tensed at just the feeling of the large head already barely fitting even if Robby had managed to get three fingers in you.
“Wait,” you said and gripped the comforter. “No, no, please wait, please, Jack, I’m a virgin, wait—”
As though your pleas fell on deaf ears, Jack slowly started to sink into you. He shuddered when your warmth sucked in the first inch like your cunt needed him even if you thought you didn’t.
“Fuck, sweets,” he hissed. “Robby said you were tight, but fucking—can’t believe I get to be your first.”
You gasped at the stretch and intrusion, and he kept feeding himself into you even after the first bit of resistance. You’d mold perfectly around him soon enough. Your inner thighs shook and tensed as he pushed in further, and sweat collected at your brow line as your body heated under the pressure. You shut your eyes tight, but that only made it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feeling of Jack’s massive cock bullying its way into you.
Jack pulled back slightly, and the drag of the head along your walls had you gasping for air.
“Too much for you?” Jack cooed as your whimpers hit his ears. “Shhhh, it’s okay, sweetheart, you can take it; I know you can.” He slowly pushed back in. “Take a deep breath for me, yeah? Big streeetch,” he drew out until the entirety of his length sat inside you.
Your chest heaved as much as it could into the mattress, and your jaw dropped to take in lungfuls of air. You felt too full, like one wrong move and Jack would rip you in half. It only got worse when he started to thrust, and his tip started tapping against your cervix with no more room to push into.
“J-Jack, f-fuck,” you stuttered, and tears once again streamed down your cheeks. “Please—fuck!”
He rocked his hips against yours to the point that his balls slapped against your ass with every thrust. “You feel how deep I am inside you?” he grunted while his hands tightened around your hips. “Fucking taking all of me. Such a needy girl for my cock.”
You bit down on the comforter, muffling your whines in an attempt to keep how much he was affecting you to yourself.
“Oh, sweets, that won’t do,” Jack tutted and sank a hand into your roots, fingers curling around the strands and yanking your head upward with a yelp. Your hands scrambled to get under you to relieve some of the pressure, but Jack didn’t stop thrusting, and the motion had your breasts swinging in the air. “Mikey, give her mouth something to do.”
You eyes widened because under Jack’s fucking, you somehow completely forgot about Robby. But now as he shrugged off the robe and unbuckled his pants to get his cock out, you started sobbing once more.
“Please don’t do this. I loved you two,” you weakly confessed, mind warring against your needy body, but all that did was make Jack angle his hips on an upward thrust to hit that spot that made you wail.
Robby fisted his cock while he raised your chin up, and his eyes softened for a split second. “You’ll just have to learn to love this version of us, baby, because we love you just like this.”
His words hit you in the pit of your stomach, and suddenly his words broke something inside you.
This was Jack and Robby, your two best friends who’d do anything for you. You couldn’t keep fighting against them if you tried.
Your jaw chomped shut hard enough that your teeth clicked together, but both of them were one step ahead. Jack let go of your hair and snaked a hand between your thighs to start circling his fingertips against your clit as he continued to fuck into you at a slowed pace, really wanting to draw this all out.
You couldn’t help the moan that flowed freely at the double stimulation attacking your cunt, and your jaw unhinged enough to let Robby slip the tip of his cock between your teeth. Instantly, the salty tang of his precum coated your mouth. He held the sides of your face and pushed in deeper.
“Another deep breath, baby,” he groaned before he thrust into your mouth, giving you barely any warning to brace for his cock to fill your mouth.
Your throat constricted in a gag, but a flick of Jack’s fingers around your bud paired with a harsh thrust pushed you forward until your nose right into Robby’s navel, his wiry happy trail filling your senses with his deep musky scent. Above you, Robby arched into the feeling and groaned into the air. You were now filled on both ends as you desperately tried to breathe in through your mouth.
Robby’s cock nestled against your tongue and a few inches down your throat. He was definitely longer than Jack, but the redhead had a much thicker girth than the brunette. Jack planted both his hands on your shoulders and pulled you back until Robby almost slipped right out. You sputtered and coughed from the lack of air, and a string of saliva wiggled down from your mouth to the bed.
In just a breath later, they resumed, and you moved upwards and backwards on them like a pig on a spit. You felt dizzy between the white-hot pleasure Jack gave your cunt and the fuzziness that took over when Robby slipped down your throat. Both men moaned and grunted when you seemed to clench down on them at the same time.
“Fuck, you weren’t kidding when you said she was—shit—so fucking tight,” Jack moaned when your walls spasmed around him, nearly cumming from the feeling. “You any close, sweets? Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” His words went straight to your body, and your pussy tightened. “Oh, you like when I talk to you? Is that right?”
You whined in response and nodded. .
His fingers picked up against your throbbing clit to meet his thrusts, and your stomach flipped with the onslaught of never-ending ecstasy flowing through your lower half. He could tell you were close when you started leaking around him, inner thighs sticky and wet enough to transfer onto his when he pushed into you with wet plap, plap, plap, plaps.
At your front, Robby continued lazily thrusting into your mouth with jerky motions, knowing that once Jack filled you, he’d have his turn to sink deep into your pussy. His head leaned back when he managed to make you gag, and your throat constricted and caught his tip. His large hand basically covered the back of your head. He kept you tucked against his navel even when you tried to jolt back to get more air. His soul thrummed at your panic, and he wondered if you could feel him get harder between your teeth.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh,” sputtered around Robby with every draw and snap of Jack’s hips.
“Just give in, sweetheart,” Jack whispered into your ear after slotting his stomach into the dip of your back. “Let us know that we’re making you feel so good.” Using two fingers, he pinched at your clit just as his hips began to stutter, a tell-tail sign that he was about to cum as well. “Fucking—shit—give it to me.”
With a muffled cry, your body shook as your second orgasm ripped right through your body. Jack could barely fuck into you with how hard you were clamping down on him as your cunt wept and dribbled onto the bed.
“Good—fucking—girl,” he punched out with three forceful thrusts. His hands planted back onto your hips, and his fingers curled white-knuckled into the skin so hard that you knew you’d have his fingerprints bruised into you by morning. His lower stomach pulsed when you began to whimper from overstimulation, and the sound had his cock throbbing. “Fuck, gonna fill you up, sweets. Gonna cum, gonna—fucking shit!”
He thrusted hard once, twice, three times before he stilled, cock spurting release into your fluttering hole. He had squeezed his eyes shut, but he peaked through his eyelids to see Robby lean over with a hand between your legs. The air knocked right out of Jack’s lungs when your cunt clamped down on him again near the end, and he guessed that Robby had rubbed right against your clit. Jack’s chest heaved through his high.
“Good job, sweetheart,” he muttered, giving little rocks of his hips to prolong his own pleasure, dick already softening just a bit. “You took me so well; so well.”
His hands loosened from your shoulders, and without any strength left in your wobbly arms, you fell right back into the bed, body twitching in the aftershocks. A whimper climbed from deep in your chest when he finally pulled out. Your hole clenched and pushed out a thick glob of the mix of your rapidly cooling slick and his cum from your walls.
You felt his finger drag along your folds to catch it just to push the mess right back in, drawing a mewl from your lips. Too tired and fucked out to care about what they did next, you let your hips lower until they rested against the bed. You heard some shuffling through the haze, and the next moment, your body flipped over. Each of your limbs tingled with warmth, and you let out the smallest giggle.
You enjoyed that more than you’d ever admit to it.
“What’s so funny, baby?” Robby asked as he took off the rest of his clothes just as Jack was taking off his crewneck but leaving his sweats still on.
Your eyes fluttered shut. “Think it’s funny that you said you loved me, but you killed people,” you slurred.
Jack and Robby shared a look before the taller took his place near your feet.
“Stephen deserved it, baby,” Robby darkly muttered. “And all those boys who came before him.”
Jack ran a soothing hand up and down your leg. “You’re our girl. We couldn’t let them live after how they acted towards you.”
Like he did earlier, Robby parted your legs, leaning down for half a heartbeat to press a small kiss to your twitching clit before trailing open-mouthed kissed up your stomach until he reached your lips. As though all fight drained out of you with the last climax, you matched his advances and kissed him back, legs absentmindedly parting to let him hover over you.
You were the one to break the kiss when he rutted his cock through your sopping, overly-sentivie folds. Your breath hitched high in your throat before breaking to give way to a shuddering moan. You tried to push him off, but his lips stayed glued to your neck.
He reached down and positioned his cock head to your entrance, and he slipped in with no resistance, the added lubrication of Jack’s spend and your relaxed muscles adding to his eased thrusting. The back of your head pushed deep into the mattress, and you swore you could feel Robby all the way up into your throat. Through lidded eyes, you caught the sight of Jack already hard again in his hand, his hazel eyes watching intently as Robby started to fuck you.
“Hnnngggg,” you moaned through your teeth. Robby’s tip hit your cervix with each forward movement. “Oh my—fucking—please, Robby!”
“Only took two orgasms to get you begging, hm?” Jack asked, and he reached over to pet at your face while simultaneously fucking up into his hand. His fingers traced your lips before he plunged them into your mouth. His breath stuttered when you started softly sucking on his digits.
“Whatever you’re doing up there,” Robby grunted, hips snapping into the heat of your walls, “she likes it. Her cunt’s clenching—shit—around me like a fucking vice, man.”
Your high-pitched whine came out all muffled through Jack’s fingers. Without someone holding your hips down, you began to meet Robby’s thrusts in shallow grinds. Where Jack’s cock stretched you out to the point of bliss, you wanted Robby’s length to stay buried deep to constantly rub against your walls. He must have understood what you wanted, because he stopped with the full thrusts and ground against your hips. The thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbed deliciously against your swollen clit, and you whined at the added stimulation.
After having climaxed twice so fast, it didn’t take long before you started to writhe under Robby’s frame, close to cumming without needing much.
“Gonna—” You gagged when Jack pushed his fingers in farther. “Gonna,” you warbled.
“Gonna cum already for us, baby?” Robby grunted. “Well, when you do, I wanna hear you cry my name, okay? Want your pretty mouth to spit it out.”
You nodded shakily and tried to respond, but Jack’s fingers were too deep for anything eligible to come out. After thrusting them a bit more and getting them slick with your saliva, Jack pulled them out of your mouth. You squealed loudly when his fingers rubbed between your clit and where Robby was rutting into you.
“Ooohhhh,” you breathed. “Jack! Feels good!”
“Yeah? Does it feel better when I do this?” Suddenly, the pressure inside your walls exploded as Jack nudged his pointer finger into your hole, digit brushing against Robby’s cock to make you feel fuller than you ever had. “I bet that feels really good for you, sweetheart. Got your hole all nice and filled to the brim.”
He tried to angle his wrist as best he could to press upward, and your thighs tried to close around his hand, but Robby’s hips kept them spread wide open. Needing to alleviate the pressure, you dug your feet into Robby’s lower back and arched into his chest. In one more movement to grind against Jack’s hand and Robby’s cock, you came instantly in a soundless scream.
Robby folded over as your walls suddenly clamped down on him without warning. Your chest shook in a deep sob as the pleasure almost became too much. But through the shivers and pinpricks of euphoria, you remembered what Robby had asked.
“Michael!” you screamed, hips jolting uncontrollably against him. “Micahel! Michael!”
Like some Pavlovian effect, Robby groaned loudly with stuttering hips, cock spurting with hot waves of cum deep inside and fusing his and Jack’s cum to your cunt. No matter who you else might fuck in life, they’d always know that their cum was in you first.
“Such a good baby,” Robby spat, mind barely keeping up with the feeling of your warmth entrapping his cock. “So smart for remembering. Fucking love it when you say my name. Fucking love you.”
Your eyes had squeezed shut yet again right before you felt splatters across your face and heard a plethora of curses and moans from Jack above you. Some of his cum painted across your eyes, and you could only lie there and take his spend to your face.
For a moment, you ceased to exist on the bed, mind floating blissfully somewhere else as you stewed in the slowing waves of your probably final orgasm. It wasn’t until you felt a warm, wet towel against your face did you open your eyes again. You blinked rapidly to clear them of the gloss that had taken over, and Jack cooed softly as he wiped his drying cum from your cheeks.
“There she is,” he whispered. “There’s our girl. You did so well for us, sweetheart. Can’t believe we got to finally do this with the girl we love.”
There it was again: their declarations of love.
You wondered if it was all a ploy, but with their soft touches and slow roll of your pliant body to settle between them as sleep licked at your body, something settled inside your chest. Sure, they’d killed people, but they’d been right about what they said. Stephen deserved it, deserved what they did to him along with all the other boys who’d made you uncomfortable before meeting their ultimate demise.
They’d done it all for you . . . because they loved you.
Your lip twitched into a soft smile as you relaxed into the blanket Jack tossed over the three of you.
“I love you both, too.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Morning light was the first thing to cause your closed eyelids to glow as your body slowly woke up. Instead of gently being lolled from your sleep, you became instantly aware of where you were and more importantly who you were between. Sometime after falling asleep, you’d managed to tuck yourself under Robby’s chin while Jack clung to your back, their shared heat making the bed feel like a furnace. You shifted. One leg slipping from between Jack’s, and your hips tilting away from Robby’s.
Yet, you’d barely moved a few inches when Jack was the second to wake up. He muttered something sleepily before tightening his arms around your middle.
“Don’t go,” he slurred, voice still thick with sleep.
“I need to pee,” you whispered back, but all you really wanted was to retreat to the bathroom to wrap your mind around what had happened last night: their confessions, them fucking you, you confessing your love for both of them. If you stayed any longer, the dream of last night might become reality, and you weren’t ready to face the possibility that you might become their next victim.
Robby shuffled slightly at your front and nuzzled his cheek into the top of your head. “Pee here. Pretty sure Jack’s into that,” he sighed, almost like he was seconds away from falling back asleep, however, his eyes shot open when Jack whacked him in the face with a spare pillow.
“I don’t have a piss kink,” the redhead groaned, not even opening his hazel eyes. “I just think it’s hot.”
“Then it constitutes as a piss kink, kid.”
Jack pushed up with one arm while rapidly blinking the sleep away. “Can we not kink shame your boyfriend, please? We get one morning with her between us, and you start spouting bullshit nonsense.”
“Guys,” you whined. “Enough.” Your head tilted down until your forehead connected with Robby’s chest. “Let’s just get this all over with.”
Jack paused with another pillow mid-way in the air, fingers letting go to let it drop down to the bed. He slightly curled around your shoulder and tried to meet your eye. “Get over with what?”
Robby twirled a piece of your hair around a finger. “What’s going on in that head, baby?”
“I already know what will happen next. You’re going to tell me that last night was a fluke, and I’m about to show up on the news as another dead body,” you spat. “So, please, make it painless and get on with it.”
Over your head, Robby and Jack shared a look of concern before Jack plastered himself along your back.
“No, sweetheart, no,” he cooed. “That’s like the exact opposite of what’s going to happen. We weren’t lying when we said we loved you.”
You shook your head and closed your eyes. You didn’t believe them. How could you after all they’ve done?
“Listen, baby,” Robby started as he pushed back to make you look at him, “Jack and I love you so much, and the thought of us never being able to have you pushed us over the edge. It’s like an itch we can’t scratch unless we get rid of the problems.”
“And the problems were all those boys who either thought they had a chance or made you uncomfortable by thinking you wanted them back,” Jack growled, and the noise went right to your core. “We fucking love you so much, and it was agony to see them hurt you, so we hurt them in return—like, take them out entirely.”
“No one messes with you unless they want to mess with us,” Robby stated. “But we’d never hurt you, baby. I think we’d both rather kill the other if we ever did.”
They both waited in silence for you to answer, and for a moment, they thought that you were able to push away, grab your clothes, and run out the door with how heavy you were breathing. But then, they both noticed the way your thighs shifted together, and it dawned on them that you were into this—them killing men just for you.
“You really mean that?” you finally asked, voice meek and scared for them to laugh and yell psych!
“We’d let you kill us if we didn’t, sweetheart” Jack said, voice steady and strong. “Our hearts beat only for the other and you.” He placed a kiss on your bare shoulder before lightly biting into your skin.
Robby inhaled sharply. “We’ll stop . . . if you want us to. No more games, no more murders—”
“Unless you want us to,” Jack added. “Say the word, and you’ll have a heart on a platter if you wish.”
A loud groan rumbled through your chest, and your hips jutted back against Jack’s front. “You two can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” Robby asked, and you could hear the smirk in his words.
“Becasuse—” You squeaked when Jack suddenly palmed at your breasts under the covers. “Because it makes me feel . . .”
“Good?” Jack filled in, but you shook your head.
“Loved. It makes me feel loved, and it’s fucking crazy to say that, because you’re willing to murder people if I ask for it.”
Your thighs parted when you felt Robby try to prod between them, and a lazy sigh exhaled from your lips as he slowly started to circle your clit through your puffy folds that were still slick from last night’s activities.
“We’re willing to do a lot more than murder,” he muttered, lips pressing into every inch of your face. “But we have you now, and unless anyone thinks they can get through us, we won’t need to put any more bodies in the ground.”
“Promise?” you asked with a pant catching the end of the word.
“Promise,” Jack grunted, hips bucking into your ass.
“Promise,” Robby echoed.
“Okay, okay,” you said. “I was also telling the truth when I said that I loved you both. Just wanting to make it clear that this goes both ways.”
“Good,” Jack said as he placed two hands on both sides of your hips. “Now, flip on your front. I wanna feel your cunt cum on my cock again.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ ·
Night was not the best place to be hanging around a parking lot in the middle of Pittsburgh. Unfortunately for Brendon Park, he found himself doing just that around an hour after his shift ended at 9 pm, eyes narrowed at his slashed tires on his brand new Porsche. Someone had done this, and all he needed to do was wait for the stupid tow truck and security officer to come help him out. He could have left it for the morning and gotten an uber, but Park was a proud man.
And yet, what did they say about pride? It commeth before the downfall.
He was so busy huffing and puffing while stalking back and forth along his car that he failed to hear the twin footsteps rapidly approaching behind him. He didn’t even know he wasn’t alone until a white-hot pain in his side froze him in his tracks. His torso twisted, but that just dug the scalpel in deeper. He stumbled to get away, but all he was met with was another parallel stab to his other side.
Automatically, Park applied pressure over the blood already soaking through his scrub top. He looked down and hissed before looking for his assailant. He squinted into the dark, and his breath hitched when twin robed figures stepped out into the small bit of light coming from a close to burning out lamp. It was almost like the two were from a slasher movie in the 90s with their hollowed-eyed halloween masks and glittering robes that donned their bodies, keeping Park from knowing who had just stabbed him twice.
“What the fuck?” he hissed as he backed up into his Porsche’s driver door, hand trying to grip the handle but failing because of his blood’s slickness. “I’ll give you money or whatever the fuck you want but stay right over there or I swear I’ll call the cops.”
One of them tilted his head, and Park felt the dead eyes stare right through his soul.
He watched as the other—the taller one—raised a box to where his mouth would be behind the mask.
“You wanna know what we want, Brendon Park?” he asked, voice distorted through the modulator.
“I’ll give it to you,” Park grunted, the pain blooming up his sides and into his chest. They must have hit one of his kidneys and possibly an organ with how fast the anguish was spreading, making it hard to breathe in and out.
The taller looked down at the shorter, and their eyes met before they nodded. Park’s eyes widened when they both produced longer knives than the shorter ones they stabbed him with. The modulator rose again, and what he said next sent a chill right through Park’s stomach.
“We want to see what your insides look like.”
Without a beat, the two robed figures pounced on him, and in just a few minutes, Park slunked down to the concrete, leaving a painted bloodied smear across his car’s door. With satisfaction pumping through their veins, the two watched as he took his last wheezing breath before dying in a puddle consisting of almost all his blood. His body wouldn’t be found until the morning with stab wounds littering his body. His fault for parking away from everyone else in fear of his car getting scratched.
Only when the two were sure they were the only breathing beings in the lot, they ripped off the masks, and Jack huffed loudly.
“Murder was so much easier in med school when I wasn’t missing a fucking leg,” he grumbled while shifting his weight onto his real leg. He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked salt-and-pepper curls.
“Tell me about it,” Robby answered. “If he were any shorter, my knees would have given out if I had to bend down.” He kicked at Park’s leg and smirked when the body recoiled slightly. “But man did that feel good.”
“I’m kinda glad he decided to go off on her. Last mistake he’d ever make, but nothing beats the rush of this.”
The memory of Park berating you in the middle of their ER flashed through their minds. They'd seen the way you flinched under his words in a way they hadn't seen in decades. They'd wanted to kill him right then and their, but Robby and Jack weren't ones to break their promises, however, the next time all three of you had the day off, you told them what you wanted between moans as Robby sandwiched you between his and Jack's chest.
"I want him gone," you had whimpered out, forehead pressing into Jack's collar bone while Robby rocked you back and forth on his cock.
"Want who gone, sweets?" Jack questioned before grunting loudly when his tip notched against your clit.
"Park—shit—I want him gone."
You wanted them to kill Park, and they were never ones to disappoint.
Robby went to say something, but the shrill of his iPhone had him digging and floundering through the drapes of robes. When he managed to bunch the fabric, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone, answering it without a second glance.
“Hello? Michael Robinavitch speaking.”
“Do you want to play a game?” a voice answered from the speaker, and the two glanced at each other with devilish, knowing smiles.
“Depends on what type of game it is, sweetheart,” Jack responded, crossing his arms against his chest.
“I wanna know how much it’ll take to make you two scream.” Your small laugh followed, you not being able to take this as seriously as the two had back in school.
Robby brought his phone up closer to his mouth. “I don’t know the exact answer, but I think you can start with being naked and face down on the bed by the time we get back.”
“I think that can be arranged. Get home soon, or I might have to play the game myself.”
⤷ warnings; f! reader, mentions of various practices, spells and rituals, clark being supportive perusal
⤷ word count; 500~
a/n: i feel like i should’ve thought of more but wtv
CLARK WHO smiles when people ask why he smells like smoke. “oh! it’s my girlfriend, she lit up incense before we left” with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.
CLARK WHO finds runes and crystals in his bag at work. he went to get his notebook but spotted raw rose quartz in the bottom of his bag. he smiles because he knows it was you trying to protect him.
CLARK WHO doesn’t understand it, but he loves to learn. when you leave the kitchen with your hands full of various herbs he’s confused but intrigued. which is why he followed you to your alter to ask every question he could possibly think of, which your happy to answer.
CLARK WHO knows not to move the selenite at the top of the front door, or interrupt any of your daily rituals. especially not the crystals you’ve strategically placed around the house.
CLARK WHO loves watching you piece together a spell, or smoke cleanse the house. he loves it when you’re telling him to hold a crystal while you spin around him with incense.
CLARK WHO always stops by the metaphysical store when he’s near to buy you something. he’s asking questions before he picks the perfect gift for you, which you love and appreciate every time.
CLARK WHO buys you seeds to grow your own herbs and has a dedicated spot for all your herbs on his parents' farm.
CLARK WHO wanted to help you set up your alter when you moved into his apartment. he already planned where it would go and cleared a place for it near the windows in his living room because he knows you like to look out when you work.
CLARK WHO asks you to write affirmations on his skin care products too. he asked what the writing was one day and when you explained he went “it’s definitely working, beautiful.” then asked for you to put some on his and you two spend some time picking which affirmations fit his intentions the best.
CLARK WHO helps you hang all the flowers he’s given you on the wall. when you complain you can’t reach higher on the wall, he helps you put it up. you have a whole wall in your room dedicated to all the flowers he’s given you, plus some you’ve had to find over ways to preserve.
CLARK WHO loves the idea of you using anything he’s gifted you in your practices. he loves knowing you like your gift and knowing he’s contributing in some way makes him happy he's helping.
CLARK WHO silently watching you do your everyday practices just observing. he’s a big observant person in general but when you're doing any rituals or practices, he’s there (only after he triple checks he’s not intruding) watching and taking mental notes of how you do certain things.
art’s role in town had never been a mystery. being a donaldson came with expectations—the kind etched into stone long before he was born. from the moment he could string a sentence together, he knew his future was tied to the family’s work. their “business,” as they liked to call it, wasn’t something you advertised in the town square. the donaldsons were protectors—an old family, quiet and enduring, bound to the village by duty and blood. they didn’t run shops or farms. they hunted what most people tried to pretend didn’t exist.
monsters. spirits. the things that slipped through the cracks.
they didn’t brag about it. they just kept the town safe. and art—well, he was expected to do the same.
he preferred to work alone. nights when the moon hung low and full, when the crisp autumn air cut through the trees like it had teeth—those were his favorites. that’s when the swamp came alive. curso swamp didn’t pretend to be tame. it breathed and moved like a living thing, all wet shadows and whispering reeds. he knew it well. out there, away from the polished legacy and family name, he could move in silence. unburdened. focused.
hunting in curso was like slipping into a second skin.
now, he hadn’t expected company. especially not yours.
you didn’t mean to be curious about him—but you were. a vampire taking an interest in a hunter was stupid, really. he could kill you in an instant. you’d been watching him for weeks now, maybe months, though he hadn’t noticed at first. or maybe he had, and ignored it. either way, your curiosity had gotten the better of you.
a vampire taking an interest in a hunter was asking for trouble. the kind that got you staked, decapitated, or worse. and yet, you couldn’t help yourself. he was different from the others—clever with alchemy, deadly with a blade, quiet in that intriguing, dangerous way.
“i can hear you, bat,” he said flatly, not even bothering to turn. his voice carried easily through the stillness—dry, unimpressed, like this had become a routine.
it sort of had.
he glanced up finally, catching sight of you dangling upside down from a crooked branch, your smile bright in the moonlight. “hello, hunter!” you chirped, giving him a wave. he rolled his eyes, the faintest tug of amusement pulling at the corner of his mouth. “you again.”
“i live here,” you said, letting your hair sway in the breeze. “you’re the one trespassing.” he leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, then sighed. loudly. the kind of sigh someone gives when they’re pretending they’re annoyed but secretly don’t mind all that much.
you hung there, upside down and utterly at ease. perks of being undead—no blood rushing to your head. no dizziness. no awkward leg cramping. you could stay like that all night, watching him.
humans were so fragile.
“what are you doing here?” he asked, voice clipped.
“just checking in,” you said casually. “making sure you hadn’t been eaten by a bog hag or, i don’t know, tripped and fallen on your own sword.”
he scoffed. “touching. you really care.”
you grinned wider. “maybe i do.” he gave you a long look, eyes narrowing just slightly. you weren’t sure if he was suspicious, amused, or just trying to figure you out again. probably all three.
you wiggled your fingers cheerfully. “mortals fascinate me. you simply must tell me stories.”
he blinked. “stories?”
“yes! of your life. your village. your weapons. do you really keep your silver dust in that little pouch on your belt?” you pointed, then gasped. “oh, can i touch your sword?”
“no,” he said immediately. “absolutely not.”
“but i’m very gentle,” you offered, landing gracefully on your feet. “and curious.”
“too curious,” he muttered, glancing warily at you as you stepped closer.
“i’ve never really met a human before,” you confessed, circling him slowly like you were inspecting a very delicate piece of artwork. “well—met, sure. but not… like this. talking. not screaming. that’s new.”
art tilted his head. “why me, then?”
you paused, blinking at him. “you’re interesting. you don’t scream. or run. or smell like fear.” you sniffed dramatically. “just steel and moss. oh, and a little salt.”
“you’re not helping your case.”
you smiled. “wasn’t trying to.”
he stared at you, long and hard. “you’re not going to leave, are you?”
“of course not. you’re the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in decades.” you beamed. “i want to know everything. like, do all hunters carry salt in their boots? or is that just you?”
art pinched the bridge of his nose. “yes. fine. ask your questions. but walk with me.”
“oh?” you perked up, trailing behind him as he turned and began heading deeper into the woods. “where are we going? is this where you store the holy water? are you going to show me your secret stash of cursed daggers? wait—do you have a cursed dagger?”
“stop talking,” he muttered.
“not likely!”
he sighed again, but there was no real weight behind it. and as the trees closed in and the swamp whispered low around you, your steps fell into rhythm beside his. you smiled to yourself. humans were fascinating. and this one—this grumpy, brooding, utterly confusing one—might just be your favorite.
the two of you walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the distant rustle of reeds and the soft squelch of mud beneath art’s boots. your feet didn’t make a sound, of course. you floated more than walked, which he hated—though you liked to think it secretly impressed him.
he kicked a pebble as you walked, letting it skitter ahead. “so—do all hunters learn alchemy, or is that just a weird donaldson family thing?” you piped up once more.
he didn’t look at you, but his brow twitched. “it’s not weird. it’s useful.”
“useful and weird,” you corrected. “what’s the strangest thing you’ve ever bottled? essence of fear? ghost spit? oh—was it that time you exploded a toad with that powder stuff?”
“that toad was already dead.”
“was it?”
he finally glanced over, exasperated. “yes.”
you hummed, unconvinced. “you’re very mysterious, you know. you act like you hate questions, but you answer. it’s very suspicious. are you trying to lure me into a trap?”
“i don’t need to lure you,” he said dryly. “you just show up on your own.”
“fair point.”
the conversation faded into the rustle of wind through trees and the soft, rhythmic sound of his boots in the damp earth. “why do you always come out here alone?” you asked eventually. “you have a whole family of hunters, don’t you?”
he didn’t answer right away. his gaze swept the dark path ahead, sharp and practiced. “i work better on my own.”
“that’s not really an answer,” you said. “is it because you don’t like people? or because you don’t trust them?”
he glanced at you sidelong, brow furrowed. “why do you ask so many questions?”
you grinned. “because i’ve never gotten to know a human before. you’re all so… temporary. and dramatic. it’s delightful.”
he gave a quiet snort. “most people would say the same about your kind.”
“i know,” you replied, almost proudly. “but most people also throw garlic at me before i get to introduce myself.”
that earned a flicker of something in his expression. not quite a smile, but close.
you tilted your head, floating backward now so you could face him fully. “have you always wanted to be a hunter?”
“no,” he said simply.
you blinked. that was unexpected. “really? but your family—”
“doesn’t mean i wanted it,” he said, gaze dropping to the mossy trail beneath his boots. “it was just… expected.”
the quiet stretched between you for a moment, broken only by the soft rustle of wind through the trees. “i wanted to play tennis,” he said suddenly, so quietly you almost missed it.
your eyes widened. “tennis? truly?”
he gave a small nod, barely a tilt of his head. “when i was younger. i used to sneak off to the courts outside the village. play until my hands were blistered. i liked the rhythm of it. the focus. it made sense.”
you smiled, touched. “that’s beautiful.”
“it’s stupid,” he muttered.
you floated a little closer, intrigued. “that’s not stupid at all.”
he let out a dry laugh. “try telling that to my father. said it was a waste of strength and time. that i was soft.”
your expression softened. “wanting something for yourself doesn’t make you weak.”
he looked at you, jaw tense, eyes shadowed. “doesn’t matter now.”
“it does,” you said quietly, sincerely. “even if it’s just to me.”
art looked at you, really looked, and something unreadable flickered behind his eyes. you weren’t sure if he was annoyed, uncertain, or just tired of pretending not to enjoy your company.
“you ask too many questions,” he said again, but softer this time.
you grinned. “and you never answer enough.”
he shook his head, but didn’t push you away when you finally landed on the ground, falling into step beside him. you could feel the chill in the air start to sink in, curling around the trees, fog beginning to rise through the swamp floor like ghosts.
but still, the space between you felt a little warmer.
“do you still play?” you asked quietly.
“no.”
“why not?”
he didn’t answer.
so you let the question hang in the air, unsaid but not forgotten. and instead of pressing, you just walked beside him, hands clasped behind your back, gaze lifted to the moonlight threading through the trees.
eventually, without looking at you, he asked, “do you miss it? being human?”
you blinked. then blinked again. it was the first time he’d asked you anything.
“i don’t know,” you said honestly. “i don’t remember much of my human life.”
he looked at you. you didn’t smile this time. you just let him see you. he nodded once, and said nothing more. but his steps slowed, just a little, to match yours perfectly. and that—quiet, simple, unspoken—was enough.
featuring characters from: challengers, saltburn, little women, call me by your name & euphoria
very late bot drop soz but thank u for 500!! u guys are so sweet much love <33
hoping to get another drop out before challengers anniversary. marvel bots + some requests, maybe hotd if i have the time ! so if u have any requests for those (or for challengers anniversary) send them in asap :) also this post is not proofread i apologise for illiteracy in advance
as always bots are gender neutral unless specified otherwise. have fun
enjoy ! <3
CHALLENGERS
DESTROY MYSELF JUST FOR YOU
art donaldson x user
Patrick strolling by the window of your hotel the night before the 2011 Open was not on your bingo card. Still dressed in the last shirt you saw him in, the one he stormed out of your dorm room in the day you were hit with your career-ending injury... you didn't mean for it to happen, it simply did. You expect to find Art asleep early before his big final, but when you creep back into your hotel room smelling of Patrick's cologne, you're surprised to find him awake and waiting for you. Ah, shit. Busted.
ROOM 271
art x tashi x patrick x user
A decades worth of tension has been ready to spill over the last week of the Phil's Tire Town Challenger. After the final, the Donaldsons invite you and your husband back to a hotel room to hash things out. Or, more accurately, sleep things out. Patrick is just the only one brave enough to say it.
SHADY DEALS
patrick zweig x user
Nobody would have guessed after just two years on tour Patrick Zweig would call it quits. By some miracle (his trust fund) he secured himself a place at Stanford, where he soon realised he had a knack for something outside of the world of tennis and academics: dealing. And you just so happen to be one of his favourite clients.
WHAT'S MINE IS YOURS
art x patrick x user
Art is the perfect boyfriend, but it's always felt like something is missing. Recently, you've begun to think maybe that thing is Patrick... They're two halves of the same person, no? You can deny it all you want, but maybe you and Art aren't as opposed to the idea as you both pretend to be.
COLOUR ME BLUE
patrick zweig x user
It's safe to say 'loyalty' is not Patrick Zweig's middle name. But you've always looked past the signs and prayed things would change as he grew up. Alas, when he returns home from his most recent Challenger, you're ready and waiting to call him out on a compromising photo you received of him looking far too comfortable with a 'fan.'
THE DUNCANATOR
tashi duncan x user (wlw)
You weren't disappointed when you lost to Tashi. You were proud to make it to the final, and she was clearly the better player. Oh, well—you can fake smile your way through the pity congratulations at her celebration party. That's until the woman of the hour herself, The Duncanator, approaches you to talk about tennis.
OVER THE PHONE
patrick zweig x user
Long distance is a bitch. But the pair of you are invested in making this work, even if most of your contact is over Skype calls and SMS when he's on tour and you're stuck at Stanford. Patrick just can't help but feel a bit pent-up, though, and who are you to deny your boyfriend?
INFIDELITY
tashi duncan x user
You haven't seen Tashi in years. She went off and married Art, you went off and dated Patrick. (No ring, of course—he's Patrick.) You're surprised to get a text from her past midnight the night before the final, asking you to pick her up outside her hotel. What you expect is a quickie in the backseat for old times sake... not for her to ask you to convince Patrick to throw the match.
TOO MUCH?
patrick zweig x user
Patrick has been seeing you casually for a while. Nothing more than the occasional text and phone call when he's on tour, but he's all over you when he's in California to visit Art. So it's safe to say he's a little surprised when you accidentally moan out that you love him while he's buried inside you.
SALTBURN
HARMLESS
felix catton x user
You've been an honorary member of the Catton family for the last few years. The integration of Oliver Quick into the ranks of the family is, to say the least, a little bit threatening. You aren't jealous of him... no, of course not! He's just a charity case. But you can't help but feel a little bitter when your summers at Saltburn reserved just for you, Felix, Venetia and Farleigh turn into 'and Oliver.'
NO STRINGS ATTACHED
felix catton x user
For Felix, university was all about bedding women and booze. He's naturally intelligent and very rich—he'll graduate just fine. But when he meets you, he's surprised to find he actually wants to do things other than get laid and do shots. Ugh, maybe there are some strings attached.
LITTLE WOMEN
WINE DRUNK
theodore laurence x user
Laurie—or Teddy, to you—is one of your dearest friends. He's also the only reason you can ever get through these dreadful high society parties. You normally spend your nights snickering over how frilly some of the dresses are or mocking some poor lord's accent, but he's nowhere to be found. After an hour of searching, you find him very tipsy, and very much not alone. Traitor.
WOMANHOOD
jo march x user (wlw)
When Laurie proposed to her, there was no hesitation in her answer. She pities him, of course—she does love him. Just not in the way he wants her to. She doesn't want to spend her life as some wife. She wants to pursue her writing, her career, and she can't do that in the shadow of a man. The common denominator here seems to be men, though. Men are the problem... so what about another woman?
EUROPE
theodore laurence x user
When Aunt March offered to cart you off to Europe instead of your older sister, Jo, you were ecstatic. Finally something for yourself. A chance to get over the childhood crush you harboured on Laurie, and finally secure yourself your own match. Rumour has it you're to be engaged soon, and he can't miss up on the chance to see you again. To congratulate you, of course! No other motives.
CALL ME BY YOUR NAME
NOSEBLEED
elio perlman x user
Elio has always been a fiercely independent person, so it's only natural he'll grouse at any form of assistance. You may be his best friend, but he's not a baby! But... maybe he'll tolerate some company when he has to leave the table to nurse a nosebleed. Just don't get too pushy, okay?
SAMUEL'S INTERN
elio perlman x user
Ugh. Americans. Always so entitled. They think they're so charming. The best thing since sliced bread, or however the saying goes. But you... well, Elio can't help but be intrigued by you when you come to spend the summer as his father's research assistant. He just wants to be your friend. Give him a chance!
EUPHORIA
IT GIRL
maddy perez x user
Maddy isn't usually the charity type. But for whatever reason, she finds herself drawn to you. With a little bit of tweaking, you'd fit perfectly in her little group (cult) of friends. And how are you supposed to turn down an offer from East Highland's it girl?
SECOND BEST
rue bennett x user (wlw)
Dating a girl who isn't over her ex is misery business. You thought eventually she'd get over it, but god, all she does is stare at Jules like a lovesick puppy. You aren't one to get insecure easily, but come on... it's getting a little much; you're literally right there!
GASLIGHTER
nate jacobs x user
He's a fucking asshole, there's no doubt about it. But Nate is also sickeningly good at getting you to forgive him. All it requires is a few well-placed touches and whispers into your ear and you've already forgotten what you were supposed to be upset over. Wait, why were you even yelling?
DEALER
rue bennett x user
High school came and went, and by some miracle, Rue managed to scrape together enough credits to graduate. The next step was, of course, pursuing her passion: drugs! She went from being dealt to doing the selling herself. Nobody warned her about how easy it was to get attached to her clients, though. You're just... kind of cool. Maybe that's just the weed talking.
LIPGLOSS
maddy perez x user (wlw)
Most of your hangouts go like this. Maddy convincing you to do something you don't want to because she either goads you or bats her lashes prettily. (It was both, this time.) She just wants to doll you up! You'd look so pretty if you just put in the effort. She never intended to have a sexuality crisis after doing your lipstick, though.
WANT U BACK
nate jacobs x user
You've had an on-off relationship with Nate for the last, what, two years? You're sick and tired of the fake apologies that always end in a repeat of the same behaviour. Unfortunately, he's not above cornering you at a party and demanding you hear him out when his little rebound doesn't go to plan. Please, he just wants you back.
RELAPSE
rue bennett x user
Her journey with substances over the last few years has been... something else. When she relapses after making it to three months clean, her friends and family hold an intervention. And, as her best friend, you're right there to welcome her out of rehab with open arms. Or an open car door—wait, she's not actually going to get out of a moving car, is she?
featuring characters from: challengers, outer banks, harry potter and dune
yippee !! thank u so much for the recent love. a little later than anticipated because being a woman threw a wrench in my plans :( but here we are!!
second part of the drop asap. a lot more fem!bots in that one finally!!
gender neutral unless specific otherwise. have fun
enjoy ! <3
CHALLENGERS
BOYFRIENDS
patrick x art x user
Being in a relationship with both Fire and Ice is normally great. The three of you adore each other, but sometimes Patrick gets on your nerves. Especially when you just want to spoil Art after a particularly rough practice and your other boyfriend just seems so intent to push your last button.
JUST A REBOUND
patrick zweig x user
He's been your best friend since the Academy days: just you, Patrick and Art. But with Art and Tashi out of the picture, he doesn't know what to do with himself. It feels like he's grieving a death rather than two relationships. So, in an attempt to distract himself from the loss, Patrick uses the crush you've harboured on him for the last decade to keep himself busy. A rebound, if you will.
FAN CLUB
tashi duncan x user
It's just always about tennis with her. What was initially supposed to be a quickie before her match turns into an argument when your girlfriend won't just focus on you for once. But you're not a pushover like Art. You don't have to deal with this bullshit.
ATLANTA
patrick zweig x user
It's been almost a decade since Atlanta. And yet, for whatever reason, Patrick decides now is the appropriate time to come clean about cheating on you with Tashi in 2011. Well, that's going to make for an incredibly awkward drive to your motel.
OUTER BANKS
WALLET
rafe cameron x user (m4f)
To the outside world, he's a selfish dick. But to you, Rafe Cameron is just your softie of a best friend. All fighting words and swinging fists when he's with his boys, but right now he's dragging you along on your second shopping trip of the week just to spoil you... except he's decided it's totally appropriate and platonic to guide you directly into a lingerie store.
PATCH UP
rafe cameron x user
It's a bit of a regular occurrence at this point: Rafe gets into a fight with the Pogues, and he comes to you, his best friend, to patch him up. A little tiring, but it's better than watching Ward beat his ass for tarnishing their reputation over some childish squabble. So, when he shows up for his weekly patch-up, you're left to put the pieces together again.
DADDY ISSUES
jj maybank x user
JJ has always been stubborn as an ox; too prideful and independent for his own good. But he's been getting into it with his old man more often than not recently, and there's always one person he allows to see him at his absolute worst: you.
NEW IN TOWN
rafe cameron x user
He's seen you around a few times. Hanging around the country club with your parents, or walking down the street with your dog. But it's not until you're brave enough to show up at your first Kildare party at the Boneyard that he gets the chance to introduce himself. And yeah, he's real interested in getting to know you better.
HARRY POTTER
JUST BANTER, INNIT?
sirius black x user
He’s never been the most tactful individual in the world, but Sirius has really taken it to a new level as of late. Always so hot and cold—one moment he’s telling you that your hair looks lovely today, the next he’s insulting you with a disdainful look. But he longs for your attention, and being the absolute prat that he is, he resorts to the own method he knows: bullying.
LUCKY CHARM
james potter x user
Sirius placing a bet on Slytherin winning the Quidditch final is not making him feel any better before his match. Neither of you have any doubt about it being just to get in his head. The worst part is that it works. But, like always, his lucky charm comes in to ease his nerves before his big game.
INVITATIONS
remus lupin x user
Romance isn’t really Remus’ thing. He leaves the pulling girls to James and Sirius, after all. But, well, what are his other options? Taking Peter to the ball? Merlin, he’d rather cut off his left foot. There’s always you… the friend he’s been not-so-secretly infatuated with for the last two years. He’s just too shy to ask.
MISCHIEF MANAGED
sirius x remus x james x peter x user
After spending the last few months tagging along with the Marauders, you've finally garnered their respect enough to earn a place amongst their ranks. Which, of course, means being introduced to their secret little map. But... come on. It's a piece of paper. This has to be a prank, right?
TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME
sirius black x user
The pair of you had never agreed on exclusivity, but a part of you was hoping you were on the same page. Clearly not, given the fact you'd seen Sirius' with his hand up some girl's skirt in between classes. So, instead of simply moving on and being mature about the entire thing, you opt for a blow below the belt: a rebound with one of his brother's best friends.
SECOND PLACE
remus lupin x user
James is good at Quidditch. Sirius is good at existing. Peter is... well, he's Peter. And what does Remus have? His bloody test scores. Top of every class for the last seven years until, miraculously, you start pushing back. He's a sweet boy, truly, but he can't help but blow a fuse when McGonagall announces you scored above him on your last test.
STUDY BUDDY
james potter x user
Academics aren't exactly his strong suit, but he's not hopeless. He just has better things to do than keep his nose in a book all day. As long as he gets his assignments in eventually, what's the harm? Except his mother isn't very pleased with the fact he's failing some of his classes. Sneaking off to go study in the library doesn't go his way when you stumble upon him. Maybe he could use a study buddy?
THE BLOODY BARON
sirius black x user
Rivals is a strong word. You aren't fourteen anymore, that would be ridiculous. But, admittedly, there's always been a bit of contention between your own friend group and the Marauders when it comes to playing pranks. When Sirius stumbles upon you somehow worming your way out of a detention for a recent mishap, he just has to grill you about it.
DUNE
THE DUNES
chani kynes x user
On Arrakis, the harsh terrain is defied with every breath, but it always wins in the end. It will claim you, too, one day; you will return to water, and be one with the dunes. Forever with your people. But amidst it all, the treacherous planet you live on, Chani has you.
SAND AND WATER
paul atreides x user
Inexplicably fond is the only way to describe how you feel towards Paul. What started as irritation towards his integration into the Fremen people blossomed into something more; a friendship, perhaps. All you're willing to acknowledge is that you value moments like this far too much—just the two of you, staring out at the dunes.
THE WITCH
chani kynes x user (wlw)
The Fremen have always been Chani's utmost priority, and the arrival (and acceptance) of the foreigners is concerning to her. Paul fits in, yes, but it's his mother that she's worried about. Alas, Stilgar is always so quick to brush off her concerns, leaving you as the only one to listen to her complaints.
featuring characters from: challengers, west side story, panic & the bikeriders
mike faist character drop!! yippee!!!
dont get ur panties in a twist patrick/tashi lovers they Will be back. hopefully this weekend or early next week with euphoria/saltburn/outer banks etc etc bot drop. probably better to do this rather than dropping a billion bots at once! also promise i'll drop a gn (or mlm) riff bot eventually. + u can probably tell i've watched like five episodes of panic i'll finish it at some point and make more event-based dodge
also some of the reqs were a lil vague so. took creative liberty n hope they all turned out somewhat okay !!
gender neutral unless specified otherwise. have fun
enjoy ! <3
ART DONALDSON
BOY NEXT DOOR
stanford!art x neighbour!user (m4f)
Art's always been real cute. Two years younger than you, just that sweet boy next door. A little bit awkward but you always put that down to the puberty years. But boy is he smitten with you. And when you're both back to spend winter break with your families, he can't miss out on another chance to talk to you. He's not a little boy anymore.
RETIREMENT
painter!art x younger!user
When Art retired, it was just an unspoken fact that he would turn to coaching. So when he puts down his racket in exchange for a paintbrush, everyone is baffled. He doesn't regret it in the slightest, though—not when his rediscovered hobby leads to him meeting you, his new muse.
CHEATER CHEATER
stanford!art x user (m4f)
He’s always been the perfect boyfriend… minus the fact he’s in love with Tashi Duncan. When you plan to surprise him with a visit from his long-distance best friend, you don’t expect a text from Patrick telling you that your boyfriend and his girlfriend are sleeping with each other behind your backs. Time to avoid him like the plague.
NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER
divorced!art x girlfriend!user (m4f)
Art was a broken creature after his divorce. No purpose in life without tennis or a marriage to keep him in check. So when he meets you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office, the pair of you just click. He’s found his new reason to live again, and he’s ready to take the next step with you: kids, marriage, the whole white picket dream.
WOMANISER
stanford!art x user
Without Patrick in the picture, Art finally doesn't have to play second fiddle anymore. No longer just his shadow, but the heartbreaker of Stanford University. And unfortunately, you're one of the victims of his sweet blue eyes and whispered sweet little nothings. But maybe, one day, he'll realise you're enough for him.
DOCTOR DONALDSON
stanford!art x best friend!user
Art knows when you're feeling under the weather, it gets rough. All the worst symptoms imaginable, resigned to a week in a dark room while your body struggles. He's all too happy to play the role of Doctor Donaldson and nurse you back to full health.
RIFF LORTON
DADDY MATERIAL
baby daddy!riff x user (m4f)
Having a kid was never in the cards for Riff. What was his motto? Born to die young, daddy-o. Except, well, now he's the daddy... The Jets will always be his boys, but he's got a real family now. If only you'd just let him in.
PRE-RUMBLE
riff lorton x user (m4f)
Riff is real pissed. Tony must have a loose screw in his head, the rest of his boys are too busy muckin' around, and the alcohol isn't easing his nerves for the fight tomorrow night. But he's got you, one of his favourite girls, to make it all a little easier.
FOOLIN' AROUND
riff lorton x user (m4f)
Riff's never been in love. But he thinks he's come pretty damn close with you. Maybe he's getting sick and tired of just sleeping in your bed and taking you dancing the odd time. Maybe this tough ol' gang leader wants to take you on a real date—make you his girl.
LET'S DANCY, GIRLY GIRL
riff lorton x user (m4f)
He loves dancing. All his boys spinning around nice girls in pretty skirts, a respite from the havoc of the rest of New York, just good music and laughter. When he sees you across the floor, the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on, dancing with one of his boys... well, Diesel can get fuckin' lost.
DODGE MASON
SAVE A HORSE
dodge mason x partner!user
You don't know jack shit about riding. All you know is that he's supposed to stay for eight seconds—or maybe it's seven?—on the back of one of those real angry looking horses, and then he... wins, or something like that. But you don't really care about the horse. No, you're interested in riding something else.
DOT'S DINER
co-worker!dodge x user
Dodge has always been a bit of a mystery to you. To everyone, really. You never really cared enough to delve past the whole 'loner boy' persona he has going on at school... until you got a job at the same diner. Your efforts to get to know him were fruitless; he was polite enough, but clearly disinterested in being your friend. But after spotting him at the rodeo last week, you finally have something to talk to him about.
DANNY LYON
THE VANDALS
danny lyon x benny's sister!user (m4f)
You've got him stumped. A completely mystery to him, shrouded in a shadow that he can't quite see past no matter how bright he shines a light. You don't have a Kathy to spout your secrets to him like your brother does, meaning Danny just has to figure you out himself. And he will. He's certain of it.
CAMERA SHY
danny lyon x user
Danny loves you, but you're a little difficult sometimes. Or maybe insecure is a better word. Which, for the life of him, he can't understand. You're beautiful—the perfect partner for him, in every aspect. So, please, just let him take some pictures of you?
art donaldson ・゜゜・．five minutes.
even with divorce proceedings going as smoothly as they possibly could— thank god him and tashi are in agreement about everything— nothing prepared art for the reality of his daughter recognizing her parents aren’t going to live in the same place anymore; that their ideas of home are no longer aligned. his world’s shaken-up, he’s beyond being hesitant to ask for reassurance, and all art needs is five minutes of your time— just five. for annie! @grimsonandclover
art donaldson ・゜゜・．out of the loop.
art, well… he always tries his best to keep up with what’s current and popular for your sake— among other things— but sometimes there’s a learning curve and other times he simply doesn’t get it. there’s only so many times a man can be reminded of the gap between him and his partner before it becomes a sore subject for him to pout about. (based off your countless dilf!art social media aus/texts bc your humor is off the charts) for ava! @coolgrl111
art donaldson ・゜゜・．yuck.
while paparazzi photos are nothing new to the two of you, a night out after celebrating one of art’s challenger wins is immortalized in the form of photos and accompanying tabloid articles. it’s not the end of the world, sure, but those moments were for you and art, not the rest of the world. art’s just lucky you’re smitten with him enough to entertain his teasing instead of kicking him out of the apartment altogether. (unofficial sequel to the talk talk!art bot!) (based off of “yuck” by charli xcx!) for katerina! @katerinathesaint
art donaldson ・゜゜・．throwing in the towel.
nobody said that recovery for your knee would be easy, but no one mentioned how everyone would start walking around on eggshells with you throughout the process. you’re the duncanator, for fuck’s same— you’re not broken. you will return to playing tennis… but you really should let someone in just in case things don’t pan out the way they’re supposed to, and art’s willing to be that crutch for as long as you need him. for merry! @newrochellechallenger2019
carmen berzatto ・゜゜・．rock ‘n’ roll suicide.
graduation’s come and gone, summer’s dragging way more than he’d anticipated, and every day that passes leaves carmy feeling more and more like he's wasting time. he’s too old to lose it and too young to choose it, but maybe there is a something else planned for him besides working at the beef and being alone. you’re an angel keeping him preoccupied while he’s in this state, and carmy’s positive there’s no romantic gesture in the world that could convey just how grateful he is for you and your continued supportive presence in his life. (late teens!carmy) (based off of “rock ‘n’ roll suicide” by david bowie!) for elle! @mrmoonymoons
jonathan byers ・゜゜・．remorseful reflections.
after a week of hell— full of monsters and men, secret government lab experiments and a little girl that could flip a van with her mind— will byers is home. and while jonathan couldn’t be happier… the lingering dread of potentially being the reason for will’s disappearance in the first place is eating away at him. it’s clearly serious if not even the psychedelic furs can cheer the elder byers boy up. for zoe! @bluestrd
natasha romanoff ・゜゜・．forwards beckon rebound.
if natasha’s life is meant to be a continuous cycle of strife, pain, and torment— dragging everything and everyone she cares about into its endless spiral of loss— she’d rather it just swallow her whole already. too bad you won’t let that happen; not when you’ve both already lost too many friends and loved ones for a lifetime. sometimes, she just needs to be reminded of the family she has left than solely dwelling on the ones that are gone. (based off of “forwards beckon rebound” by adrianne lenker!) for juliana! @jclolz22
patrick zweig ・゜゜・．my love mine all mine.
with the historic, volatile feud between the zweigs and your family, there was no chance they would understand that you two could feel anything but hate for each other. they didn’t need to know that the two of you were seeing each other in secret, nor did anyone else who’d run their mouth instead of swearing themselves to secrecy just like you and patrick had. even the moon knew that you were patrick’s and he was yours… so what are you both to do when the world finds out your secret? (romeo & juliet-esque) (based off of “my love mine all mine” by mitski!) for diya! @diyasgarden
patrick zweig ・゜゜・．BITE.
patrick zweig ・゜゜・．BITE. mlm.
while it’s not his first time at a queer club, it is the first time patrick’s gone and actually been himself. promising himself that he’ll finally get over the memories of sharp brown eyes and blond curls haunting him and forget them for good, patrick’s pleasantly surprised to find the perfect someone on the dance floor and shoot his shot. and hey, if they want to sing him like a choir later, he won't say no to that. (based off of “BITE” by troye sivan!) for ellias! @weirdfishesthoughts
patrick zweig ・゜゜・．supercut.
who knew working at aces of tomorrow tennis camp would be like this; all caught up in a whirlwind romance with a fellow camp counselor like patrick. while you two keep things secret, you’d be lying if there wasn’t a part of you desperate to define the situationship even if it ends in heartbreak. while it’d be easier to just focus on the good parts— to live in your little supercut of greatest hits— you have to know if patrick even remotely feels the same as you do. (camp counselor!au) (based off of “supercut” by lorde!) for indigo! @angeldressedasindigo
patrick zweig ・゜゜・．maps.
once upon a time, the four of you had been close— but now, twelve years since tashi’s injury, patrick’s emerged from the past and he’s dead set on trying to win all of you back. tashi and art have proven to have moved on from the affair, but patrick always knew you were the weakest link out of your old quartet; if art’s never had a backbone, you’re worse than spineless when it comes to confrontation. what’s patrick got to do to convince you that he’s worth all the trouble and heartache? (based off of “maps” by the yeah yeah yeahs!) for isabel! @cryinginanuncoolway
patrick zweig ・゜゜・．let her go.
love comes slow and goes so fast, and rebound or not, patrick threw away a chance at a real relationship with you all because of his damn pride. sure, you were his rebound from tashi post-pepperdine match fallout, but patrick’s more than aware now that you meant more than that— that you mean more than that to him. if he’s got to grovel, humiliate himself, and kiss the ground you walk on to be forgiven, so be it. it’s only fair. (based off of “let her go” by passenger!) for mika! @s0ftcobra
patrick zweig ・゜゜・．it only gets stranger.
patrick zweig— grade-a jerk, captain of the varsity tennis team with art donaldson, and all-around spoiled rich boy— was the embodiment of frustration for you. he was a boy who’d grown up with everything at his disposal, having everything he could want without ever truly earning it. so it’s all the more jarring to be in the passenger seat of his bmw with his letterman thrown over your shoulders as he drives you home. it’s not like the two of you are friends… but encountering monsters beyond your wildest imagination do have a way of changing things. (stranger things!au) for nori! @leftoverghosts
robin and steve ・゜゜・．rent’s due!
when the time came to get out of hawkins and to finally start living the lives you wanted, that’s exactly what you, robin, and steve did the moment you could. chicago’s a fresh new start, and worrying about creatures from the upside down coming back to fight another day has turned into you three stressing about rent and whether you can afford textbooks and groceries that month. that’s adulting for you... but you really wouldn’t have it any other way. for jax! @whimsijoy
tashi duncan ・゜゜・．GOLDWING.
when the media had set its sights on tashi when she used to play professionally, she’d welcomed the attention. now that she’s your coach, she’s smart enough to know how important they are to your career while also recognizing how much damage they could cause you if they pried too much into your personal life. take it from a former professional tennis player who’d once been in your shoes: keep your head down. (based off of “GOLDWING” by billie eilish!) for lilli! @apatheticrater
got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 12.9K! and THANK YOU all for being so patient with me as i worked to get this release out. of COURSE i had to get busy up and out of nowhere the moment i posted these slots… will i ever know peace? no. anyways. thank you all to the lovely people above and to ALL OF YOU HERE that have been so supportive and helped me get to where i am now. it hasn’t even been a year since i’ve started making bots (we’re almost there) and we already hit 10k. so wild. love you all with all that i am. none of this is possible without any of you continuing to motivate me and push me to be creative. and if u want more of me u can join my community if u want to… anything that doesn’t get spammed on my feed gets spammed there so yeah. THANK YOU!!!!!!
🏸˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ coach!art x reader x tennisplayer!rafe
jealous art, age gap (art is mid-late 30s, you and rafe are 20s), voyeurism, art calls rafe "kid" but everyone is adults!!, 18+ mdni
it's my birthday!! so nothing better than something incredibly self indulgent for my first real smut (,,>ヮ<,,)!
you're art donaldson’s star student
the brightest star in his sky, damn the sun
he thinks you're an angel come down to earth, flying through the air in those little white pleated skirts
golden, perfect, pure
and then rafe cameron came along
all cockiness and aggression, if his rich parents weren’t paying him so much for private lessons, art would’ve dropped that bastard long ago
rafe had his sights set on you since the very first day he arrived to the court for lessons with art and there you were finishing up your own
little white pleated skirt that showed a glimpse of your underwear every time you jumped to return a ball
he makes sure to talk you up while you’re packing up your things, all dazzling, country club smile
you find him pretty, a little rough around the edges, but you knew the type of guy he was. spoiled rich boy with eyes that looked like they were hiding something
immediately art didn’t approve. watching from across the court with eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching extra tight with each chew of that minty gum in his mouth
art said rafe was a bad influence on you despite him being the one infatuated by his much younger student
at least he was looking out for you. making you better. he could tell just by looking at rafe that he’d only make you worse
he typically tried to keep the two of you apart, keeping your interactions to a minimum, but he saw how you started taking more time to stretch after practice. drawing your lithe limbs above your head and bending extra low whenever rafe arrived for his lesson. lingering. waiting.
and every time he’d see rafe’s eyes on you he’d snap “let’s go, cameron, warm up.” making sure he was occupied with something else
then you suggested he double up your lessons. something about a scrimmage for practice. he said no for weeks as you kept bugging him about it “trust me, he’s nowhere near your level. it’s not going to do a thing for you.”
the day he finally gave in, he regretted it the second he saw rafe’s cocky smile directed right at you from across the net like he had a single chance. he watched you go easy on him for a full set before he told you off for it. “we’re not gonna do this if you’re not gonna play right. what did i tell you about creating bad habits?”
at least he got the satisfaction of watching you take rafe’s ego down a peg after that
but then… god help him.
he was walking by the locker room after practice, towel slung over his neck and racket bag on his shoulder when he heard it. it sounded like you were crying out in pain, and he nearly dropped everything to rush in and help you when he heard what came next. his voice.
“fuckk you’re so fuckin’ tight,” rafe groaned and art froze. he couldn’t move a muscle
he was standing just inside the doorway, unable to see wherever rafe had you pinned up against a row of lockers, just listening. he felt like such a pervert, but he couldn’t leave, not when you sounded like that
every whine and moan sounded like the choir of heaven in his ears, it could almost drown out each disgusting word the other boy was grunting in your ear
“you like this? letting me fuck your brains out where anyone could hear? what if coach heard his perfect angel getting railed like a slut in the locker room?”
he had to make himself leave after that. it was too close. and he was far too hard from hearing the way you cried out even louder at that
after that incident, your lingering after practice stopped altogether. instead, you were rushing off to the locker room. checking your watch every minute for the last ten minutes of your lesson. so much so he had to scold you for it. “you have somewhere to be?”
not only that, but rafe started showing up to his lessons late. swaggering onto the court with mussed hair and red marks half-way hidden under the collar of his polo
it was driving art out of his mind, making him more and more irritable with the kid, making him run extra drills over and over hoping his hands would bleed or something in his shoulder would tear and he wouldn’t be able to touch you like that anymore
it finally got to the point where he had to sit you down at the end of your lesson to have a talk. you were fidgeting in your seat on the bench, your gaze constantly flicking to your watch or back towards the locker rooms. your knee was bouncing so anxiously, he had to reach out and lay his big hand on your thigh to keep it still
“i don’t think rafe is a good influence on you, sweetheart,” says the perv who fists himself every night thinking about the way you sounded on someone else’s cock
you tilt your head in confusion at him, looking like the sweetest little puppy and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from squeezing your leg too tight
“i’m moving your tuesday lessons to mondays,” he finally says with a sigh. no more overlap with rafe. no more lingering, no more running off, all of your time would be his
“what?” you sputter. as long as you’d been with him you’ve had lessons every tuesday, thursday, and friday, and now all of a sudden he thinks he can change things with a snap of his fingers?
“rafe’s taking your spot so he can have the earlier time,” he sighs as if it’s all the rich kid’s fault and not his own selfishness
“why does he get priority?” you scoff. “and what the hell does this have to do with his ‘influence’ on me?”
“well, i know you have the availability on mondays and his parents are paying me a ridiculous amount of money for his slot. and don’t think i don’t see what’s going on here,” he gestures between you and the locker rooms with a flick of his finger
“what? what’s going on here?” you ask accusingly
“you’re ruining your focus on your game for some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about you. i can’t let you do this, sweetheart, you know you’re going places. only place he’s going is the country club,” art scoffs, his patience running thin
but you’ve heard enough, gathering your things and storming off to the locker rooms, leaving art to hang his head in his hands and remind himself that he’s doing the right thing
but this time when rafe’s late to practice, he’s already pissed off. five minutes late turns into fifteen and he can’t take it anymore, storming off the court and towards the locker rooms
he doesn’t bother stopping outside this time, walking right to the back of the room where rafe is busy plowing into you from the back, your hands splayed against the lockers as you’re bent over at the hips
art slams his hand against the hollow metal to catch your attention, both of your heads instantly shooting to the side to look at him with wide, shocked eyes
“what the fuck?” rafe grunts, stilling inside you, but art’s eyes are only on you. even as he says “you’re late.”
but you’ve had enough of his attitude today. the look in your eyes turns defiant as you hold his gaze, pushing your hips back against rafe’s again. “he’s busy.”
rafe grunts and grips your hips tighter, his gaze flicking between the two of you with his brows furrowed in confusion
art rolls his eyes at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “like he’s even getting you off like that,” he scoffed and rafe’s face scrunches up in offense, opening his mouth to protest, but then you’re grinding your hips back on him again and all he can do is groan
“how would you know, coach?” you dig at him again, eyes narrowing at him
“i know what pleasuring a woman sounds like,” he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. and he knows you’re too competitive to not take it as a challenge
it doesn’t take long for art to have your back pressed up against those lockers, one knee pressed into your chest with his grip on your thigh and his length bullying you open
he drags his hips back slowly before snapping them up into you at an angle that makes you see stars, your nails clawing at his back as you cry out with each thrust
rafe’s watching your fucked out face over art’s shoulder, still almost too stunned by everything to do anything but fist his own cock at the sight
“feel what you were missin’ out on, baby?” art murmurs against your neck as he presses kiss after kiss to your neck, your jaw, your shoulder, wherever his lips could reach. “runnin’ off to let some spoiled kid rut into you instead of staying with me?”
you could hear the possessiveness in his voice and it almost made you feel guilty for all those times you ran out of practice as fast as you could to meet with rafe instead. but then again you probably never would’ve had him fucking you this good without it
“‘m sorry, coach,” you whine in his ear and it makes him let out a low groan, his hips snapping up even harder at that. “fuck, you should be,” he huffs into your ear
his hand that’s not practically holding you up comes down between your bodies to rub at your neglected clit and you’re instantly clenching tighter around him, your head falling back against the locker with a clanging sound drowned out by a near pornographic moan. he curses lowly again at the feeling of you squeezing around him like a vice grip, and he knows you’re close
“c’mon, baby, show rafe what it actually sounds like when you’re cumming all over a cock,” he mutters in your ear and that’s all it takes for you to fall apart
you swear you nearly black out from the pleasure and its only a matter of time before he’s pulling out of you and spilling his own release in thick ropes onto your stomach with a chorus of groans and “fuck”s and “so fucking good”s
after a long moment of nothing but a choir of panting breaths in the air, art turns his head to find rafe still sitting on the bench behind the two of you, his hand and stomach covered in his own cum
“practice is cancelled today,” art huffs at him before he’s turning his attention back to you, lowering your leg back to the ground and practically carrying you back to the showers to get you all cleaned up
futile devices by sufjan stevens — reunion x mrta bestfriend
art donaldson
24hr dog by fka twigs — switch x foundation employee
american teenager by ethel cain — stanford x tashi!user
icu by phoebe bridgers — atl x ex-teen sweetheart
birds of a feather by billie eilish — husband x f!wife
close to you by the carpenters — sf manipulative x friend
the right side of my neck by faye webster — x regret
softcore by the neighbourhood — pro x long distance at sf
do i make you nervous by lilyisthatyou — flop x t zweig!user
bad religion by frank ocean — divorcee x "paid date"
stud by troye sivan — winston salem x m!rookie tennis player
tashi duncan
oh no! by marina — rival x f!number one tennis player
agora hills by doja cat — stanford jealous x visiting bff
patrick zweig
whats for dinner? by dominic fike — chef x first date
7 summers by morgan wallen — visiting cowboy x city girl
striptease by fka twigs — cheating sub x new dom
iris by the googoo dolls — pining x engaged tashi!user
gunshot glitter by jeff buckley — romeo x juliet nepo babies
crush by ethel cain — spiraling x "i can fix him"
girls feel good by fka twigs — longing x vacay in greece
your wish...command by kim petras — broke x sugar baby
conceited by lola young — #1 x on and off again tashi!user
kiss city by blondshell — pining x maneater
talk to me nice by tinashe — x broke (x2) roadtrip
r u mine? by arctic monkeys — x head on his thigh
nosebleeds by doechii — x cocky married tennis players
no children by jack kays — x thomas+ellen (nosferatu)
hello, my loves! i hope everyone is having a wonderful valentine’s day. remember, today doesn’t have to be only about romantic love (though corporations might argue otherwise)! use it as an excuse to tell the people around you how much you appreciate them—and don’t forget to look in the mirror and remind yourself that you love you, too.
as always, bots are labeled mature. thank you to og thigh anon—i hope it was okay that i made it into a bot. some of you might notice that a few of these are based on our conversations! riff and carmen bots will come after my mini vacay!
stanford abbreviated to sf! users could work as gn! unless stated otherwise. xoxoxo
