#like if you told me i would spend three straight months of my life reading real person fanfic of two kpop idols

[eveninglottie]

.

[tojisteddy]

Acknowledge Me

or: Simon finally gives you attention after you piss him off.

“The power it takes, to make me cry that way. Baby, I hate me when you get under my skin.”

cw: 3.6k words (lord), 18+ MDNI, Toxic!Simon/Meanie!Simon, smut with plot, daddy kink (daddy, pa), dubcon, p in v, dacryphilia, degradation (like hell), water park amusement, pvssy slapping, creampie, marathon!, intoxicated sex, pet names (lovie, doll, pup), overstim, orgasm denial, straight debauchery, after care, y/n visuals.

a/n: acknowledge me by doja cat was the big inspo.

Were you a fucking stupid brat?

Or were you simply itching for attention that you deserved?

If you told your friends, they wouldn’t call you a fucking brat. Stupid? Yeah.

For being with a man who didn’t hesitate to curse you out when you annoyed him. Simon Riley didn’t even flinch when you started hearing those hiccups over the phone, he could already picture your trembling bottom lip, huffed out cheeks and tears forming at your water line. If anything it pissed him off further.

“Don’t fuckin try it with those tears [+]. I fuckin told you, you tell me where the fuck you’re goin. Why the fuck did I have see you move to five different bars in three fuckin hours and you didn’t say a word to me about it till now!?” Simon yelled through the phone.

“You and your dumb ass friends are too fuckin reckless—“

“—Don’t call them that-“ you chided.

“-Oh, I promise you lovie, I don’t give a shit.” his voice with venom.

For fucks sake, it was supposed to be a fun night out and if you were one of your friends, it would’ve been. You and your friends loved bar hopping, enjoying the vibe wherever you went and free alcohol that men and women would order for you. You don’t remember how many bars ago, but your phone died somewhere in the middle and you did spend about five minutes at the last 6 bars trying to find an outlet before your friends dragged you away to the dance floor. That had to count for something, right? You did try to get some form of life on your phone for thirty minutes!

You’d finally gotten to an outlet, right next to the fucking bathroom. ‘15 missed called 4 new messages.’ A string of curses leaving your mouth once you dialed that memorized phone number. And there Simon was, talking to you out the ass while the music was booming in the distance, you had your phone in one hand and a finger in the other trying to hear him properly, the smell of only-god-knows from god-knows-what filling your poor nose all so you could attempt to fix your accidental boo-boo :( — but that bastard had to have you crying in the club.

Like you were thirsty for his attention. you were.

No, none of this was your fault. You didn’t need to update the 6’4, blonde, hunk of a damn brat, when he hadn’t even bothered to contact you in a month.

Yup, the ghost was actually known for ghosting you.

Purposely declining your calls, leaving your texts on read or worse: replying with a ‘k’ when you tried to meet up when you knew (least for the most part) he kept to himself. When he was stationed near by, he was at his own fucking house minding his own business. He was the worst. And the cherry on top?

The fucker had your location on.

You swore he did this to get a rise out of you, to see you teetering off the brink of sanity— and you had to attempt to reel yourself back in every. fucking. time. You weren’t his little plaything, you didn’t need him.

“Don’t fuck with me.” you mumbled, salty tears hitting your mouth. Those would be the last for the night, you swore it. It was like the liquor finally left your heart and went to your brain. Liquid courage.

“What’dyou just say t’me?”

Louder, “I said, don’t fuck with me! I’m sick of your shit Simon!” You snapped. You weren’t an angry person, you’d just hit an annoying wall you needed to get though. The annoying wall called Ghost Riley.

“You always- always come out of the fucking blue ‘nd think you tell me what to do! I’m not a fucking idiot, I know what the fuck I’m doin! Don’t be bitchy at me cause I like to have a little fuckin fun with my friends even when you’ve been ignoring me. Fuckin ignoring me instead of telling me what’s up! The fuck do I gotta do to get you off my dick?!”

“You like the messy shit, Si! You like seein me pissed at you just so you’re the one who has to come and fix it! I can’t stand it. You should go find a bitch who likes that shit because I don’t! I hate how I feel right now and I hate that you can’t be one of those kind boyfriends who’ll come and fuckin hold me nice and shit! Hell, maybe I’ll go find someone to hold me realll nice like since you fuckin won’t!” You spat, nose flaring, you were trembling with rage.

“Pup,” one word. Cut throat. Yanking you right back down to reality. “You take your pretty ass home, ‘nd I’ll go easy on you, yeah?”

You felt your chest rising and falling rapidly, you were frustrated that he clearly didn’t listen to your little rant but you felt your panties get damp. Just a bit. Just like always when you saw a punishment coming. You couldn’t help yourself.

“I-“

“—She’s busy right now please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeeep.” Your friend, Sharon, has snactched your phone out of you hand, quickly interjecting your conversation with the man and hanging up. She hiccuped, nodding her head in satisfaction.

“You can’t spend the whoooole night by this stinky ass bathroom. Let’s go daaaaance, or-or drink.” She giggled, taking your hands. “Or both!” She squealed at her own words.

Fuck it.

You went out with your friends so you could have a good time, and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Simon had such a nice way of breaking you down to your knees, so you were the one sobbing and begging then bringing you back up. He didn’t do it often, he wasn’t that fucking mean, but he did it when you really pissed him off. Simon needed you to understand— you weren’t in charge. He was. The man doesn’t remember exactly what you did to piss him anymore, it had been a long and grueling month for him anyway. But he had to follow through with something because he’d be damned if he had to actually apologize, you being with your idiot friends didn’t help your case. So he threw it in the melting pot of why he had a right to bully you.

The motherfucker couldn’t help himself.

When he entered your empty and annoyingly small studio apartment, he added another mark to his ‘reasons to fuck babygirl up’ list. He told you to take your sweet ass home, didn’t he? And where were you?

He’d make sure the neighbors knew exactly who the fuck he was.

It should’ve been easy for you to check in, no? He worried about your safety above all else, but it always seemed to fly out the window when you were with your friends who were notorious and extreme party girls while you just went with the flow. He didn’t not like them sober, it’s when you went clubbing you, for some reason, would get hard headed, defiant. It pissed him off, which would always lead to an argument. Usually he’d come snatch you up while you were tipsy, you’d have a cry in the car, mumbling something about how you just knew the man didn’t like you or take you serious.

And partially, Ghost didn’t. He brushed your insecurities away at first, thinking nothing of it as you went about your life. But you kept being on edge drunk or sober. So he would be right there, finger fucking you otherwise while the car was still in motion. And maybe you were right, maybe he wasn’t the sweet and soft boyfriend you wanted who’d hold your cute little hand when you made him angry. He wasn’t the type to coddle you, chicken peck your face with kisses when you felt down. Simon Riley was the gruff and overbearing man you needed to set you straight, keep you grounded when the world went to shit.

That’s what your cute little tantrum was about, least part of it was. Simon knew he was distant, you just needed a reminder he was yours and you were his. And only his. You craved him like you needed food, it was obvious to anyone who saw you two together. He chuckled, couldn’t believe you even suggested fucking some other man. As if they could handle you, as if they knew what you needed.

He’d set that attitude straight.

The shower was running when the front door of your flat closed behind you. There’s no way you left it on this whole time, did you? You didn’t remember. The night turned into a long one.

No, you didn’t get black out drunk like your friends suggested. You had another shot or two, deciding to stay on the sober side with your DD. You two did smoke a fat blunt before hitting another club though, that made you feel like you were starting to lose your hearing. But it mellowed you out completely. The anger you felt, all that angst and sadness? Gone like a snap of your fingers. The person who was yelling and crying earlier? Technically it wasn’t you, you just needed a little peace. A little medicinal help.

After singing and dancing as hard as you could, your drunk friends taking blurry photos and videos of you that you’d probably post later, you persuaded them it’d be best to get something to eat and head home around two am. It took thirty minutes to find a convenience store that was open so you could chow down on something, and fifteen to get home. With a basically empty bag of chips in one hand, purse slung over your shoulder like a duffle, a bag of junk food in your other hand, low red eyes and a small smile— you finally got home.

You’d deal with that asshole tomorrow. Or next week— maybe next month if you gave enough of a fuck like he did.

Who knows.

You sat the bag of food on the coffee table, right now the priority was your skin care routine, then eat, then zonk out till 2 pm. You still can’t believe you left the shower and the bathroom light on that was now blinding your eyes but whatever. You’d turn it off as soon as you were done since it was warm due to the slight steam.

Routine, routine, routin— you stumbled over a pile of clothes. Large male clothes— okay, maybe you were in the wrong apartment.

Not your first rodeo.

You’d just slowly back out and try looking for your apartment. No big deal.

But the shower curtain swung open and you tripped over the clothes, falling right on your ass with a yelp.

“Ya can’t be that fuckin drunk, can ya?”

Your eyes darted open, right at the familiar deep cockney accent— Simon Riley was right there in the flesh, water dripping down his scarred and large body, making him dazzle like a God in that fucked up bathroom light.

Now that was blinding.

“Hello? Are ya listenin?”

Oh, he really wanted an answer.

“ ‘M not drunk.” You said breathlessly. Intoxicated? Yes. But not drunk. The shots had worn off ages ago. Hell, maybe your high was too at the sight of this brute.

What the fuck was he doing here?

The blonde ignored the confused look on your face. Taking a towel that sat on the sink and drying his hair. No point in drying off anything else, he was about to sweat.

So were you.

Simon continued on, stepping past you and you quickly got up, following right behind him like a starved puppy. For someone who hated your apartment, he sure walked around like he owned the place. Nude, large cock swinging, and the look of annoyance written on his handsome unmasked face.

He sat on the bed, manspreading nonchalantly. Knowing you were looking at it, your eyes immediately went elsewhere.

“What do you want?” You mumbled out, shifting from foot to foot.

As if you didn’t know what was bound to happen.

The older man laughed, sarcasm dripping down his throat.

“Be good ‘nd strip, won’t repeat myself.”

“Si-Simon!” Your breath hitched once a large hand came down on your ass, once for good measure.

“Who?” He slapped his thick member on your ass, sliding it through the crevice of your cheeks.

“But- but Simon-“ another slap.

“You’re gonna make it worse for yourself, call me proper.” He smacked his cock over your glistening folds. So fucking wet.

“Daddy mmph,” You moaned.

“All this ‘b-b-but’ bullshit from ya. You’ve pissed me off more than enough. You’ll take all of it today.” Simon slipped inside your hole, filling you to the brim even with half of that girthy cock in you. You both hissed, fuck, it was always so good when he was inside your walls. Simon slowly started to rock his hips into you, slowly but surely making sure you took every inch if his manhood had to offer.

It was when he bottomed out, you knew you were in for it. Simon wasn’t talking to you, he forced your head down on the bed, forcing your back to arch further as he thrusted right at your spot. Over and over and over.

“Gonna cum pa, gonna cum.” You stuttered, feeling the pit in your stomach starting to turn.

“No you’re not.”

“—But—”

“I dare you [+]. I know you’d just looove seein how that turns out.”

You hiccuped, tears brimming as Simons pace got faster. You could feel him throbbing inside you but he wouldn’t cave. He was making the both of you suffer over a petty argument— a mistake that in any normal relationship wouldn’t be that serious.

“I- no- anngh— I need to cum—”

“-You don’t need shit you greedy. fuckin. bitch.” He grunted, swatting your ass with every thrust.

The man yanked you up by your tosseled hair, “You had your oh-so lovin Daddy fuckin worried about’cha so you can be safe then when I finally get a hold of ya ‘nd tell you to go home, you ignore me. Threatenin to go fuck some idiot, but he couldn’t fuck you like I can? Can he? Can’t keep you pretty ‘nd upright? Can he?” His hand trailed from your throat to the buldge at your stomach. He scuffed, “now you’re itching t’cum just because I have my cock right here in ya? Fuckin dumb bitch shit,”

“You a dumb bitch?” He asked, making sure you were fucking him back. Ripples forming on your ass with every thrust.

“Noooo.” You cried out, trying to get away but it only made the brute dig into you further.

“What?”

“No sir.”

“Thaaats right princess. You're my smart little girl, listen to me next time. Good on you- fuck— for tryin to salvage yourself.” He huffed.

You didn’t realize your own toes curling at that small praise, your body trembling as you reached your peak.

“Hold it, did you just fuckin cum? When I told you not to?” He growled, forcing you to look at his eyes that were practically red with anger.

“Wait, wait, wait.” You really couldn’t help yourself, you’d been holding it for how long? And you were still kinda high which made you feel the sensations ten fold, Simon was drilling into you like no tomorrow and then he gave you an inch of kindness after being so mean to you this whole fucking time.

Your body unconsciously took a mile.

“Nope.” He yanked you back to lay your back on him, the rest of his drenched length in you, and lifted your leg so it was over your head, legs parted like the red sea. The first smack on your cunt for the night had you screaming, water spraying out.

Simon gripped your chin, forcing you to look down at the mess you created while harshly rubbing your pearl, still thrusting into you from behind, “You wanna act like a greedy bitch and think with your pussy? Then you cum like a greedy fuckin bitch. Cum you dirty pup.”

And he kept smacking down on your poor cunt, unable to stop yourself from cumming and squirting. Completely creaming Simons girthy cock so that a ring of cum formed around the base of his length.

“Daddy I can’t-“ you keened.

The man scowled, “-Shut. the fuck. up. You never shut the fuck up, the only thing I wanna hear is how fucking wet that pussy is. Keep fuckin cummin like a dirty slut you are.”

And you did.

You were wetting the bed like a dog. Water flying everywhere with every thwack of Simons hand on your abused and misused clit. You didn’t even know how many times you had cum by that point. Words? What were those? You wouldn’t even be able to read a street sign or name your favorite color if asked.

You were seeing pure white, the only thing you could hear was the loud squelching of Simon pumped himself in and out of you. He pulled out for a second causing you to whine at the loss of him, but he slipped back into your tight walls, fucking you in a nice missionary.

He gave your face a few light smacks to the face, tutting “Ah, ah, ah, pup, don’t you fuckin pass out. Eyes on Daddy.”

You managed to pry those long lashes open, hooded and lower than they could ever get when you were high.

“Therrrre my pretty girl is. Look so good bein fuckin stupid on my dick doll. This is alllll my girl needed. A good lesson, yeah? Remind ‘er who’s boss, huh?” He smirked, dragging himself down to you so your legs were at your chest.

“Shit baby, feel you squeezing down on me. Wanna cum with me? Missed me given it to ya just like you always need?” Oh, you were crying again. Yeah, you did miss his mean ass.

And his mean beautifully scarred up face, the mean way his muscles flexed when he did anything, his stupid fucking mouth that had to say some stupid shit touching your full lips, his disgustingly sexy muscular yet pudgy stomach with a happy trail touching your stomach everytime he wrapped those arms around you. His massive presence when he stood next to you, mean brown eyes watching while you did your hair, your makeup, or got dressed. Heartless hands that rubbed your neck everytime he didn’t know how to comfort you because that asshole trying his hardest to understand you.

And that undeniably cruel, overly massive cock fucking you like you were the final girl getting a well deserved an award for making it out the trenches in a horror film.

Your head was full with the thought of daddy, daddy, daddy— you shook your head but you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. You hung on to whatever bullshit that man gave you. Only him. Always him.

“Wan- I wan it pa! Wan your cum in me.” you babbled through your sobs.

“Course ya fuckin do. Can’t do shit without me.” The older man crooned. He finally planted his lips on yours, you moaned at just the feel. Pink walls fluttering in ecstasy as he filled you to the brim. Slow thrusts making sure he pumped everything he had into your perfect cunt.

So much for not crying anymore.

The only sound you could be heard in that studio was you cries, like a fucking baby, bouncing off your thin walls. The headboard was finally able to rest, you knew for a fact your neighbors probably despise your being now.

“Why didn’t you- you come see me? I wanted- hicc- I wanted to see you. But- but- you wouldn’t come see me! Wouldn’t even talk to me on the phone,” You sobbed, tripping and falling through your words. “you must hate me.”

The older man rolled his eyes, “Didn’t ever say tha’. How can I hate’cha ‘nd your mine? Doesn’t make sense mama.”

“Didn’t call me though.” You were sprawled out on the bed now, fat tears escaping your eyes. The blonde was sitting on the bed, grabbing the bottled water that he kept in the nightstand, opening it and putting it to your lips to drink. You did, lifting just enough for a bit to go down your bound to be sore throat and flopping back on the bed.

“Was busy swee’art.” Half truth, half lie. Though it was habit, he was trying to keep you in the loop of his life this time. But old habits die hard. The man forgot to reply. His work schedule was fucked, and he was busy spending his free time moving house. The house he planned to give you, it just wasn’t ready yet. Simon was actually being good for you, for once.

“You’re not always busy Si, you just don’t like my annoying voice!” You whimpered.

It took everything in the older brute to not laugh, you were bein so fucking cute. Babbling nonsense but still clinging to him like a lifeline. Still wanting, still his baby girl.

“Told ya, you weren’t annoyin. Got a nice voice, so get it out silly skull.” He cooed, sitting you on your bottom to face him.

You sniffed, moaning and groaning in annoyance but choosing to accept those words. And only those though.

“Fucks sake, Stop it.”

“I caaaant.” You whined, profusely wiping your tears.

“No, dummy.” Simon pushed your hands off your own face, gently wiping the tears with his thumbs that continued to poor out, “Yer gonna throw a fuckin fit if your face ends up bein puffy cause you wipe your tears so damn rough. Take it easy.”

No one knew how to wipe your tears better than the man who created them.

“I wanna make up, you don’t want to?” That was as close to an apology you’d ever get. Always.

A proper Ghost apology was rare as is and you wouldn’t be getting that after your little tantrum tonight. So you ate up what you could get.

“I wanna- I wanna make up too Daddy.” You croaked, dragging out your words. Adorable princess.

“Pfft,” he ruffled your now messy, sweated out hair, “I gotcha.”

“Up you go.” Like a feather, Simon lifted you from the bed, walking to the bedroom you too had been at who knows how many hours ago. He gently sat you on the counter of the sink,

“Let’s get you all ready for bed, yeah?”

a/n: I really love meanie!Simon the most. Let me know what you think about him.

[fuddaroundandgetbueckets]

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: Mild Swearing, incoming combined mommy/daddy issues

WC: ~5K

A/N: Story will be told in the past and present :) This is gonna be fun guys!

A Thin Line Part 1 - The Beginning

Now

The sound of seagulls woke Azzi up.

Peering an eye open, the other half of her face pressed into her pillow, she faintly registered that her window had been left open from the night before. Early dawn sunlight drifted across her room, creating a distorted pattern as it reflected from an array of glass trophies that littered the walls.

She breathed in. She smelled the sea.

Blindly reaching across the nightstand to her side, she clicked open her phone to check the time. 6:37 AM.

She rolled her eyes, groaning further into her pillow as she tugged the comforter across her shoulder tighter against her body. Of course, she had naturally woken up at this time on her off day.

Pressing her nose into her pillow until it was flat and she was teetering the line of asphyxiation, she counted to five as she listened to the nearby low tide rock against the shore.

One.

I will have a good day.

Two.

I am strong.

Three.

I am smart.

Four.

I am beautiful.

Five.

I am the best basketball player I know.

She fisted her sheets at that, forcing herself to get up through what felt like cosmic-level strength. She twisted, sitting up straight on the edge of the king-sized bed that took up the center of her room. Lolling her head side to side, her eyes caught glimpses of Santa Monica pier through the windowsill across from her. It made a small smile play on her lips.

Heaving herself up, she hummed softly as she padded out of her bedroom and to her apartment kitchen. The skylight from above was catching the morning sun perfectly, cascading across her kitchen island like a garnish. She glided across the room, turning on her speaker, and pressing play on some Al Green.

“I’m, I’m so in love with you.”

On off days, she opted against coffee and decided on a cup of tea instead, humming along with the song that filtered through her kitchen.

“Whatever you want to do, is alright with me.”

As her tea brewed, she sat at her kitchen island and absently scrolled her phone. Her call log seemed abnormally large with thirty missed calls.

From her dad?

“’Cause you make me feel so brand new, and I want to spend my life with you.”

Her fingers gripped her phone a little tighter, feeling a looming sense of doom at her father’s name across her phone. They hadn’t spoken in a few months, which was entirely by Azzi’s design.

Was Easter the last time?

“Let me say that since, baby, since we’ve been together, loving you forever is what I need.”

Azzi decided she would get back to him later on, maybe even in a few days. The mental load of a conversation with him seemed too much to unpack at six in the morning. She continued her scrolling to see her tags on twitter had blown up, with so many notifications she couldn’t keep straight what people were alluding to. Her eyes bounced across her screen as she read words like “Such a lousy move by the Sparks…” and “Who do they have running this organization?”

And then, her phone started buzzing. Repeatedly.

“Let me be the one you come running to, I’ll never be untrue.”

Azzi looked down at her phone in confusion at the incessant buzzing, especially at this hour.

Incoming call from Raegan Pebley (GM).

“Ooh baby, let’s stay together.”

-------------------------------

Paige had been up for hours before she heard the news.

It was March in Minnesota, meaning there were more rainy days than anything else. Paige loved the smell of the incoming wet foliage, it reminding her of her younger years running through patchy grass in the springtime. On this particular day, the sun was out with no clouds accompanying it, so Paige took full advantage of her day off.

Before nine in the morning, she had walked three miles with a podcast thrown in her earbuds, had tended to the herbs she was growing on her apartment balcony, and even begun meal prepping for the week per her dietician’s orders.

Around ten in the morning, the notifications started.

At first it was slow, and Paige was used to ignoring the faint buzzing of her phone as she lazed on her sectional watching the news like a true woman in her twenties that had a day off work.

Then, the buzzing grew louder, needier. Her phone was begging for attention. She peered at her call log, noticing its usual one or two missed calls had multiplied to twenty.

All from Tim Fudd, her head coach on the Minnesota Lynx.

It wasn’t odd for him to call; however, the volume was cause for concern. She tried calling back, going straight to voicemail.

So many notifications began rolling in that they became a blur on her phone, causing her to sit up and rub her jaw in confusion. One text came through against the rest from her teammate, Phee.

Her text was a link to an online article, with the title having Paige’s stomach lurching.

Traded: This Spark has fizzled – Azzi Fudd to the Minnesota Lynx.

Then

Paige was fourteen when she met Azzi Fudd.  

It was a Saturday in June; the temperament Minnesota heat was at its peak. Tall, standing fans were placed sporadically across the two-bedroom apartment Paige shared with her dad as they fought the heat, since their A/C unit had decided to die on them the month before. The whirring noise of the fans buzzed in Paige’s ears like flies, and the air was humid enough for the hairs on the back of her neck be slick with sweat.

Paige sat at her dining table with her dad, cautiously pushing a crisp piece of paper toward his plated turkey sandwich.

Mid-bite, he raised a brow and eyed the paper suspiciously. “What’s this, bud?”

Paige placed her forearms on the table and clasped her hands together, the skin already sticking to the faux wood in a way she too aware of. She cleared her throat, “It’s a Work Permit – so I can get a job.”

Her father stared at her for a moment, chewing slowly, before placing an elbow on the table and letting his chin rest on his fist. “You’re too young for that, Paige.”

“The guidance counselor at school told me it’s legal, I just need your signature,” she said quickly, trying to pause his thought process before he flat-out told her no.

He sighed, sounding tired, and it caused Paige to sink in her chair. She knew that sigh, she knew what would follow. The weathered skin of his face looked on at her endearingly, albeit with a hint of sadness.

“It’s going to be a no, Paige,” he said, softly but with no room to argue. “You’ve got other things to focus on: school, God, and basketball. Why do you want a job anyway?”

Paige’s eyes flittered across the room to her basketball shoes that lay by the front door. For a lack of better words, they were…falling apart. The space connecting the toe and sole were coming undone, the once white fabric was a dusty brown, and most importantly – they simply didn’t fit her anymore.

She had grown four inches this summer already, and to wear a size nine shoe when she was arguably a size ten or eleven now felt egregiously uncomfortable.

Her father’s eyes tracked where she guarded her shoes, and he nodded slowly in understanding. “I’ll get you new shoes, bud. You’re getting tall, huh?”

Paige grimaced at his words, “They’re a lot of money, dad –”

“Hey,” he stopped her softly, lightly gripping her shoulder. “Nothing’s too much for my girl. We’ll go shopping tomorrow, alright?”

Paige twisted her fingers in her clasped hands for a moment before nodding, unable to stop the smile that bloomed on her face. “Thanks, dad.”

Her father waved off her gratitude with a nonchalant hand as he stood to put his plate in the sink and began washing dishes. “None of that,” he said over the noise of the faucet, letting out a whistle. “You finish your chores?”

Paige nodded, though he couldn’t see with his backed turned. Knowing that she had in the way parents do without looking, he continued, “Good. Try to get outside before the rain hits, yeah? Kids shouldn’t spend the summer indoors.”

Paige shot up at that, needing no further que to throw on her beat-up shoes and give her father a dramatically rough pat on the back. “Be back by dinner!” she called, already halfway out the door with a basketball under her arm.

Stepping out onto the overgrown lawn of the front of her apartment building, the stifling heat of the thick air and high sun hit Paige all at once. She raised a hand over her forehead, trying to search where she locked her bike as she gave polite smiles to the two elderly women in lawn chairs across from her. Ms. Smith and Ms. Carter shared a unit under the one Paige lived in with her dad, being anywhere from their late sixties to seventies – Paige thought it would be rude to ask. The pair would often come over for a game of cards while her dad cooked them dinner and ran Jeopardy for them. Seemingly unrelated, Ms. Smith had a flurry of white hair and pale skin, while Ms. Carter wore a blonde wig that complimented her ebony undertones. They had lived together as long as Paige had known them.

“Hi Ms. Smith, Ms. Carter,” she waved as she walked over to her bike, “Y’all need water?”

The women shared a smile, waving her off, with Ms. Carter responding, “No, honey, we’re just fine. Why don’t you find a lake to jump into? It’s hotter than Hades.”

Paige laughed, beginning to mount her bike, “I’ll try.”

As she rode away, she faintly heard the women discuss, “The sweetest girl. Always got a ball in her hand, though.”

-

Paige rode her bike all the way to the next town over. By the time she found a suitable court to practice on, she nearly threw her bike on the patchy grass and laid there for a moment, panting. Her back was slick with sweat, the wisps of her hairline sticking to her forehead. Propping herself on her elbows, she eyed the crisp rims and clear backboards of the empty court.

Now she remembered why she crossed town to shoot around. For this – an unadulterated and pristine basketball court.

Standing up with a new zest of energy, she twirled the ball on her pointer fingers before heading into a dribbling drill, eyeing the houses that surrounded the court several feet away. She was in an upper-class neighborhood, closer to Minneapolis then where her and her father lived. High, steel fences lined their yards, each with their own sprinkler system misting so much it travelled all the way over to Paige through the light wind. It felt so good, Paige smiled to herself before quickly stopping, feeling like a lunatic dribbling a basketball in a neighborhood she didn’t live in, surrounded by grass that was greener than a highlighter.

She dribbled up and down the court like she had something to prove – which she did, to herself. The one thing in her life that was for certain, was that she loved basketball and she was good. Paige considered herself a humble person, but it was simply facts that she could shoot from anywhere on the court with major accuracy, and strategically enough to cross anyone up. A few months prior, during her middle school basketball season, the high school coach had seen her play and called her up to practice with the team. Not only that, but varsity. Her dad had been so proud, he nearly cried.

(He did cry. Paige pretended not to notice, for his sake).

The high school coach had looked her in the eyes and said, “You’ve got it, kid.” It made something course through her veins, and she realized she’d never wanted anything more; she wanted to be the best women’s basketball player to ever play the game. With their spotty and unreliable cable, Paige hogged the TV every night a WNBA game aired, transfixed by the likes of Diana Taurasi and Sue Bird. She studied the game, with a mock playbook resting under her bed at home. She lived it, breathed it.

If she put in the work, she could get scouted by a college coach, maybe even go to college for free, declare for the WNBA draft and –

“Yo.”

Paige paused from her position to shoot a free throw, looking over her shoulder to see a tall light-skinned boy walking across the court. He had a ball loosely being held under his arm, his clothes and shoes looking brand new.

Paige broke her stance, turning fully to acknowledge him. “Hey.”

“I’m Thomas,” he walked up to her until they were only a few feet apart. “I saw you shooting from my window over there,” he pointed to a large white house at the top of the hill at the end of the street. “Never seen a girl shoot like you. Want to play 1v1?”

Paige squinted at him though the harsh sun, passing the ball languidly in between her hands as she considered his question. They appeared to be the same height, both with lanky builds and arms too long for their bodies. But mostly, she liked his welcoming smile and eagerness to play.

“I’m Paige,” she said, attempting a friendly tone. “And yeah, I’m game.”

His smile widened, opting to toss his ball to the grass and play with Paige’s as she began dribbling around him. “I’ll go easy on you,” he said light-heartedly.

Paige snorted, “You don’t gotta worry about that.”

They played well together, and Paige decided Thomas was half-decent at basketball. He got a few shots on her, but definitely unable to trip her up. Her footwork was faster than his, her range was farther. Thomas noticed.

“Damn bro, where do you play? I’ve never been outshot like this,” Thomas laughed as he scooped up the ball that had rolled off to the grass from one of his missed shots.

Paige’s hands rested on her hips as she waited for him, panting, “I’m over by Hopkins.”

Thomas paused at her words. “Hopkins?” He eyed her bike laying in the grass near them. “What is that, a thirty-minute bike ride?”

Paige nodded, motioning for him to continue the game, “Something like that.”

“Damn,” she heard him mutter under his breath as she stole the ball from his hands, running to the opposite end of the court and making a layup.

The game trickled on, with Paige only making it semi-close because she thought Thomas seemed nice and he had made a few jokes that got a laugh out of her.

Paige had a three-point shot in the air when she heard the first crack of thunder above her.

Deep in their game, the pair hadn’t noticed the grey clouds that had rolled in above their heads, providing an ominous overcast. When they looked up at the booming noise, Paige’s eye was met by a droplet of rain, and then another, and another, and –

“Oh shit!” Thomas yelled out over the sudden torrential downpour that pounded them. He ran to gather his spare ball while Paige ran to her bike thinking crap, crap, crap because of course she was twenty minutes from home with only her bike as a mode of transportation in a rainstorm and was that hail?

“Are you crazy?” She heard Thomas yell behind her as she began to mount her bike. “You can’t bike all the way to Hopkins fucking Minnesota – my house is right there.” He started turning towards the hill before she could argue in response, and it took her a millisecond of getting pelted by small rocks of hail to follow him with her bike and basketball in tow in a hurried pace.

Partially blinded by the rain, she stayed close behind Thomas as he led her closer and closer to the big white house he called home. At closer inspection, it was probably the largest house Paige had ever seen; the steel black fence at the front gate reached well above her head, and the front door yard was lined with blue hydrangeas and spiral columns. It she hadn’t just been pelted by a piece of hail in the forehead the size of her fist, she would probably take some time to appreciate the architecture of the home more.

Thomas walked them through the front gate which required a passcode, and Paige was silently floored at the fact that her and her father kept their apartment keys on an extra shoe tie in comparison.

Rounding the corner of the house to the garage, Paige tried her best in her bleary state to avoid the carefully curated flowers and perfectly manicured lawn. Thomas punched another code in for the garage to open, and suddenly they were under the safe cover of the inside of the garage, panting slightly. Every crevice of Paige’s body felt wet, and without looking she knew her hair must be knotted, and her face must be flushed.

“Shit’s crazy,” Thomas laughed, walking over to lean Paige’s bike and ball against the wall. “C’mon, let’s chill inside.”

A part of Paige faintly remembered the saying “stranger danger” as she followed Thomas through the connecting mudroom door and into his home, but decided his energy was far too friendly to ever kidnap her and throw her in a ditch. Fingers crossed.

Thomas’ home was just as grand on the inside as it was on the outside, with ceilings that reached stories Paige didn’t know was possible in a suburban home. The spiral columns from outside continued inside, and the floor was a checkered marble that she had only seen in magazines. The turned a corner and landed in the living room that was decidedly the size of Paige’s entire apartment, holding a U-shaped couch that could probably fit twenty people. Complicated artwork adorned the walls, with a large fireplace and TV at the center. Paige tried to keep her eyes from bulging.

They walked into the kitchen, where Paige was made acutely aware of her mud-covered shoes. It was pristinely white – white cabinets, white marble flooring, white island at the center of the room. It felt slightly sterile, and Paige felt like an insect in her sweaty clothes and crusted over footwear.

A tall, dark-skinned man stood leaning over the island with as he watched the weather report on a small TV in the corner of the countertops. The man turned his head at their entrance, Paige realizing Thomas completely took after them as they looked identical.

“Was waiting for you to run back in,” the man laughed easily, giving Thomas a pat on the back that Thomas swatted away as he pulled open the fridge. The man turned to Paige solely then, sticking out a hand, “Thomas’ dad, Tim Fudd. You go to school together?”

Paige didn’t have much experience shaking hands, but she tried her best to grip Mr. Fudd’s hand firmly with a shy smile. “I’m Paige. And, no sir, I live in Hopkins.”

Mr. Fudd’s eyes widened at that, rubbing at his chin in curiosity. “Hopkins? What’s got you all the way out here?”

Thomas turned then, gripping two large Gatorades and handing one to Paige. “Paige can hoop, dad. I bet she could give Azzi a run for her money.”

Tim’s eyebrows rose further up at that, waiting for Paige to answer expectantly as he leaned over the island once more.

Paige toyed with the lid of the Gatorade bottle. “No courts with rims near me, sir.”

Thomas and his dad stared at her for a moment, taking in her words. Tim hummed, asking slowly, “So, you’re good?”

Thomas interjected before she could respond, “Pretty sure she was letting me win, dad.” Paige smiled sheepishly, finding solid eye contact with a cabinet doorknob next to Mr. Fudd’s head.

“That’s interesting,” Tim nodded, crossing his arms. “For context here, my boy is sixteen and on Varsity on the St. John’s. If he’s saying you’re good, you must be really good.”

Paige took a big gulp of her Gatorade, slightly shocked she was about to beat a boy two years older than her.

“And for further context,” Tim continued, “I’m the head coach for the women’s basketball team at UofM.”

Paige thought time stood still in that moment. She had just played against, and had been beating, the son of the head coach for University of Minnesota’s women’s basketball team. And now she was in their home, drinking their Gatorade.

“Oh,” she choked out. If there were ever a time where she would dramatically pinch herself, this would be one of them.

Tim smiled in a way that Paige knew was meant to reassure her. “You in AAU, Paige?”

Paige swallowed, “No, sir. My dad and I are thinking next spring.”

Tim nodded slowly, understanding what Paige wasn’t saying out loud.

That she couldn’t afford the club costs at the moment.

Thomas took a large sip of his Gatorade before tilting his head towards the door out of the kitchen. “We should keep hooping; we have an indoor court in the basement.”

Paige thought her eyes were about to pop out of her head. “An…indoor court?”

“Yeah, in the basement,” Thomas replied easily, like repeating his words was a normal thing to do.

Tim nodded enthusiastically, clapping once, loudly. “Yeah, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Just when Paige’s already felt her heart beating at an unnatural pace, the next thing she knew, one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen walked through the door – and everything turned to slow motion.

The girl was light-skinned, like Thomas, with a heart-shaped face, the biggest doe eyes Paige had ever seen, pouty lips, height to match Paige’s, and coyly hair thrust haphazardly in a bun. She was the kind of pretty that was subtle at first, and then so obvious and so sudden and so in your face that it was hard to look anywhere else but at her. For the first time while looking at a girl, Paige felt a flush rush to her cheeks that she wanted to scratch off.

The girl stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Paige standing awkwardly near the center of the kitchen and paused briefly before pointedly looking at her Paige’s feet.

“Your shoes are muddy,” she said.

------------------------------------

When Azzi was thirteen, she met Paige Bueckers for the first time in her white marble-covered kitchen.

She was freshly showered, wearing an oversized St. John’s basketball t-shirt and shorts, poop emoji slippers adorning her feet.

Rounding the corner with her earbuds in, she looked up in time to see a gangly blonde girl talking with her older brother and dad. She paused briefly, taking her in.

The girl was pale, with light blonde hair that reached well past her mid-back. It hung in wispy knots around her face that looked like they would be a pain to brush out later. She was tall, maybe even taller than Azzi, who had grown three inches this summer already. Her face was clear, and she had high cheekbones with a defined jaw. But most of all, Azzi noticed her eyes. They were ocean blue and looked more serious than anyone’s she had ever seen. It made her look older, intimidating in a way Azzi hadn’t felt before.

Azzi’s eyes traveled down the length of her body, landing on the muddy basketball shoes that rested on her feet.

“Your shoes are muddy,” she blurted out before she could stop herself, ultimately feeling like a dunce as she watched the girl’s face fall.

“We got caught in the rain, idiot,” Thomas said walking by her, pushing the side of her forehead with two fingers. She shoved his shoulder back, eliciting a deep sigh from their father.

“Guys,” Tim said resolutely before turning motioning his hands towards the door. “Thomas and Paige were going to hoop downstairs. Want to watch, Az?”

Paige.

Paige’s eyes locked with hers, and Azzi felt her mind go momentarily blank. Paige was lanky, like her brother, and she looked like she was ten pounds underweight. It was hard to imagine her going head-to-head against Thomas.

She blinked, turning back to her dad. “I just showered...but I’ll watch.”

-

The group found themselves at the Fudd indoor court, where Azzi could tell, Paige was trying to act normal about everything. Her dad had had it installed when Azzi was in the sixth grade when she had started showing intense amounts of potential in basketball, to her parent’s delight. Her dad, being the head coach for women’s basketball at UofM, and her mom who had played in college before tearing her ACL her senior year.

The court was slightly obnoxious, Azzi could admit, with the wood being an ostentatious black, and the saying “Fudd Around and Find out” sporadically painted across the walls. But it served its purpose when the dreaded Minnesota winters rolled in and the Fudd siblings had no desire to leave home.

Azzi had grown up around basketball, following after her parents and her older brother. She found that she even excelled at it, with basketball being something that came as naturally as breathing. She could shoot with precision and could be a menace defensively when needed. She played on her middle school team for fun, but the real competition for her was in AAU, where she dominated against girls older and bigger than her. In the quiet of the night as they would get ready for bed, her mother had even slipped that she was the best Fudd to ever play the game, and that was saying something.

So, while standing courtside next to her dad, she watched carefully as Paige and Thomas played against each other. More so, she watched Paige.

Paige’s shoes were too tight, she noticed right away. But she also noticed that she commanded the ball effortlessly, and in a way that was almost graceful. She found Thomas’ weak points easily, faking him out at least ten times and shooting a three over his head.

“She’s good, Az,” Her dad murmured next to her, not taking his eyes off the court. Azzi nodded wordlessly, mirroring him.

In a sudden move, Paige dribbled the ball between her legs and behind her bag, grinning widely as Thomas fumbled to the side. While he was down, she shot at half-court, a clean swish echoing throughout the court.

Paige caught Azzi’s eye, still grinning, as she went to help up her brother. Azzi thought she looked nice when she smiled.

“You were going easy on me earlier, weren’t you?” Thomas grumbled, plopping down with all his weight on a nearby bench against the wall.

Paige dribbled in circles around the court, smile unmoving from her lips. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Azzi watched her, looking so confident and carefree on the court. It was a deep contrast from the shy, awkward girl standing in her kitchen thirty minutes ago. It had Azzi’s feet walking onto the court on their own accord, meeting Paige in the center.

Paige turned to her fully, breathing heavily as her smile grew smaller, much like the space between them.

Azzi slowly grabbed the ball out of Paige’s hand, dribbling in front of her. Paige’s eyes travelled to the slippers that still adorned her feet. Wordlessly, she raised a brow in question as they locked eyes.

Azzi answered by shooting where they stood at half-court over her head, smirking as Paige’s jaw went slack at the pronounced swish that echoed around the room.

What happened next could only be described as a dance. Paige and Azzi played against each other like they had known each other all their lives, with Paige wildly amused by Azzi’s clinical style of play and Azzi’s completely entertained by Paige’s fluidness. At one point, Paige pulled off a jump shot that was so outrageous, Azzi actually let out a laugh, and she loved the grin that made its way onto Paige’s face. Neither girl was keeping track of the score anymore.

They played like this for what felt like hours, but in reality, was probably only thirty minutes. They only stopped at the sound of Tim Fudd’s loud claps from the side of room. He grinned widely at the two girls, looking entirely amused, stopping to turn to Paige.

“Paige,” he said, “Call your dad. We’re getting you on an AAU team.”

[all-my-love-for-harry]

❧ Almost Eden (part one)

pairing; jake seresin x childhood friend!reader

word count; 1.3k

a/n; part one is here!!! i'm so excited for you to meet these characters, this is mostly backstory about bambi and jake and the future parts will be longer, but don't worry, there is some good stuff coming!! let me know what you think <3

series masterlist

August, 2006.

Seventeen-year-old Jake Seresin stood by the kitchen door, watching his mother rearrange a flower bouquet the size of the marble island it was sitting on. She loved flowers and took special care of her greenhouse in the east wing of the house.

"Marigolds?" He finally asked, pushing himself off the wall and getting closer to her mom, his fingers delicately brushing the top of the bouquet.

Mrs. Seresin hummed. "Straight from my garden. Stunning, don't you think?"

"They're beautiful. What's the occasion?"

"Don't tell me you forgot about tonight." Disapproving eyes landed on him. "We have dinner at seven o'clock, Jacob. Darling Bambi's birthday, remember?"

"Oh, yes. I remember, but I'll have to miss it."

"Oh my, why? And don't tell me you're going to a party."

"Mom," Jake groaned, straining the word as he threw his head back. "Don't start, please."

"I just don't understand why you would blow off your friend's birthday dinner! You two were adorable as babies."

"It’s weird, all right? We were never friends. She’s just the kid who’s always there, like a shadow I didn’t ask for."

"Don't be rude, Jacob." His mother shook her head, incredulous at her son's words. "I expect you to be there on time."

Without another word, she left the kitchen, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor being the only noise in the house. Jake rolled his eyes, already dismissing what Caroline Seresin had just said.

The truth was, Jake didn't mean to sound harsh. He actually didn't mind spending time with you; sure, it was a little odd to hang out with a twelve—sorry, freshly thirteen— year-old. After all, you've known each other since you were born.

Four years, nine months, and twenty-six days. That’s how much older he was. It was enough to matter. When you were little, it didn’t—he played with you, laughed with you. But once he got to high school, things changed. Not suddenly, and not with any big goodbye. He just started drifting—found friends his age, his world—and you weren’t part of it anymore.

[...]

Jake didn't make it last night. In fact, he almost didn't make it to his own home. The party he went to was full of pretty girls demanding his attention and, well, who was he to deny them of it?  When he got home around three in the morning, his mother was long asleep, so now he was lying on his bed, trying to nurse his hangover without any help, so he wouldn't have to face her disapproving look.

Well, fuck it. Jake thought as he forced himself off the bed. He'd told his buddies he'd meet them in a few hours, and that meant facing his mother sooner rather than later. So he got ready for the day while he silently hoped her mother had gone out and was not waiting for him.

They were picking him up, so all he had to do was get out of the house and walk down the trail toward the gate of the property. Mrs. Seresin wasn't home, just like he had hoped. However, there was someone else waiting for him on the other side of the gates, and it wasn't any of his friends.

There you stood, dressed in clothes that were ironed to perfection, probably by your nanny, as Jake was certain your mother had never touched an iron in her life. Your face, he couldn't read. There was a hint of disappointment aimed at him in your gaze, yet your eyes sparked with a little hope upon noticing him. He said your name, walking closer to you as if nothing had happened. As if he didn't bail on you last night on your birthday, and last week when you invited him over to go horseback riding.

"Hi, Jakey." You finally said, a little smile forming on your still baby face. "Your mom said you'd come last night."

"Yeah, sorry. I had a p—uh, it was nothing. Happy birthday, Bambi." He said somewhat apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Do you want to come over? My nanny said we would make cookies." Her tone was cheerful like everything was water under the bridge to her. He liked that about her, always had. She never held grudges and never demanded any explanation from anyone who wronged her because it did not matter.

He opened his mouth to reply, to give in and say yes, of course, he'd spend time with her, it wouldn't kill him to go bake some cookies to make her happy, to make it up to her. But a loud horn cut him off, followed by the whistles and hollers of his stupid friends.

"Wow, Jake. Didn’t know you were into daycare work now!"

"Shut up, Aiden." He rolled his eyes, suddenly annoyed his friends had spotted him with you.

"C'mon, dude. We snagged some cold ones from Carlos' dad's liquor store unless you prefer juice boxes and naptime." The dark-haired boy behind the wheel snorted, clearly enjoying poking at Jake.

"Can we raincheck?" He said softly to you, hoping they wouldn't hear.

"Actually—," Another horn.

"Sorry, Bambi. I gotta go."

"Wait, Jake." She took a few steps, trying to reach for him but he had already begun to walk away.

"Oooh looks like someone's got a little crush on Jake!" Another head poked from the car's window.

"She's a child, dumbass." Jake hissed at them before turning to you, now clearly annoyed as he mouthed your name once again. "I can't do this right now."

"But I just wanted—"

"I said no, kid. Jesus—are you seriously this dense? I'm not your friend. You still play with Barbies and cuddle a stuffed animal at night, and I'm currently nursing the worst hangover of my life. I was trying not to be an asshole, but you clearly don't get subtle, so let me spell it out: leave me the fuck alone."

Jake didn't know why he said that. Really, he didn't know why those words left his mouth, and he immediately regretted them as he saw the instant tears forming in your big doe eyes, your hand dropping to your side as you stopped trying to reach for him. But despite the guilt pooling in his stomach he still turned around and got in the car, leaving you alone on the sidewalk as they drove away.

He told himself he'd go find you later, probably by the horses in your family's land, and he'd apologize to you. Because, yes, he cared a lot for you. No matter the age difference there was a time when you were attached to the hip. He figured he had some time to cool off and get his shit together before he went to you.

"Did Bambi come by the house today?" Hours had passed and Jake was once again sitting in the kitchen when his mother appeared.

He stopped chewing. Now, he wasn't an idiot, he wouldn't give her a reason to yell at him for being disrespectful even though he deserved it. But her tone was normal, curious even. He knew for a fact you didn't tell on him, or else his mom would've entered the kitchen in a less friendly way.

"Uh, yeah. I couldn't stay with her though. But I was thinking of going over to her house later."

"She didn't tell you?" She furrowed her brows, her line of gold bracelets clicking on the marble as she took a seat next to him.

"Tell me what?"

"Jake, honey, she's gone."

No way. "What do you mean gone?"

"Her mother got her into boarding school. Her flight was today."

"Boarding school?"

"Yes, boarding school. Sweetie, I thought you knew. Didn't you go ride with her last week?" He said he was going to go but that might have just been to get out of going to church with his mother, but she didn't know that.

"She didn't mention it. But she can't be gone, mom. Before I left her this morning she invited me over, before I—" Oh, God. "She’ll be back for the holidays, though, right? They wouldn’t send her that far... they couldn’t."

"I don't think so, the school's in Switzerland, honey."

Fuck, he thought he had more time.

[bbydoll18xx]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

Paige Bueckers x reader

KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.

Word Count: 1.7k

Themes: angst, maybe some fluff?

This is heavily inspired by my love life, so yes, please feel free to feel bad for me thanks xoxo

~

“And oh, my god, he was so fucking stupid,” you exclaim exasperatedly, your longwinded rant having no ending in sight. “Like you’re literally in college and you can’t even hold a basic conversation? And don’t even get me started on his fucking mustache,” you add, gagging dramatically for good measure.

Hands were flying in the air as you spoke, and the girls of UCONN’s women’s basketball team listened amusedly as you complained about your latest failure of a date. You had promised yourself you’d get back out into the dating world after your two year relationship with your high school sweetheart had ended, but that was nearly three years ago. And now that you had gone through every stage of grief and were now (mostly) mentally stable again, you had begun dating to find ‘the one.’ 

However ‘the one’ seemed to be hiding among the frat boys and useless idiots you had been spending your friday and saturday nights with for the last six months. And you were quickly growing tired of their bullshit. 

“And then,” you dragged out the word theatrically, leaning forward to the group of girls listening, “he told me he wanted to do a line of cocaine off my ass! Like who even says that?”

The girls erupt in a fit of giggles and gasps, disturbed by your most recent date. 

You shake your head in mild embarrassment and place your head in your hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” you sigh, trying to avoid Paige’s stare. 

She was always staring, as if she could tell what you were thinking. And to be honest, it freaked you out because if she actually knew what you were thinking, you’d be in some deep shit.

You had feelings for Paige from the first day you had met her, and the battle was certainly an uphill one at that. A little voice in your head whispered mockingly that the reason you had been going on all these dates was to distract yourself from the harsh reality that Paige was just a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And it really fucking stung. 

KK cuts through the silence, placing a soothing hand on your back. “I know what to do,” she says with a knowing smile. You meet her smirk with a confused look, wondering what the younger girl had in mind. “Let’s go on live and find you a boo!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together.

The other girls erupt in laughter at the idea, nodding their heads in agreement. The only one who is uncharacteristically quiet is Paige, who has a funny look on her face. Her nose scrunches slightly, and because you had spent years memorizing every part of Paige, including her moods and facial expressions, you would almost say she looked pissed.

Glancing back over to KK, you let out another long sigh, throwing your hands in the air defeatedly. “Sure, why the hell not?” 

She whoops excitedly, grabbing her phone and propping it up on the table in front of where the two of you were sitting. She clicks on the live, and it was not long before hundreds of people were flooding in with comments. 

“Hey, y’all!” KK greets the fans with a small wave and a huge grin. You try to hold back a grin of your own, but her excitement was infectious, and you felt grateful that your friends cared about fixing your sham of a love life. 

“We’ve got a special guest tonight,” KK explains, and you wave shyly at the camera. You typically did not love all the attention, and you tended to stay in the background when the other girls would go live. 

“Okay, so boom, we are looking for a date for my girl over here,” KK begins, explaining the situation to the people on the live. “Serious inquiries only!” She adds, wagging a finger towards the camera. “She is precious, and some of y’all are straight up freaks.”

You giggle at her words, trying to read the comments. Many of them we’re trying to gauge your sexuality, and upon reading another ‘is she gay’ comment, you decide to clarify. 

“I’m bisexual,” you murmur shyly. It had been nearly 6 years since you had realized you like girls, yet you still struggled with enunciating the fact. 

“Oh girl, they love you,” KK sings, patting herself on the back for her idea. “How about if y’all have some talent, join the live and woo my girl.”

Paige has since moved from her chair opposite you to sit next to you on the couch. Her leg is pressed up against yours, the warmth of her body radiating onto yours, and you bite your lip. 

“Yeah, yeah Paige is here. This ain’t about blondie today,” KK scolds the fans. “Now I want to see some good talent.” 

You turn your head to look at Paige, and she rolls her eyes at KK. “KK, don’t be mean to them,” she laughs, waving to the live. 

In your head you’re thinking that you honestly can’t even blame the fans. Paige was hot. You wanted to see her too. 

KK lets in the first girl, who upon seeing Paige, shrieks and throws her phone onto the carpet of her bedroom. You laugh, and KK lets out a huff of annoyance, deleting her immediately and moves on to find another person.

“This one seems promising,” she mutters, and you play with a piece of hair nervously. Being in front of the camera felt ridiculous, and you wonder how you got yourself into this situation. You are quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another young girl, desperately trying to serenade you and the other girls with a song. You try your best to avoid cringing, but the performance left you with bad secondhand embarrassment. 

A whole twenty minutes pass before someone promising pops up on the screen. A girl about your age with long dark hair and piercing green eyes is waving flirtatiously at the screen, causing you to sit up a little straighter. Next to you, Paige stiffens, and your eyes flit to her on KK’s phone, jaw clenched in a way that has your stomach rolling. You look down and notice her hand was closed in a fist, the other picking at a piece of lint on the couch. 

You avert your eyes back to the girl who was still smiling widely, and you make casual smalltalk with her, feeling warm from the attention of a pretty girl.

Comments are flooding in, and while you’re glad to see that many of them are about what a cute couple you and the mystery girl would make, you also notice an influx in comments regarding how mad Paige looked.

Before you could look over to check on her, she was flying off the couch and stomping out of the room. You hear her door close loudly, and you meet KK’s eye with a confused look. Paige’s departure has the fans going wild, and you whisper to the younger girl that she should end the live. 

“Okay, y’all, we gotta go. Feel free to DM her, though,” KK tells the dark-haired girl with a devilish grin, and she signs off quickly.

“What the fuck was all that about?” you ask no one in particular, eliciting shrugs from Aubrey, Ice, and Jana. 

“She’s been moody all day,” Aubrey says casually, and you pout, thinking about your best friend who was clearly unhappy about something.

“I’ll go check on her,” you mutter, heading towards the closed door of Paige’s bedroom. Standing in front of it, you take a deep breath before knocking.

“Come in,” you hear her mutter, and you enter the dark room, the only light shining from the tv and reflecting off the glassiness of Paige’s eyes. 

You sit on her bed next to her, placing a comforting hand on her thigh. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, not wanting to spook her. She rarely opened up about the way she was feeling, and you did not want to rush her into admitting anything if she wasn’t ready.

She shrugs, quickly wiping at her eyes, and your heart nearly crumbles at the sight. You rub soothing circles onto her leg and reach up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. The intimacy of it all is almost overwhelming, and you bite your bottom lip to keep in the feelings bubbling inside of you, threatening to expose everything.

“Just tired,” Paige mumbles, and you peek at her face, studying the beauty of her features. 

Your phone lights up in your hand, alerting you to a DM you had just received from the girl from the live, and you attempt to hold back a wide smile at her boldness. Paige looks down at your screen as you text the girl, Scarlett, back with a giddy expression. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” she says coldly, already moving to get under the covers. 

“Want me to stay?” You ask hopefully, trying to sound casual. Sleepovers between the two of you had become a cherished ritual, and you needed the simple proximity to make you feel whole again. 

“Nah,” she replies flatly, eyes closed and back turned in harsh finality. 

“O-oh, okay. Well, goodnight,” you stutter, temporarily stunned at her poignancy, and you flee her room with your head hung low in rejection.

“Is she okay?” KK asks. You don’t even know how to answer that.

“I have no clue what her deal is,” you mumble. “She’s never not wanted me around, so I think I’m just going to go. I’ve got a girl to get to know,” you add, trying to make yourself feel better.

“We’ll let you know if anything happens,” Ice responds kindly, and you nod gratefully in her direction before you take your leave.

You ignore the anxiety as you walk back home, instead focusing on the flirty messages Scarlett was sending to you. ‘This is what I need,’ you think. Paige was never going to be yours, and now you finally had a real chance at getting over her. 

With your head held high, you vowed that your feelings for Paige Bueckers would disappear. But would they really? Time could only tell. 

~

Part 2

Part 3

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you would be interested in a second part to this!!

[kooktrash]

Could I please request a drabble for the bunny adventures couple? It was the first fics of yours, that I ever read and I hold it close to my heart

this one is so niche to my beginner readers peak but yes I’ll do it even tho I feel like hybrid fics are dead 😭if yall reread the original fic it was NOT my best yall im sorry. also unless yall said 18+ in request I’ll most likely not include any nsfw

1k wc

bunny adventures | jeon jungkook drabble

want more requests? look at my request masterlist in Navi!

Life with Jungkook has had its ups and downs. Like every relationship there are times where you need space from him [especially him being overly clingy], and other times you would prefer to stay in bed with him all day. He’s a lot of maintenance and has his own problems from the past but he’s put a lot of trust and growth in himself. He’s become more sure and secure with who he is and where you stand.

Sometimes he’ll get overwhelmed over the littlest things but it didn’t take much from you to calm him down. Lately Jungkook has taken on a bigger role with Hoseok and the tattoo parlor so his days have been longer. He’s been staying at the shop a lot lately where he’s made friends with other hybrids and people, no longer feeling as hostile to others as before. It’s something you’re happy about but you’ve been missing him around. He used to welcome you after work every day and cling to your hip but he’s been busy with himself.

“What time does Kook get home? I want to try out the new VR headset he got,” Jimin said, rolling around on the floor out of boredom while Yoongi typed away on his work laptop.

“Not sure, he should be home any minute though. Just go use it,” You told him pointing to the extra room that once belonged to Jungkook before he invited himself into yours every night. Now it’s just used as a gaming room and a small library for you. Your boyfriend rarely uses it because he’s too focused on following you around everywhere but when he’s home alone or has Jimin or Taehyung over they’ll spend some time gaming. Jungkook had gone on and on about what you got him for his birthday a couple months ago and has been begging him to play but Jimin’s too busy. Now that Jungkook is the busy one and Jimin is free, it still seems like they haven’t been able to hang out as often.

“Are you kidding? You know how possessive he is over his things!” Jimin groaned, “Tell him to hu—“

The words weren’t fully out his mouth when the front door swung open with a grumpy bunny stomping inside. The three of you looked at each other with visibly confused expressions when Jungkook went straight to your bedroom not bothering to greet anyone.

“I don’t you’re paying tonight, bud,” Yoongi said to Jimin as he tried closing out of his Microsoft doc, “He seems moody.”

“Hold on, I’ll go check if he wants to,” You tried telling them so they wouldn’t feel rushed to leave just because Jungkook seemed upset about something. It’s not that you all felt the need to tiptoe around but Jungkook has gotten a lot better at controlling himself and he’s been through a lot so you can’t help it. Yes, he came from the same facility as Jimin but Jimin is aware he didn’t have it as bad as Jungkook all his life.

“Kook,” You knocked on the door to let him know you’re coming in and went inside. You found him on your shared bed hugging your pillow looking so close to falling asleep, “Everything alright?”

“Tired, lay down with me,” Jungkook said lifting an arm up to try and bring you in to him.

“I can’t, Jimin and Yoongi are out there. Jimin has been waiting to game with you,” You said sitting on the edge of the bed, “You don’t want to go out there and at least say hi?”

“Not tonight, it’s been a long day I’m sorry,” Jungkook said with a groan, “Tell him to go play by himself.”

“Jungkook!” Jimin whined from outside the door and it didn’t last long before Yoongi was pulling him back.

“Come on, we’ll try again tomorrow,” Yoongi pulled him by the end of his shirt, dragging away Jimin with a new promise, “We’ll try again tomorrow! Bye Y/n, bye Kook!”

You looked at your boyfriend who scrunched his nose with a sniffle, pulling on your arm to get you down on the bed. With a small sigh, you chose to give in to his needs and let him wrap himself around you in a hug that nearly suffocated you. Since the start of your relationship Jungkook had gone from a cold, distant bunny hybrid to one overly clingy boyfriend.

“What’s wrong?” You asked trying to sneak your arms out to hug him back, fingers running through his hair for comfort.

“Nothing, I tried doing this design today and I didn’t like the way it looked at all,” Jungkook said with a small pout, “And I’ve been coming home later and later and you leave earlier than me so it feels like our time keeps getting cut shorter and shorter. I love having the guys over but sometimes I just want to come home to you.”

“You always want to just come home to only me,” You teased and this time his nose scrunched with a smile.

“You’re right, and tonight especially I just wanted my pretty girlfriend to snuggle with me,” Jungkook dug his face into your neck trying to rid you of Jimin’s scent and coat you in his own. He loved your lavender smell and when he’s at work he keeps a sweater of yours there that helps calm his nerves. He’ll need to switch it out soon with something that had a stronger scent.

“Alright how about this,” You comb his hair out of his face, “Well, call it an early night and tomorrow I’ll see if I can go in later only if you promise to hang out with Jimin or Taehyung after work.”

“How about we both take the whole day off tomorrow?” He pulled you closer, cheeky grin on his face when you gave him a stern look, “Half a day? Can we meet up for lunch too?”

“Let me think about it, go get cleaned up and I’ll see what we can order for dinner,” You told him already trying to free yourself from his tight hold but he didn’t let up.

“Join me, I’ve missed you so much.”

“You see me everyday, Kook.”

“Is not enough,” He groaned.

::.

ok listen yall this fic had been buried so deep in the file cabinet in my head I felt like this trying to remember

It might not be everyone’s cup of tea but oh well 🤷🏽‍♀️ it was requested so I shall deliver

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @ily4jknity @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @aindrila @cherrymoonlight t @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpoplover @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife

[otherhearted-culture-is]

Hey hey! I'm kinda struggling to figure out my identity :,) can you help me?

I'm pretty sure I'm an alterhuman, I've always had a very strong connection to nature, especially animals. I think I'm animalhearted. As a kid, I absolutely adored dogs. I used to pretend to be one all the time. (My mom told me I once went three days straight insisting I wasn't a human 💀) like- that's gotta be a sign for something, right?

But you see, over time, I've kinda lost that like... Idk how to describe it. That connection? I still like dogs, just not as much. I don't pretend to be a dog anymore, and haven't in years. Without a pet dog, that connection just.. Faded

I've been doing quads for about half a year now, yk, just for fun. But as of like maybe 4 months ago I keep getting these weird like, idrk how to describe it. These like bursts of energy that feel almost like they're not me. I'm still in full control, but that's not coming from me. That probably doesn't make any sense, but yeah. I don't want to call them shifts cus I have absolutely no idea if that's what they are, and they're not super often.

I'm thinking I'm probably doghearted? But now I'm wondering if I'm a dog therian? Idk, I mean I like the dual souls thing, I feel like I have the soul of a dog along with my human one. But I'm having a hard time figuring out if I'm actually a therian or if it's just shifting disease, cus I haven't really experienced this my whole life, and it's only after doing research did I start questioning. I've never really had species dysphoria either. Idk, what do you think? It's probably just shifting disease right? How am I supposed to tell the difference between identifying with vs. as?

Thank you for reading <3

(Sorry this took a while to get to! If you already sorted this out on your own, feel free to ignore this answer.)

There's a few things to address here:

1. Some fluctuation in the intensity of a hearttype or kintype is normal. Though this is extreme fluctuation that also neatly coincides with outside factors, so that's probably not it, I feel it's still worth at least mentioning.

2. I hadn't heard of shifter's disease before I got this ask. It was difficult to find information on, but I did manage to find a definition and a couple of forum posts further detailing the phenomenon by asking around on Discord. I'm not a big fan of the name tbh. I know the comparison it's drawing, but it still feels like over-medicalizing it. But whatever, that's the existing name, so I'll use it. Anyway!

To check for this, I would suggest trying to keep your mind off both alterhumanity in general and your own potentially alterhuman experiences as much as possible for a while. Stop researching, don't spend time mulling over it, and step away from any alterhuman spaces you're active in. You should be able to deduce by whether or not your feelings persist through that whether or not it was shifter's disease.

3. Last but not least- how do you tell the difference between ID'ing with vs. ID'ing as? Ever a tricky one. Corv's otherhearted questioning quick guide has a section dedicated to exactly that question, so it will probably be helpful to you! (But yknow, probably wait about it.)

[reigningqueenofwords]

Movie Marathon

Pairing: Steve x Reader Word count: 1,196

Read on AO3

Part 10 of Looking for the Captain

Wanda kept you company while you changed. Once you left to train with Nat, the pair of you went your separate ways. Not wanting Nat to know what you were really feeling, you simply decided to act mad. It wasn’t hard to do, either. Part of you was livid at how life had taken such a drastic turn. While you loved all the Avengers, and were thankful for them, that didn’t change the fact that you were in danger, your mother was in the wind, and your life would never be the same. Who wouldn’t be upset?

After the stretching, and the cardio, you and Nat got into the training part. At this point it was more sparring with her correcting your form at times. You went into it full force, ignoring the feeling of Bucky’s eyes on you. You knew he wasn’t happy with this. Yet, he was the reason that you were even there. He sent you to them. Would he rather have you at home, or possibly dead at this point?

Bucky watched, easily able to see that something was bothering you. You had a look on your face that made it obvious, and you were going at Nat like you wanted to take her down. Had Steve done something in the short time between the three of you getting back to the tower and you joining Nat for training? 

Clenching his jaw, he walked out. “JARVIS, where is Steve?” 

“He is in his room, sir. Shall I tell him you are asking for him?” 

“Tell him I’m on my way.” 

Steve was surprised to open his door to an angry looking Bucky. “Buck?” He stepped aside, letting him in. “What happened?” He asked, confused.

“You tell me.” He glared. 

“I’m confused. We got home, and I came straight up here.” He told him. “Was I not supposed to do that…?” Did Bucky ask him to do something, or meet him somewhere?

Bucky looked confused at that. “You didn’t say anything to Y/N?” He asked. 

“No, I haven’t seen her.” 

“Something’s bothering her.” He sighed. “She’s training with Nat right now and she’s going in . Like, it looks like she’s trying to take her out.” He shook his head. “I wonder what happened.” 

Steve shrugged. “Maybe she’s just getting really into training? She isn’t the type to not do her best.” It was something he really liked about you. “I’ll see if she wants to watch a movie later and talk to her.” Maybe you were just stressed? 

Bucky groaned, sitting on a chair. “I want to ask her what’s going on, but right now it just feels like just basic stuff is safe. Anything beyond that? I’m worried I’ll push her further away.” 

“Something is better than nothing. If it’s something serious, I’ll let you know.” He promised. 

“No, you won’t. You won’t want to break her trust. Which is important.” He shook his head. “Just help her work through whatever the hell is bothering her?” He asked. 

“Of course.” He agreed instantly. “Hopefully sparring with Nat will help get it out of her system. Actually, I have an idea.” He grinned. “I’ll send you out to get her favorite food, snacks and drinks. I’ll set up a movie with blankets and stuff. This way she can relax, and you can also get used to hanging out with her.” 

“You think she’s gonna want to spend time with me?” 

“When you show up with her favorites? Yes.” 

After your shower, you made your way to the dining room, but JARVIS stopped you. “You are not dining with the others today. Mr. Rogers has asked me to have you meet him in his room.” 

“Oh, okay. I’ll be right there.” You honestly looked forward to not seeing everyone. You adored them, but you weren’t used to always being around people. Even if you’d been there a couple months, it was just now starting to wear on you. 

Steve opened the door for you moments after you knocked. “Hey, come on in. Food will be here any minute.” Bucky had texted he was almost back at the tower. 

“Awesome.” You smiled. “Are we watching a movie with dinner, or just eating?” You wouldn’t mind either. 

“Come on. I set up a movie.” He hoped you liked his pick. 

You were surprised. “Final Destination?” You chuckled. “Excellent choice. Did you know that there’s supposed be a 6th one coming out? I can’t wait!” You were clearly very excited about it. 

Steve grinned, glad you were pleased. “Why don’t you get comfy?” He motioned to the couch when he heard the door. 

“Want help with the food?” You offered. 

“No need.” Bucky said as he came in. “I got it.” He was carrying two large pizzas, bags with food, and you saw both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. “I heard we’re having a movie marathon!” He grinned, hoping you didn’t mind him there. 

“You want to binge watch five horror movies with me?” You asked the two of them. “I get it’s not nearly SAW level, but still.” 

Bucky nodded, moving around you to put things down. “I don’t see the appeal of them, but they make you happy. I want to learn what you like, and spend time with you as your friend. That starts with this.” He said, sounding a bit shy. But when he saw your face, he knew this meant a lot to you. 

“Yay!” You beamed. “Okay, I’ll get glasses and ice for those drinks.” You rushed to Steve’s little kitchen to grab them. They shared a glance, knowing that they’d plan another night like this in the future. 

Bucky had to do a double take halfway through the third movie. You were fighting sleep, curled up against Steve. “How about we have a nap, and then pick up the rest of this movie? Or should I go make coffee?”

“Coffee!” You yawned. “Wanna finish this one at least.” You told him. “Then nap, then we can watch four and five.” You told him. 

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “If you don’t sit up, you will fall asleep.” He teased. “Why don’t you go help Buck and I’ll get some of this stuff cleaned up.” He pointed to the coffee table before pausing the movie. 

You dramatically sighed, making Bucky chuckle and shake his head. “How about we make a run? We can get some from that coffee place you like down the road.” He offered. 

“I’m in my pajamas.” You pointed to your attire. “Although, I think this is Sam’s shirt.” You noted, just realizing it. “Whoever does the laundry likes mixing other people’s shirts in with mine.” Sitting up, you stretched your arms over your head. “We can just make coffee in the kitchen. Oh, I can turn it into a coffee milkshake.” 

“Sounds good.” Bucky agreed, standing up. You seemed to be in a much better mood. “We’ll be back, Stevie.” He motioned for you to follow. While he still didn’t like the idea of you and Steve, he had to admit that Steve seemed to have a relaxing effect on you. That meant a lot to him. 

[tjswritingstuff]

March has ended!

It was a pretty good month.

While most of the writing I did was for class my total word count for the month was 11080 words.  

I finished reading three books this month:

George Orwell’s Animal Farm

Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaids Tale

Toni Morrison’s Beloved

Two of the books that I finished were for class. I’m currently reading five other books; my current reading list has never grown this fast in my life. I started paying attention to the days read counter on my kindle app. I read (in the app) 18 out of 31 days.

I only went to the gym 3 times this month, I had a surgery on March 12th, and it limits what I’m allowed to lift. While that doesn’t affect everything that I could be doing at the gym I know myself well enough to know that I would break the rules just a little and end up hurting myself.

I did end up in the hospital. After my surgery I was prescribed Hydrocodone and Acetaminophen. Turns out that I am allergic to Hydro’s. The general response to that discovery has been, “have you really never taken them before?” I did. About 20 years ago…and I ended up in the hospital then. About 20 years ago I was bitten by a brown recluse spider and had a nasty spot come up on my arm, my doctor prescribed me some pain killer I took it according to orders and ended up passing out. My ex-husband took me to the hospital, where they immediately acted like I had overdosed and wasn’t taking it correctly. When I insisted that I was they did some blood work and then told me that my potassium levels had completely bottomed out. I believed for many years that was the reason that I had ended up in the hospital. The hospital put into my chart that I’m allergic to hydrocodone. But they didn’t TELL me that. Since all my doctors that would prescribe painkillers are linked in the same hospital network, they all have access to that information. No one ever prescribed me it, and I honestly don’t like taking stuff anyway. If Tylenol works just fine, why take anything stronger?

I went to get an augmentation surgery through a doctor that is not linked to that network. He asked about allergies. I didn’t know of any. My pain meds were prescribed 2 every 6 hours for pain. I was taking 1 every 8-ish hours depending on how I felt. My liver started shutting down. I discovered this after about a week when I woke up throwing up. I was bloated. At my post op checkup, I was told that swelling is a normal side effect of the surgery. Did you know that swelling is a side effect of liver failure? I do now.  My kid’s dad found me half conscious on the bathroom floor and when I tried to stand up, I was shaking too much to walk.

Guess who got to spend a night in the Emergency Room hooked to an IV. I guess the good news is it happened during spring break, so I didn’t have to worry about getting homework done.   

My lowest grade is an 82%. While I am a little disappointed with myself for not hitting Straight A’s this semester, I’m not going to complain too much. Currently my grades are:

Astronomy – 87.86

Astronomy Lab – 87.65

Creative Writing – 96.84

Transatlantic Lit ’45- Present – 82.81

History of American Peoples – 87.32

World Lit Beginnings – 650 CE – 94.14

My goals for April are:

Write 15,000 Words

Read 5 Books

Maintain Grades

Gym 2x’s Week (when I’m cleared to go back)

Draw more.

I feel like my life is moving in the right direction, I have some things that I still need to work out, but I feel like I’m starting to figure things out.

[openingpandorasbox1]

DELETING PEOPLE OFF FACEBOOK (Part 4)

One day she wrote me a message in the group about her daughter and I wrote back within the week. She told me she was depressed because her daughter said something to her and that her boyfriend agreed with her. They said something negative about her. I wrote back and gave her support, I’m not sure what was said. At the end of my reply, I let her know what was happening in my life. Going through a difficult time, depression and my relative who I was close to was rushed to hospital and I’ve been visiting him in hospital every day. Even though I had a lot going on, I still took time to reply to her message because I knew she was depressed and needed a friend. In groups you can see if someone has read it, and Facebook indicated she had. She never replied.

Five months later, after not hearing from her she wrote me a message (under the last message I sent her). She never responded to anything that I wrote, nor cared. She’s always polite, it’s always ‘How are you, what have you been doing?’ it doesn’t matter what I write back because it will be ignored and it will be about what’s going on in her life.

She wrote a message, so I thought this time I won’t reply to her straight away and just got on with my life. A few days later she wrote back to enquire why I haven’t replied to her message after three days. She goes six months without acknowledging my existence and ignores my messages but she gets upset with me if I don’t reply to her straight away.

So, I replied, said hello, supported her with her problems as always. I didn’t hear from her since. That was in September 2016, 8 months ago. So thought ‘fuck it’ and I deleted the group. Occasionally she will send me a Happy Birthday message, but sometimes I don’t even get that.

                I understand people are busy, but everyone does. I know people who are busy with their lives, but they still take time for the people they care about. They don’t go out of their way to ignore people on purpose.

                Autumn was a good friend to me, when it comes to contacting me and spending time with me. She out of all the others. We would text, communicate online and LIKE each other’s posts and we had similar hobbies online. We both liked making pages, and into films etc. We liked people who interacted with us. Autumn had issues in other areas though, which caused problems.

                Judy is online a lot, but she rarely posts and rarely posts about what’s going on in her life. She’s very mysterious. If something is wrong, she won’t tell anyone. She sort of goes in hiding when something is wrong. That’s how she handles problems. She LIKES and contacts me every blue moon, not all the time but every blue moon. I don’t mind that. We are both there for each other, not all the time but we are there.

                I have a lot of Facebook friends who I’ve had on my Facebook for years. When I first joined Facebook, I added all these people with the same name as me, LOL. I don’t know why, but they seemed like nice people. I also added people from history groups and music groups. I like people who talk about things like music and cool things, so I’m always up for new friends who are into things that I’m also interested in. It’s hard to meet people like that in real life. I just love those people on Facebook who have time for you, who are there for you, and are just cool.

There are good people out there, and sometimes you only get a handful on Facebook. But I respect those people, and I care about them. I’m there for them and they are there for me. Not all the time, but enough. I don’t need attention 24/7. I’m happy with someone caring a few times a year, that means more to me than nothing.

[gothicgaycowboy]

an extra hand

relationship therapist!Eddie Munson x f!reader x husband!Steve Harrington

word count: 5.5k

summary: after being married for three years you and Steve have been struggling with your relationship (particularly the physical side) and decided to get an expert in the mix.

Warnings: 18+ no minors, a threesome (duh), sub reader, m/m action, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, daddy kink, one spank, very inappropriate use of a therapist, pull out method, slight marriage angst, mentions of bisexual reader, no use of y/n.

A/N: this is very briefly proof read because I wanted to get it out before I go on my vacation, so sorry for any mistakes I may have made. hope you enjoy<3

Steve was the perfect boyfriend. He adored you like no one else had ever done before. Taking you out on romantic dates almost every week, looking after you when you were sick, and most importantly he got along well with your friends.

When you had first gotten together you remember them warning you of the reputation Steve had, of course you defended that he was no longer that person. You were so grateful to have met him after his whole ‘King Steve’ phase had ended. He often repeated the phrase to you that if he were ever to return to his old ways you had his full permission to slap him.

The more your friends watched you together the more supportive they became. Even going as far as placing bets on when the wedding would be. And as it would turn out it was much sooner than they imagined.

After a mere two years of dating Steve proposed. You had spent most of the day in bed, soaking in the sunlight that peaked from behind the curtains when it hit him, he needed to ask you now. Steve could never be sure what it was about that day, but something about watching you lie peacefully in his arms just told him he didn’t want to spend another moment without you as his wife.

Those were the days.

If only you knew how soon things would begin to go downhill.

It started out with the wedding planning. Since Steve had been busy picking up extra shifts at work so all the planning was left to you. Everything was so expensive and you definitely didn’t have enough money to hire an actual wedding planner to do it all for you. The day that was said to be the most important of your life was starting to look like the most stressful, and with no Steve to rely on you spiraled quickly.

After 2 straight months of watching you stress Steve decided to intercept, insisting you just skip out on the whole traditional wedding and elope instead. Thus your first big fight was born. “Elope…? Elope, Steven?” You only called him Steven when you were pissed. “You think I’ve spent two months picking through affordable venues, dealing with your family who hate me, and researching what flowers go with what themes – with no help from you by the way – just for you to decide it’s too much and want to suddenly elope?”

He could almost see the anger radiating from you. “Hey, now you know that is not fair. I would be here helping you everyday if I didn't have to work.” Steve tried his best to sound calm despite feeling defensive.

“I work too Steve,” your voice began to raise, “Seven hours and then I come home only to work more so that we can have this stupid wedding!” You could feel your emotions getting the best of you and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“Oh so the wedding is stupid now, huh? Then why don't we just call it off then!” The words left Steve's lips before he could even think twice about it.

The brunette boy watched as your face morphed from anger to sadness. “W-what?” your voice shook.

An instant wave of regret washed over him. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry I didn’t mea-” he was cut off by you.

“Fuck you Steve,” You ran off to your bedroom before Steve could stop you, locking the door behind you.

Your fiance waited outside the bedroom door for 3 hours, knocking occasionally to see if you would respond but the only thing he could hear was your sniffling. Nausea bubbled in Steve's stomach knowing that he was the one who made you cry. He was supposed to be the one to comfort you in moments of turmoil, not make them worse.

Four hours later you finally realized you needed to leave your room, if not to hear Steve out then to at least use the bathroom. Opening the door you saw him huddled down where the door once was. As soon as he noticed the wood was no longer holding him up he stood to come face to face with you. “Hi,” your voice was barely audible.

Steve almost began to tear up to see that you weren’t making eye contact with him. “Hi baby, can we sit down and talk, please?”

You nodded your head briefly, “Sure,”

Following behind Steve you took a seat on the brown leather couch across from him. “I just need you to know I didn’t mean what I said at all. I got defensive when you called the wedding stupid and I know that doesn’t excuse what I said in the slightest but I was upset and when I'm upset I tend to say dumb shit without thinking. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you and I really am fucking sorry sweetheart.” Steve rambled but you could tell by the crease of concern in his eyebrows he was being sincere.

“So does that mean you still want to marry me?” your voice waved with insecurity.

Your fiance's eyes softened at your words. He reached for the hand that you were fidgeting with in your lap, taking it into his own. “Are you kidding me baby? I want to marry you so bad it makes me look stupid – well stupider than I usually look.”

A smile broke free on your face at his joke. “You’re not stupid Stevie,” you crawled closer to him, nearly seated in his lap. “You should know that by now.”

“Well I guess I can’t disagree with the smartest woman I know,” he teased.

You caved to his cheesy one liner, pulling him into a hug. No matter what happened it always felt good to be completely surrounded by him. Your fiance.

Steve murmured his next words into the crook of your neck, “You know I only suggested eloping because I was worried about you, right? I know you have been working really hard on the wedding planning but I just hate seeing you so stressed.”

“I know, I’m sorry for getting so defensive about it.”

“No, hey I get it, you don't need to apologize. Whatever you want to do I will support you one hundred percent.” His hands moved to massage up and down the expanse of your back.

“Y’know what,” you exhaled, pulling out of the hug. “Fuck it let’s do it.”

Steve's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Do what?”

“Let’s elope, screw the big fancy wedding. As long as I have you I’m the happiest woman in the world.”

Steve smiled softly at you, wrapping his arms around the back of your neck. “You really mean that?”

You leaned in, your nose meeting Steve’s. “Of course I do.”

Tucking yourself into bed that night your mind was finally at ease thinking that would be the end of your problems– at least for a while. But in reality that was just the start of it all.

It wasn’t like your relationship transformed into a brawling cage match all of a sudden. You had your honeymoon, which consisted of spending time locked away in Steve's family cabin christening every surface of the house with sex.

You lived in bliss for a few weeks before it was clear that was not how your lives would stay. Moving in together created more problems than anticipated.

Steve wasn’t a complete slob but he definitely didn’t live up to your standards of cleanliness. It was also abundantly clear he grew up rich, never bothering to think about washing dishes or dusting unless you asked him to. He did learn eventually that there was no magic being living in your cupboards to do these things for him and start pitching in which you were thankful for. But this was small potatoes compared to everything else.

You two had never been adults together. Technically sure you started dating at the age of maturity but that didn’t make you adults. You both lived at home with part time jobs and friends you still hung out with from high school. You had responsibilities but not enough they took over all your free time, now you were lucky if you had enough time to sit down and have dinner together. Paying for rent at your own place meant full time jobs and almost none of your days off matched up.

Worst of all you started to feel neglected, and not just romantically. You understood how busy and exhausted you both were after a long day, and the last thing you needed was a night on the town, but your sex was starting to feel stale. Steve never failed to get the job done but it really was starting to feel like a job. You didn’t experiment and anytime you suggested something new he either shot you down or said he was too tired for all that.

You began to wonder if maybe this was all your fault. Were you not sexy to him anymore? Did you need to try harder? Maybe buy some new lingerie with money you couldn’t afford to spend? It felt like you two were a sad old married couple in your early twenties. It was pathetic.

All these things mixed together felt like too much a boulder to carry around with you forever so you decided to share your solution with Steve. “A shrink for sex?”

You exhaled aggressively through your nostril at his tone. “Do you really have to say it like that? First of all it’s a sex and relationship therapist, they help with all kinds of things, not just sex, and second of all I’m just saying things have clearly changed around here for the worse and it wouldn’t kill us to get an outside opinion.”

You could see the cogs turning in all the wrong directions in Steve’s mind. “So I’m not good enough for you anymore is that it?”

“How is that what you take away from all I’ve said?” You had to fight your voice from getting louder. “We can’t even agree anymore on how to get help, that’s how much we need this.” Steve’s shoulders shrunk down, the look of frustration was replaced by a sadness in his eyes. You walked over to wear he was seated on the couch, reaching to pull his hands into your as you sunk down onto the floor below him, making eye contact with your husband.

“You can’t say you haven’t noticed it too. I love you Steve, more than anybody has ever loved anyone, but everyone needs extra help sometimes and for us I think the best thing to do would be to get it over with now rather than wait for it to ruin all that we’ve worked for.” Tears started filling your eyes at the truth in your words. That was your real fear, losing Steve forever.

His head nodded lightly, rubbing the skin of your right hand with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry I know, these past few years have been shitty to both of us. I just feel like going to get help is just going to make me feel worse, like this is all my fault.”

“Oh Steve, that’s exactly why we need this.” You shook his hands lightly in your own. “I've been sitting around blaming myself for all our problems and the only way to stop thinking this way is by getting a professional to help us.”

Steve exhales with defeat.“You’re right. I don’t wanna risk losing you over all these little things.”

Ease filled your body at his agreement with your proposal. “Thank you.”

A few moments of silence passed by, each of you wiping away tears and rubbing your noses.

“This guy isn’t gonna ask me the size of my dick or anything, right?” If there was one thing Steve was great at it was lightning the mood.

“No Steve, I don’t think a trained professional is going to ask you how big your dick is.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want him to feel emasculated by me or anything.”

You rolled your eyes despite the giggles falling from your lips. “Alright, don’t get cocky now.”

From your spot in the comfortable waiting room chair you took in the sight of the walls which were decorated with pastel abstract paintings. You had never been to a therapist's office before but from what you’d seen in movies and tv it was pretty standard.

The night after your last argument you both sat down and flipped through the phonebook, looking at all the possible options for couples therapy before settling on this one, Munson and associates. It was a relatively small office with five separate trained professionals and you found out that Dr.Munson was the one who specialized in couples/sex therapy.

“Mr and Mrs Harrington?” The pretty receptionist called making both your and Steve’s head turn. Your husband pulls your hand into his lap. “He’s ready for you.”

Initially you were a bit hesitant about having a male therapist, worrying he would side with Steve about everything and leave you in the dust, but you realized this was a profoundly stupid thought. There were no sides to take, and just because he's a man doesn’t mean he will only agree with your husband.

The office was located at the end of a long hallway. Entering the doorway you were barely able to comprehend the decor before you were distracted by the gorgeous man sitting in a large leather chair seated opposite a couch made for two. His hair was shoulder length, long brown curls cascading all the way down to his perfect jaw. Big brown eyes surrounded by round, thin, silver framed glasses. He was wearing a white button down shirt (it looked one or two sizes too small to you) and black slacks that showed off the massive bul –

“Baby? This is Doctor Munson.” Steve cut off your train of thought. Steve, your husband, who you love. God, what the hell was wrong with you?

You shook yourself out of disgusting thoughts long enough to notice the man you were previously ogling had stood up to shake your hand. “Sorry Doctor, I must still be tired. It’s nice to meet you.” You reached for his open hand.

He laughed it off, returning the handshake with a firm grasp. “That’s alright, and please just call me Eddie.” You found yourself being sucked into his soft gaze. You didn't know anyone could have bigger puppy eyes than Steve. “Take a seat.” He extended his arm, gesturing to the couch on the opposite side of the dark wood coffee table.

Your body moved without you guiding it, shrinking into the brown leather, thigh to thigh with Steve – your beautiful Steve. In all your years together you had never been compelled to leer at anyone else, Steve had taken up one hundred percent of your attention – even through your recent rough patch, so what the hell was so special about this guy?

Eddie pulled out a small notepad from the desk next to him. “So, tell me what brings you here?”

“Long story,” Steve starts, “Basically we've been married for three years now and things are all just piling up on us. We haven’t had really good sex in months.”

“Steve!” You chastised his bluntness, cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

“No this is helpful,” Eddie chimed in, scribbling notes with his pen. “Go on Steve, what do you mean by really good sex?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, it just feels like there’s something missing lately.”

You let out an irritated huff at his words. “I’m not taking the blame for that one. I’ve been trying to suggest different ways to spice things up and he always shoots me down like it’s the worst idea he’s ever heard.”

“Please speak to Steve when addressing your concerns you have with him.” Eddie corrected, it sent a strange tingle down your spine the way his tone changed.

“I never said it was your fault,” Your husband rubbed at his temples. “And I don’t say no because I think they’re bad ideas, I say no because I’m exhausted.”

“Then maybe don’t fuck me when you’re exhasted Steve! It’s like I’m a goddamn chore for you to take care of before you pass out.” The all too familiar expression of guilt passed by your husband's features. “How do you think that makes me feel, hm? Like shit Steve.”

“This is good! Steve, how does what your wife says make you feel?”

“Not fucking great.” He admits. “I don’t want to be the reason you feel like shit but I just have gotten it in my head that if I don’t do it I’ll be neglecting you or something.”

“That’s not the only way you can neglect me, ya know…”

“Would you care to elaborate on that?” Eddie asked.

“We just never get to spend any time together anymore — and don’t talk about work because you know it’s more than that. I’m trying, okay? I have been trying but at this point I just feel like a burden to you.” You bared your soul to your husband in front of a complete stranger. “Do you even find me attractive anymore?”

Steve turned to face you only. “What kind of question is that? You are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. Of course I’m attracted to you!” He defended, face growing red. “I just…I feel like you always want more than just I can give you and it makes me feel selfish for keeping you to myself.”

Shock washed over your face like a crashing wave. “W-what? Why haven’t you ever said this before?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was trying to find a way out of this. I know you better than anyone and that means I can tell when something is off. You can’t tell me you haven’t felt it too, there’s something missing now and I think it’s another person.”

The pace of your heart picked up rapidly. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You want us to fuck someone else?”

“Would that really be the worst idea? I’ve noticed out of all the ways to spice things up you never bring up threesomes, I know it’s because you think it’ll hurt my fragile ego but also because that's what you really want. Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t. Though you’d never had eyes for anyone else while you were together that didn’t mean the idea of a threesome never crossed your mind. Cheating on Steve was never an option, but fucking someone with Steve? That was a whole other ballpark.

You and Steve were both very open about your sexual preferences when you first met, being the first person each of you confided in each other about your individual bisexuality. There would always be certain things one of you couldn’t do for the other because of your gender. It’s not like either of you had a big chance to explore these things before you got together – you even less so than Steve.

You shook your head at his question. “I still want to be with you more than I want to bring someone else in our relationship, but I won’t lie and say the thought never crossed my mind. I just haven’t found anyone good enough to warrant bringing up the question.”

“You think I didn't notice the way you were looking at Eddie when we walked in here?” Your cheeks warm with his allegations. Were you really that obvious? Before you could defend yourself Steve spoke up again. “It’s alright, I was thinking the same way you were.”

You could feel the damp patch in your underwear grow wetter at his words. “Really?”

“Not something I’d joke about.” His voice was sultry and smooth, it was the same tone he used in the bedroom.

You glanced up to gauge Eddie’s reaction, fearing he might be uncomfortable with you and Steve objectifying him like he wasn’t even in the room. His grip tightening on the arm of his chair, face flush with heat, eyes darkened and glued to where your husband sat. He liked it. He really liked it.

Your gaze wandered back to Steve, eyeing up the therapist with a glint of mischief on his face. “What do you think Doc?” His hand landed on your thigh, caressing the bare skin under your skirt.

Time slowed like molasses running through an hourglass. The clock on the wall of the office taunting you. Tick, tick, tick. “I think it’s my job to make sure your problems are dealt with in any way necessary, and if this is the way you think will help I’m happy to oblige.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. This had to be some kind of sick dream. “Wait, hold on. Isn't this illegal?” Sure you were turned on but not enough to get someone locked up for.

“Considered highly unethical, yes, but not illegal and it’s not everyday I get two incredibly attractive clients asking me to have a threesome. Besides if this is really what you want I can recommend you a separate relationship therapist that way we won’t be doing anything ‘immoral’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He stood up from his chair, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. “Now, do we want to continue discussing the ethics of this or is one of you gonna get over here and help me deal with this?” The bulge in his slacks had grown noticeably since the session started.

You and Steve rushed over to the other side of the table taking your respective spots kneeling down in front of the therapist. Eddie smirked down at the two of you, his hands cupped both of your jaws to direct your eyes to him. He looked between the two of you assessing you, like he was trying to answer a question. Eddie undid his belt slowly, tugging open on the button on his slacks. “I think you should go first sweetheart, show your hubby here how it’s done.”

You were at a loss for words at the sudden change in Eddie's attitude. His dominant side showing through in a way you had never seen Steve’s. Turning your head you looked to Steve for approval, it was clear as day. You nodded dumbly up at Eddie, like a puppy waiting for a treat.

“Good.” He freed himself from the confines of his pants completely. Bare skin now visible to the both of you. Although Steve had the most perfect cock in your mind Eddie had to be the closest second possible. Thick and long from top to bottom, throbbing vein pulsing right down the middle and the prettiest shade of pink. What caught you off guard was the shiny metal barbell pierced through the tip. You needed to know how it felt.

“Don’t waste my time here baby, you know what to do.” Never one that needed to be told twice you moved upright, hand gripping the base of his cock to pull into your waiting mouth. You grazed the tip against your tongue, taking in the taste first – fresh and clean. Circling your tongue around the metal piercing you toyed with it. “Yeah, fuck,” at the sound of Eddie’s groan you became more eager to please, tugging him further into your mouth.

“So well trained, hm?” He glanced towards Steve whose mouth was now gapped at the sight before him. “You teach her all this big boy?” When the words finally seemed to compute Steve nodded. The sound of you working away on Eddie’s throbbing cock filled the room. “So generous of you to share.”

You knew what Steve liked when you were blowing him: focus on the tip, wrap your hands around what you can’t fit in your mouth, be slow and steady about it etc. But you considered this a time to experiment. What was the point of this if you weren't going to try something new? Your hands reached up to cup his heavy balls as you continued deep throating the rest of him. Eddie gasped at your actions. “You trying to make me cum already? Bad girl,” He yanked your hair, tugging you off him completely. You groaned at the loss.

“Gotta let your hubby have a turn don’t we?” His hip pushed towards Steve’s face, cock dripping with your spit. “Give it a try big boy.” Your husband might have been more eager than you as it turned out. He wasted no time crawling to the hard member and shoveling it towards his waiting mouth, licking around the shaft until he was brave enough to suck the rest of it in. You never thought watching your husband suck cock would turn you on so much but here you are. Your hips moved at their own accord to the slick sounds, rubbing your clothed cunt against the carpeted floor.

Eddie’s hands roamed into Steve’s silky locks tugging him down till his face met the base of his cock. Your husband gagged around it but still continued his previous movements. “Shit, quick learner,” The therapist moaned. Like a reflex you reached out to rub Steve’s hard-on through his jeans.

“Looks like someone wants attention, pretty boy,” At Eddie’s words Steve pulled off him, hands taking over what he couldn’t use his mouth for.

“You feeling neglected over there baby?”

You put your best puppy eyes on display. “Yes daddy,” You whined.

Eddie let out an enthusiastic sigh at the name. “Christ I didn’t know you two got down like that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about us.” You giggled.

“Get to the couch.” Eddie ordered with a devious smile on his lips. Both you and Steve practically jumped across the room. Sat on opposite ends you waited as patiently as you could for further instructions. “Now, take off each other's clothes.”

It wasn’t so much a taking as it was a tearing. You weren’t sure how exactly you were going to come out of this office looking half as put together as you walked in but in the moment you couldn’t care less. Clearly Eddie was enjoying the view.

“God, you're both so desperate for this.” He gripped his cock in his hands with emphasis. You and Steve mewed at him. “Baby I want you on your stomach over the edge of the couch — yeah that’s it, push your ass out for us, and you daddy go put her nice little mouth to use.”

Once you were both in position Eddie made his way over to the couch, shedding his clothes as he came closer and closer, keeping you on the edge of your seat. He kneeled behind you rubbing his hands across your bare ass. “Fucking beautiful.” He smacked the fat, making you jolt.

“I don’t mean to keep you waiting Stevie I just gotta get a taste before we get into this.” He dove head first into your pussy, spreading your lips apart with his fingers, sucking at your clit.

“Fuck!” You squealed. “So fucking good, oh my god—” Your gaze fixed on Steve as you praised Eddie. He looked down at you hungrily, cock leaking in front of you.

“Why don’t you give him a hand darling?” You followed Eddie’s advice, licking your way up to the precum covered head. Eddie continued his assault on your cunt as you sucked Steve off like you knew he loved.

“Always so good to me,” Steve growled. You lit up at his praise like a Christmas tree. Nothing felt as good as Steve’s appreciation.

Just as you were getting into the rhythm of it Eddie stopped. He cut off your half formed complaint. “It’s okay sweetheart, I’m gonna give you something so much better.” His cock rubbed against your wet folds.

“Yes, please,” you begged, mouth still partially stuffed with your husband's cock.

“I won’t make you wait for it.” With that he thrusted himself inside you in one smooth motion making you cry out in pleasure at the full feeling. You had become accustomed to Steve’s size over the years so taking Eddie was easier but it still was quite the stretch. His balls slapped at your clit as he began moving inside you.

His hands pulled at your hips forcing you to meet his every movement at the same pace. As you bobbed your head up and down Steve’s length, his hips began moving on their own. You were stuck in the middle of the world's hottest Eiffel Tower.

You’d never felt more in sync with anyone the way you had with the two of them in that moment. The sound of skin slapping filled the office, which if you weren’t so completely blissed out would have worried you that someone might. You gripped onto your husband's hips pushing him further into you as you continued to be plowed from behind.

You felt yourself being pushed further and further to the peak of your orgasm. Brows pinching together as your moans reverberated against Steve’s cock. “You gonna cum for us baby?” Steve asked.

You let out a noise as close as you could get to a yes. Eddie and Steve began to simultaneously praise you over the edge.

“Come on, cum for us baby, you know you want to.”

“You’ve been such a good girl for us.”

“I wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

Eddie’s hands reached out to tug on your nipples sending you to your peak.Your eyes rolled back as your cunt clenched in pleasure. Orgasm washing over you like a monsoon wave. Your body gave out below you, head falling onto the arm rest.

When you were finally able to come back down to earth you could barely make out what the guys were talking about.

“Steve I need you to tell me when you’re close,” Eddie panted as sweat dripped from his torso, he was still fucking up into your collapsed body.

“Fuck I’m getting there,” his thumb rubbed across his you cheek, checking to make sure you were okay. You mustered all the strength left in your body to give him a faint smile.

“Okay come stand by me.”

Steve coplied, cock in hand, jerking himself off as stepped next to Eddie. The curly haired therapist gently pulled out of you, pushing you so that you were sitting upright against the back of the couch.

You were now fully alert to what was about to happen. Eddie’s hands traveled to Steve’s saliva coated cock, replacing his hand with Eddie’s own. Your husband followed suit, jerking Eddie off at the same speed.

“You alright with this baby?” Eddie’s tone filled with genuine emotion.

“Mhm,” you whimpered out.

And just like that you watched in complete awe as Steve leaned down to kiss Eddie passionately, both men still working each other's pulsing rods. Their chests rose and fell faster than they previously had. They were close.

You figured with how kindly they encountered you before it was only fair that you returned the favor now. “Fuck I want you both to cum on me so bad, please daddy, please doctor Munson?” You used your best innocent voice for this. Men were easy like that, no matter what they were into their knees always buckled at a sweet little voice.

In perfect sync, cum spurted from each other red tips, painting your face and chest in thick lines of cum. The warm liquids dripped down your body like icing on a fresh cake.

The two men pulled away from each other to admire their work. “I wish I had my fucking camera on me right now.”

“Me too.” Eddie grinned.

After a few moments a logical thought came to you. “We should probably clean up before the next session shows up.”

Eddie turns towards the clock on the opposite wall. “Shit you’re right.”

Each of you rushed to collect your discarded clothes, you reached for the box of tissue to wipe yourself down before tugging your now slightly ripped clothes back on.

All of you collected yourselves surprisingly swiftly. Ten minutes left to spare before his next client. Sure your hair was still a bit of a mess and the crotch of your underwear was completely in tatters but this is as good as you were going to get.

“Well, uh, I guess that’s it then.” Steve said, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

You followed your husband's lead, walking towards the door. “Wait!” Eddie stopped both of you in your tracks. He tabs to his desk pulling out a card and writing on it in a rush. Walking over to you he hands it to you two. “This is the other couples therapist I recommended earlier.”

Steve flipped the small rectangular card over to read the other side. “Oh and that’s my home phone number, ya know, in case you wanna ever do this again.” He smiled at you.

You and Steve returned the gesture to each other, knowing you were thinking the exact same thing. You would be giving him a call very soon.

[racingtoaredlight]

Goodnight, Sweet Prince

Disclaimer: You don't want to read this...it's brutal. I won't take offense if you don't read, but please keep unrelated comments on the Open Thread that will post shortly.

***

This is my 4th attempt at writing something that Willie 100% deserves, but I keep breaking down and I just can't stop crying. I loved him so much, it's just ripping me apart. I loved him so goddamned much.

I was so proud to be his owner. I fucking hate that term, I just don't know what else to use.

I took him everywhere I could. Everywhere he went, he drew people in...this isn't hyperbole, at least once per week I'd be stopped by someone driving and spend a minute or two chatting about him. He was everything I ever wanted in a dog...from his athleticism to his personality to his sense of humor.

Every day I'd get in my car to go home from work, I'd excitedly start my car and say "I'm comin' Willie!" But now he's gone. He's not there to come home to anymore. I walk around my house looking for him and he's just not there.

***

My past four months have been a form of hell, and I've tried really hard not to bring it here...but it's just really hard when that's all you can think about.

I've known my father was going to die since his two heart attacks on the same weekend seven and a half years ago. Those heart attacks happened a month after my beloved grandmother passed away.

I've talked about my issues with manic depression in the past, as well as openly discussed that I've been a danger to myself in the past.

When I was on that edge, my first thought was "if I die, nobody will take Willie, and he'll end his life in a shelter waiting for anyone to adopt him." How could I do that to him again? Despite the shitstorm going on in my brain, even in that state, thinking of him cut through it enough to bring me back.

I don't say this lightly...if it weren't for Willie, I would not be here.

***

My father is in hospice and will likely pass within a week or so. The past four months have featured numerous trips to the ER, doc visits, tests, you name it...pretty much all week, every other week as the doctors kept trying their best to keep a man with a 6% functioning heart and 11% functioning kidneys alive.

The easy parts were running to his place to water his plants. Or coming over in the morning to make him a milkshake while we listen to music. The hard parts have been hanging up the phone or leaving his place, and the first thing that runs through my mind is "will this be the last conversation we ever have?"

The medium hard parts were running to the grocery store or the pharmacy in between meetings. Or preparing him 3 days worth of food in the 45 minutes I had before a guitar lesson. And 1.5 of those days I'd be throwing out the next time I stopped by.

The hardest part was wondering who'd go first.

I never complained about any of this. I'd do it again for the both of them without a conscious thought because I love them both so much. But it wears on you. Month after month does a toll.

***

I've been doing all of this, on top of an insane pace at work, on almost no sleep.

The vet told me to keep a diary of his health throughout all this. You notice a string of bad days, but the first good day and a half and all of the sudden that concern washes away. Keeping a diary allows you to get a relatively objective look at your dog's health, and notice long-term trends.

Unfortuantely...as I've known with my dad's heart condition, sleep is a big factor...I tracked Willie's sleep and got a wonderful look every day at how little I'd gotten over months. Months.

And I knew I lied in the diary. I didn't want to admit to myself that Willie's condition was getting so much worse...even if I couldn't ignore the 8th straight day he'd wake me up before 3am. Let me put it this way...in the last three months, I've had six full nights of sleep. Another 12 of days he woke me up after 3am. Every other day was a 2-3am wakeup call, and three of those days were no sleep at all.

It wasn't as simple as getting up and letting him outside to relieve his fading bladder...the next hours before I went to work were spent comforting him on the couch, as his increasingly weakening heart pounded like hell to circulate enough blood through his system.

He didn't wake me up all those nights because he had to pee...he woke me up all those nights so that I could make him less afraid of his heart feeling like it was drowning due to an edema. He'd get comforted and calm down to sleep just around the time I had to get up and get ready for work.

And every morning, every day I'd come home from work...whenever I'd leave him...there was a simultaneous terror combined with hope that I'd find him having passed away in slumber. A peaceful, painless, natural death.

***

There were so many good memories of our time together, please don't ever suggest that I'm glossing over them. I am at a certain peace...it was his time, it was a wonderful goodbye, and so many of my friends and family have come to his support, that's brought me to tears separately.

He was a special guy, he touched everyone's life that he met. He was wonderful with children, wonderful with others, terrible with other dogs (but you can't win em all).

Those memories will always come back as long as I still have a functioning brain. Right now is so close though, all I can feel is loneliness.

Over the years, I've shared numerous anecdotes of Willie because I was so proud of him that I wanted that joy to be spread to others. But all I can feel is the pain of having lost my best friend.

There's a common refrain "you don't know what you got until it's gone," or some variation of that. I thought I knew what I had in my relationship with Willie...but given this gigantic empty space in my heart, this giant fucking chasm, I somehow underestimated how much he was giving me.

***

The thing that scares me the most about the future isn't losing my father, it's losing a grasp of joy.

Pretty much everyone here knows I struggle deeply with anger issues and have a darker side that I try really hard to keep tamped down. I talked about this with my therapist yesterday before the vet came over...

Willie was always a bulwark against the darker side of my brain coming to the front. Even in my worst moods, where I'm borderline psychotic, even just looking at him would bring me to a calmer, sustainable place psychologically. "Those" days at work? They bothered me less knowing I'd be on the couch chillin' with my big boy in 15 minutes.

As his condition worsened, so did the vet bills and trips. $100 a pop, $450 for an echocardiogram here, $200 dog cardiologist fees, $180 for a Lasix IV there, $150 every month for his heart medication, $50 per month on all the stuff he needed for his arthritis, and it seriously just goes on and on. Thousands and thousands of dollars over the last four months. Nevermind the car trips there and back that wreaked havoc on his heart...

But I would have done fucking anything for this dog. Anything except selfishly keep him alive when he's telling me he just can't anymore...I knew it was the right thing, and I feel like I fucking completely betrayed and failed him, at a time when he needed me the most.

That helpless feeling..."I can't do fucking shit"...I'd find myself at 3am googling "if you love a dog enough will it live forever?" You know the answer. I knew the answer. That's where I'm still at.

***

I should've quit writing this paragraphs ago...I'm just fucking sobbing and this isn't doing me any good. And I can't just talk about the good times, because all I can think of is that those times are gone. Every time I think of something beautiful or joyful, it's immediately poisoned by an onset of sobbing because I miss him so much already.

You all know how much Willie meant to me. I don't have to make the case for that...I loved that dog more than I've loved anything in my life. And I don't give a shit if you think that's sad or immature or lame.

I kept quitting this and coming back because he deserves it. He deserves to be commemorated for the tremendous companion he was...and as much as I'd love to be able to write that piece that makes everyone happy and celebrates him, I just can't write that piece right now. The joyful memories will come when I'm in a healthier state, I'm certain of it.

But I can't keep writing this and just crying all over myself. He deserved a much better eulogy than this, but this is the best that I could do. It feels like I failed him already yesterday and now I feel like I'm failing him again.

Willie was the greatest dog in the world, my best friend, my savior, and adopting him was the single most rewarding thing I've ever done in my life. I'll love him forever no matter what. I'm just really hurting right now.

***

During this time, I've been trying to think of something to preserve his memory with what few skills I possess, and I have no idea how to do this or even get it started, but I want to start a non-profit called The Willie Fund where I can link with pit rescues across the country and provide funds for palliative care and dignified, in-home euthenasia for those in their communities that need it. I don't know where to start but I have to do something.

And thank you guys for letting me share Willie with you all these years. I'll be back at some point.

*The pic at the top was taken months ago, not yesterday...it's just my favorite serious picture of the two of us and thought it was a respectful image to remember our relationship by. I loved him so much and I know he loved me too.

[orleans-jester]

Maddy had gone to scratch - but her hands never quite made it. She was able to stop herself. To calm herself back down. She was trying to find other outlets for her anxiety that didn’t involve hurting herself at all. After all, she had two very big eyes eyes watching her, learning from her, at all times. Grabbing her knees seemed a much better option.

“I don’t know. You know me, my mind just…” Goes off on it’s own tangents, in a completely different way than Bastien’s did. “To tell you the truth, the whole truth I .. I feel like since we’ve had Frankie, we haven’t really had any time to ourselves, except for when she’s asleep and even then, we have to worry about waking her. I’m not complaining about her, I love her so much, more than I ever thought was possible, it’s just - a babysitter so that we could go out and spend a night together, just you and me, would be .. a relief one of these nights.”

And there it was. The big dirty secret. The thought that made her feel like a horrible mother. It had been ten months - ten months of glorious days of watching her little one grow up so goddamn fast. Too fast. She was already crawling. She was babbling little noises. She was eating baby food, and like her dad, had an adoration for the banana flavors. But it was also ten straight months of the three of them, tired, working together, without much outward support. Never even thought about asking Delta or Frank to babysit, the idea was just a solid red X like a game show. Willem and Figaro - amazing with dolls and animals in turn but, a human baby, Maddy wouldn’t put that on them, no matter how much she loved them as friends. It made her feel like the worst goddamn person in the world to want a break from their daughter, even for one night. The absolute worst.

Not to mention there was also times when Jetsam took over - rare but there - and would just … leave with Bastien’s body.

She was definitely awaiting his judgment on that one. And expecting it to be harsh.

Maybe this was just what they needed. To uncork those pent-up thoughts the way that she used to uncork wine bottles. Just let the honesty flow. It had felt both good and horrible to get her thoughts out, to actually make her lips form the words and let someone else actually hear them. Because he just let out a lot too.

“Fuck Declan, and fuck Pierre,” She said, with more confidence than she had said anything since coming into this country. “They didn’t know me - I didn’t even really know me then, Bastien. I was so … lost. Then you helped give me this name, and .. remember when w got our tarot reading? It’s easy to lose your way in the dark, the moon, that’s one of the cards that came up and you told me that you’re an expert. You’ll never let me get lost.” She remembered that night so vividly. In such detail. Like a movie she’d seen a dozen times. “Well you became the stars that brought me home. Not only that but brought me to .. me. So no, they don’t know a thing about me, and they don’t know what they’re talking about. We have the opposite problem, where I just want .. more of you. More swan boats and carriage rides and .. even though we’re already married, thinking about our future and just being together in every sense of the world. I really do love my life with you. I love our dungeon home and walking through the shacks and bringing you dinner at the belltower because you just want to ring the bells all day. I don’t regret a thing. This isn’t temporary.”

Uncork. Not wine. Champagne. Bursting out all at once.

She almost wanted to apologize for going on a rant like that. She knew she could lose him by talking too much. It was known to happen. But also, she didn’t feel like she should apologize for the feelings that she had right then, the ones that she expressed, so she didn’t.

“I think we are okay, Bastien. I’ve just been … sort of needy and really bad at showing it,” She admitted.

Oh gosh, there it was.

He noticed her start to scratch. He got closer and watched her eyes more closely.

"Well, I'm sorry if you think I'd do that, but I thought this was a family adventure. I never pictured anything like you're describing it. I don't even get where you're coming up with that. It's supposed to be for all of us. All of it. That's the whole point. When I came up with my idea for what to do with the money I thought why not make a big family todo out of it? It might.... help. You're never a tag-a-long. You're my wife. That's obnoxious, Maddy. When you're with me, you're with me. It's sort of why I married you. You can't ever be a third wheel sort. That's not how it works. That's what being married is. I'm too full of love for that."

He took her hand and smoothed over the Paris colored ring and shook his head.

Then she said something scary though. She didn't know when things changed. To him that meant she felt it too. She said it so meekly.

He sighed after.

"But they changed."

Okay now he was nervous.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." He admitted.

Laverne was pushing his back during a rather long pause trying to convince him to admit what he'd been holding inside, to just be honest.

"I get scared too. I get scared your brother's right and Declan's right. Like maybe I was just a Florence Nightingale effect and it's going to wear off because you're meant for bigger things. My ways aren't really the life you want, not now that you're better. Like eventually you're going to see it."

"And I do have to do something. I thought this trip was going to help and I can't even get passed getting checked into the hotel. I just want us to be okay."

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

seeing as you are a fellow mcr enjoyer i have a question for you of the utmost importance: do you think mike wheeler would like mcr or not

OHOHOHOHO YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE ASKED ME THAT. you just need to know beforehand before i am doing the answering of this uestion that i am ooo osooooo normal about this topic. trust me. the most normal

ok.

he absolutely likes mcr are you kidding me look at this man

he's struggling with his mental health, he's struggling with his sexuality, he's idolising a dude with long hair, piercings and pronouns, he's trying to be more metal. it's right there. plus the fact that he is just like me fr fr so i am going like this

and giving him all of my interests + autism (BECAUSE I SAID SO)

so. the question is, what's his favourite album. what's his favourite song. which one of the members does he have a crush on. does he read the killjoys comics. does he listen to summertime at 4am and cry and think about will. ("the song as a whole is about those people you meet who pull you out of your sleep, and make you wake up to real life, the good, beautiful things...")

i think mike would have a contentious relationship with bullets, it took him a long time to get as into it as the other albums, one week its his favourite, one week he hates it etc etc. his all time favourite album is three cheers and he actually told me that himself so idc. black parade is a very close second though, and disenchanted will always make him feel feelings.

favourite songs from all the albums: Our Lady of Sorrows and and Honey This Mirror and Headfirst for Halos (<< ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME IT IS SO HIM) and a smidge of Demolition Lovers. as a treat.

Give Em Hell Kid (BFFR!!!!), The Ghost Of You (another one that makes him feel The Feelings and will get an emotional reaction always. UM SEASON ONE??) and Cemetery Drive.

I Dont Love You, Disenchanted, and Teenagers absolutely. (are you fucking kidding me??? the most mike wheeler songs EVER and i will die on this hill nobody TOUCH ME),

Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back (his self sacrificing instincts are showing), S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W (at first he hates it, but after he reads up on the lore and the whole TTLOTFK thing he gets way into it), and Planetary, for no reason other than it sounds great 👍

EDIT: Conweap his favourite overall is cw5 and his fav songs are Burn Bright, The World Is Ugly and AMBULANCE

he absolutely looked at gerard way and said i need that man's gender RIGHT NOW and was just absolutely in awe of all his tour outfits and woke will up in the middle of the night to show him a video of cheerard with a flamethrower. that was a big 'wait i can dress less masculine if i want to??' thing and helped him find his personal style i think. and i also think. he has a n eeensy weensy teeny little crush. on gerbar. shh.

also.

look at this dork.

this absolute cringefail loser.

this nerdy nerd nerd.

the absolute second that mike finds out there's a comic that inspired danger days, he s p r i n t s to the local bookstore and cleans them out immediately. he binge reads them for like two nights straight and wakes will up constantly because look look LOOK WHAT HAPPENED WILL NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY-- he then spends the next month entrenched in killjoy lore and ends up with posters up all around his and will's apartment like this

trying to figure out the universe. (he also writes fanfiction but nobody tell 🤫)

anyway. this is a. bit of a long post and as you can tell from my introduction i am so so so so normal about mike wheeler, mcr, and my precious little headcanons.

tldr: yes he would love mcr and no one can take that away from me.

[grey-rambles]

Of First Loves and Second Chances

Chapter Four

Words: ~6.9k

Warnings: Discussions of kidnapping and murder/blood, mentions of anarchy, swearing, a creepy dude hits on Starling at one point (very mild), and one scene that involves kissing

Notes: Finally, the chapter at least one person has been waiting for! This chapter features the @lyssys cameo during the Ball scene (it starts when the italics end if anyone is skipping straight to it) as Wilbur’s date. Special thanks to Carrie @pebblebrainlovejoy for her reassurances and feedback at my literally constant anxiety about the quality of my writing. Love you, Carrie, you’re the real MVP. If you enjoy this, please consider reblogging! It helps much more than a like.

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Seven years ago....

Things had been pretty quiet in your life since the... incident, three months prior.

Other than the odd condolence from folks in the street, people had left you and your family alone, for the most part.

You had been spending a lot of time by yourself recently, which wasn’t entirely coincidental. It wasn’t like you had had a particularly large friend base outside of Techno anyways, and you couldn’t bear the pitying stares of the others in town whenever you attended an event by yourself, so you had simply... stopped going.

You weren’t really sure why everyone was always so morose with you, anyways. Techno had told you he would come back to you, so that was that. There was no sense in grieving or anything of the sort, because he was coming back for you, simple as that. He had to be.

You didn’t like to think about what it would mean if he didn’t.

Besides, it had only been three months! That wasn’t very long at all in the grand scheme of things. Nothing to worry about, not at all.

Sighing to yourself, you head down to the kitchen for lunch, already planning a trip to the bookstore afterwards. You had grown increasingly close with Techno’s parents after everything, and typically spent at least a couple of afternoons a week with them, helping out around the bookstore. It was a nice way to still feel close to your beloved, even when he was so far away from you.

Upon walking past the study, you’re surprised to see your parents both seated at the desk, pouring over some papers. Knocking gently at the door, your father waves you in idly, eyes still scanning across the page he was reading.

“What are the two of you working on here?” you ask, trying to peek at the papers scattered across the desk’s surface.

“Nothing you need to worry about, darling,” your mother says, pulling papers towards her and away from the edge of the table. Suddenly suspicious, you quickly snatch up one of the pages from the desk and begin scanning your eyes over it to figure out what’s going on here.

You’re not happy with what you find.

“Are these... betrothal bids?” you say in disbelief. Your mother winces at your tone, but your father’s face is set in steely determination.

“It’s important that we find you an appropriate match, before everyone of our standing has already paired off. I won’t see you married to some lowlife who can’t give you the life that you deserve.”

“I understand that, Father, but you’re forgetting that I’m already betrothed.” You bring your left hand up to your chest, where your ruby ring still sits prominently.

It’s your mother who speaks up this time. “Darling....”

“No!” You cut her off. “You made an agreement with Techno’s family that we were to be married, and you’re already backing out of it? At least give him a chance to come home first, it hasn’t been that long!!”

Your father’s tone is cold. “The boy is gone, child. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be, for all of us.”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, and internally curse you weepy disposition. Fighting to keep your voice steady, you manage to force out, “He told me he would come back for me.”

Standing up and reaching for you, your mother says, “Oh, my baby...” You shrug her hands off and continue on through your increasingly heavy tears.

“He said he would come back! He promised! You can’t do this, because Techno is going to come back! He has to.” Pausing to take a shuddering breath in, you continue on a little bit more quietly, “What would become of me if he doesn’t?”

The room is silent for a moment, as you stare your father down. He breaks eye contact first, looking back down to the papers on the desk; you can’t find it in you to be happy at the small victory.

“I will be choosing a new partner for you from this pile of applications,” your father says to you, “and there’s nothing you can say that will change that.”

The world stops spinning around you. You feel a sudden wave of calm wash over you—your tears stop, and your voice comes out stronger than before when you speak again.

“I will not marry another. You can accept as many bids as you’d like, but I will marry no one but Technoblade. I’ll walk out of the church before the ceremony if I have to.”

The tears start to well up again as you finally admit aloud the thing you’ve known in your heart all along. “I love him. I always will, and no betrothal bid in the world could change that.”

“Bernard,” your mother is speaking quietly, as though she thinks you will not hear her if she does, “I told you it was too soon, we should have waited--”

“You can wait as long as you like, my answer will remain the same. I will not marry another. Techno will come back to me, and we will get married and live happily for the rest of our days.”

Your father stands abruptly, eyes blazing. “Go to your room.”

“Fine,” you reply, “but if I find out that you’ve accepted any of those bids, you’ll never see me again, and that is a promise.”

His hands slam on the desk, making you jump. “GO TO YOUR ROOM!” He repeats, much more harshly this time. You exit the study without speaking again.

Your mother follows you out into the hallway. Placing a gentle hand on your arm, she speaks quietly to you. “Darling, you know your father means well, and he just wants what’s best for you. Please, just think about it, alright?”

Turning to face her, you reply, “Techno is coming back to me. He promised he would, and so he will. I have to believe it, because the alternative is that he is dead, and I refuse to accept that.”

Removing your arm from your mother’s grip gently, you leave her standing in the hallway speechless, as you continue upstairs to your room.

You just barely manage to close the door behind you before you collapse to the ground, and the tears begin to flow freely once again.

‘What if he isn’t coming back?’ a small, traitorous voice in the back of your head whispers, ‘And you’re alone for the rest of your life?’

You shake your head sharply to dispel this line of thinking.

Techno was coming back to you. He had to be.

With these words on repeat in your head, you take a deep breath and move to continue on with your day, the ever persistent ache in your heart your only steadfast companion.

The castle has been alive with energy these past few days.

There was a ball coming up, you had learned, to celebrate the Empire’s recent military victories, as well as the Emperor’s upcoming birthday.

The Emperor himself was less than pleased about this whole thing, you had also learned.

“This whole thing was Wilbur’s idea,” Techno had explained to you one night when you were getting ready to fall asleep, head pillowed on his chest, with a paperback novel abandoned beside you on the bed, “and I’m fairly certain he did it just to spite me.”

“You still don’t like parties much, huh?” had been your sleepy reply. Techno hummed in agreement to that statement.

“I’ve never been to a ball before,” you had sighed out, “it sounds like it could be fun...”

Just as you were dozing off, you heard Techno gruffly speak into the silence.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. As long as you’re there.”

Which led you to today, the day of the celebration.

You’d spent the past couple of weeks in various fittings for an outfit befitting of a Royal’s partner, all silk and lace, with a shiny new circlet and other jewellery to match. The clothing wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had feared it might be, and the blue and white of the Empire’s colours suited you well, thankfully.

You were currently waiting in the wings behind the largest platform of the Grand Hall to be introduced alongside your betrothed. Phil was also there, next to a beautiful woman you had never seen before wearing a gorgeous black gown and a veil over her face; Wilbur was standing nearby as well, accompanied by a young lady in a silvery-blue dress. He was nearly bent at the waist in order to be able to whisper something into her ear, which she was giggling at—it was sweet.

Trumpets sounded just outside of the curtains: it was time to enter the celebration. One by one, your names were called out by the steward (“Lord Phillip Craft, accompanied by the Lady Kristin”, “Lord Wilbur Soot, accompanied by the Lady Lyss”), until it was just you and Techno remaining behind the curtains.

He offered you his arm, which you took hold of gratefully, hand shaking slightly with nerves. “You ready?” he asks you gently.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, giving him a nervous smile.

“They’ll love you,” he’s quick to reassure, “and if they don’t I’ll have them executed.”

You laugh, but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

Before you have a chance to try and unpack that any further, your names are being called, and Techno is leading you out into the bright lights of the Grand Hall. People are applauding, but you can barely hear it over the roaring in your ears.

Techno leads you down the stairs to the centre of the dance floor. It seems this must have been some sort of cue, because once the two of you are settled into place, other couples begin swarming the area as well. You end up between Wilbur and his partner (who gives you a little smile and a wave), and an older couple dressed in ostentatious outfits covered in feathers.

The music begins, and you scramble desperately to remember your childhood dance lessons. Techno had been your partner back then, too, you remember suddenly, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you so strongly that you almost stumble. If it weren’t for Techno’s grip on you, you would have.

Techno’s arm around your waist tightens. “You okay there, Starling?”

“Yeah, I’m all good,” you smile up at him, “just remembering when we first learned how to dance.”

He chuckles and replies, “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Feels like a lifetime ago at this point.”

“You’re much better at it now than you were back then.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice other than to learn.”

A brief pause falls over the pair of you, before Techno speaks up again, tone a little hesitant and awkward, “You look breathtaking tonight.”

You feel your cheeks blaze into a blush, butterflies erupting in your stomach. “Thank you,” you reply, “It’s a good thing that Empire blue suits my colouring.”

He hums. “I think you’d look even better in red.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You once again lapse into a comfortable silence. Techno’s hand is warm on your waist as the two of you continue to make your way around the dance floor. His hair is pulled back in an elegant updo, and his many interconnected earrings flash in the flickering light of the ballroom. Your heart flutters, and you feel like a teenager all over again.

As the music begins to draw to a close, his eyes, glowing redder than usual in this lighting, flicker down to your mouth. The flutter in your heart picks up into a consistent pounding, and the butterflies turn into a storm.

Techno’s arm pulls you ever so slightly closer to him as the music fades away, and it feels like you’re the only people in the room.

You’re very abruptly reminded that this is not the case, when the pair of you are absolutely swarmed by well wishers the instant that the last notes of the violin have finished ringing out through the Grand Hall.

Techno does his best to keep a grip on your hand, but despite his best efforts, you’re swept away by the mob. You shoot him a smile and a wave from near the back of the crowd, and begin making your way over to the refreshment tables on the far side of the room. As you’re walking away, you can hear Techno’s voice rise above the noise of the Hall, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, and your heart squeezes that you can’t be with him to help.

After a brief stop to peruse the food and beverages on offer, you grab yourself a flute of champagne and a small chocolate tart, and continue making your way around the perimeter of the room, looking for a less crowded place to stand and eat your treat.

Nobody pays you much mind as you make your way through the crowd. You spot Phil and his mysterious companion on the far side of the ballroom, and wave briefly to Tommy where he stands with the rest of the servants near the main castle doorway. 

You eventually settle in a relatively isolated corner of the room, body mostly hidden in the shadow of a grand tapestry. 

As you take the first bite of your tart, the ensemble begins warming up their instruments for the next dance. You scan the crowd for Techno, and find him still surrounded, looking, at least to your eyes, like he would rather be anywhere else. 

You sigh. Looks like no more dancing for you for the foreseeable future. 

As the music returns full force, you idly watch the passing couples as they twirl passed. Wilbur and his partner glide by you, her pale blue skirt flashing silver where the material catches the light as he spins her around. You can't help but smile at the joy on their faces, even as your chest pangs slightly in jealousy.

Your silent contemplation is suddenly interrupted by a shadow looming over you to the left. You turn, startled, to see an unfamiliar face leering at you.

"May I have this dance?" he holds out a hand, cocky smirk still affixed on his face, as though he can't even fathom the idea that you would say no. 

"No thank you, I'm not interested."

The man scoffs, leaning further into your space, and your shoulders hike up instinctively. "Oh, c'mon honey, don't be like that…." You can smell the alcohol on his breath as it wafts over you.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm really not interested." Sensing that this won't be enough to make him back down, you tack on, "I don't think that my betrothed would be very happy to hear you pressuring me to dance with you."

The man opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get a word out, a throat clears behind him.

“Is everything alright over here?”

You’ve never been more relieved to see Techno in your life. 

“Nothing you need to be concerned about, Majesty,” the man says with a sneer. Techno eyes him up and down, expression stony.

“Thanks, but I wasn’t actually talking to you,” Techno replies coldly, before his garnet eyes meet your own, expression visibly softening. “Are you okay, Starling?”

He holds a hand out towards you, and you don’t hesitate to take it. You’re quickly tugged away from the other man and tucked tightly into Techno’s side. You push yourself as close to him as you can possibly get, body relaxing instinctively into his warmth.

The other man has the audacity to laugh. Techno’s grip on you tightens. “Oh, honey, really? This is your betrothed?”

He takes a stumbling step forwards, and Techno instinctively shifts so that your body is partially shielded behind his own. Across the Hall, you can see Phil beginning to make his way over to where you’re standing, and Wilbur appears to be making his way over slowly, as well, as the music again fades out.

“Are we going to have a problem?” Techno asks, voice low and dangerous, hand moving to rest on the pommel of his sword. You had thought it was there purely for decoration, but apparently not.

The other man’s eyes stray towards the weapon, and he clearly isn’t drunk enough to think that fighting the Emperor is a good idea, because he takes a step back, hands raised in an ‘I surrender’. “No, Sire,” he says the honorific as though it is a slur, “I was just surprised to hear that someone like you had managed to snag someone so lovely to be your partner.”

Techno goes very still beside you.

Before either of you can add anything to the conversation, the man continues on, his eyes locked onto yours this time. “Tell me honey, do you know about what your betrothed really is? Has he told you about all the people he’s killed? The cities he’s burned in the name of the Blood God?” The man lets out an almost deranged laugh, “Let’s face it Your Majesty, no matter how much you hide behind your military accolades, and your holier-than-thou front, everyone here knows that you’re nothing but a monster.”

Time feels like it freezes for a moment, as the small group of you standing there process the words that were just spoken.

Several things happen in rapid succession, then.

Tommy appears, seemingly out of nowhere, jumping onto the man’s back, screaming “YOU BITCH” at the top of his lungs, as the man flails trying to get him off. More people jump into the fray in an attempt to separate the pair, a few strangers, but also a few familiar faces, Techno among them. 

“Guards!” he yells out, and six members of his Royal Guard, including Captain Dream, come storming into the scene. You very quickly find yourself sidelined, standing near the mysterious Lady that was accompanying Phil this evening– she gives you a small smile from underneath her veil.

The man is very quickly subdued, what with six guards, the Emperor himself, and an irate teenager all attempting to bring him down (although that last one was more a hindrance than a help; Tommy himself needing to be restrained by a put-upon looking Sapnap to stop him from jumping the man all over again).

The man sneers up at Techno from where he’s being held, kneeling, by two guards. Technoblade’s face appears impassive as he looks down at the man. Backlit by one of the hanging lamps that line the walls, he looks like some sort of avenging angel, here to pass judgement on the man kneeling before him.

Techno regards the man for another moment. Silence reigns in the ballroom, the scuffle having drawn the attention of the other guests present, as all in witness wait in anticipation to hear what the Emperor will decide.

“Take him away,” Techno says, face remaining a stony mask. The guards begin moving towards the doorway, hauling the man between them, and Techno turns away from the sight. 

The man makes eye contact with you as he’s being dragged past. “I’d be careful if I was you, honey,” he spits, “getting too close to a monster like that thing can only end poorly for you.” 

You scoff at him, turning away, and he laughs derisively. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” are his parting words, as the guards finally reach the grand doors leading out of the Hall.

The silence continues for another couple of moments once the doors close behind them. Your eyes search for Techno in the crowd, and you find him quickly, still facing away from the crowd, shoulders visibly tensed. 

The crowd unfreezes after a moment, and you quickly find yourself swarmed by a crowd of nobles, all of whom you’ve never met before. 

“That must have been so scary,” a lady practically squeals in your ear, and you step away from her on instinct, only to bump into a gentleman just behind her, who immediately begins grilling you for information about what happened before everyone’s attention had been drawn in by the fight. 

After a minute, you manage to extract yourself from the situation, scanning the crowd wildly for Techno, but you can see no sign of him anywhere in the vicinity. Turning slowly in a circle, your eyes continue searching for your betrothed in the crowd. You spot Tommy, speaking angrily to Sapnap, while he stands there, looking exasperated at this turn of events. Phil is in the corner where you last remember seeing Techno, speaking very seriously to his mysterious companion. So many people, all in colourful party clothes swim past your eyes, but none of them the one you’re searching for. 

A tap on your shoulder jolts you out of your focused search, and you turn around, startled, to see Wilbur’s companion standing there, a sympathetic look in her eyes. 

“He went that way,” she says, pointing to the tapestry on the Northernmost wall of the Grand Hall. At your look of confusion, she clarifies, “There’s a secret passage behind there that leads up to some of the galleries on the next floor up. Not many people know about it, so it’s a pretty easy escape route.”

Expressing your gratitude quickly, you begin making your way towards the tapestry. Lady Lyss calls out “Good luck!” to your back, and you shoot her a final smile over your shoulder, before slipping behind the tapestry and into the secret passage.

It’s surprisingly clean and well lit for something that’s supposed to be a relatively well kept secret, but you quickly shake free of that train of thought, and follow the short hallway down to a spiraling staircase up to the next floor.

Carrie if you’re reading this I love you <3<3<3

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you take stock of your surroundings. You’re in a relatively unfamiliar and little used section of the castle, one that you had only walked through maybe twice before during your initial exploration of the grounds when you had first arrived. The hallway is sparsely lit, with only every third torch on the wall illuminated, and you can see alcoves with openings overlooking the Grand Hall periodically. 

Along the other side of the hallway are darkened rooms, that you remember as being mainly unused guest bedchambers and seldom frequented galleries. Walking slowly down the hallway, you peer into each room as you pass by, scanning the perimeter for a Techno-shaped shadow. 

The third room you look into, you find success.

Moonlight spills through the bay windows, silhouetting your betrothed in silver light where he stands, with his back to you, in front of the window.

You must make some sort of sound, because Techno turns abruptly to face you. The moon now backlighting him, he almost looks like he’s glowing, the light glinting off of his crown making the golden metal appear closer to a silvery halo. His eyes stand out, intense in their scarlet glow against the shadowed silhouette of the rest of his face.

The two of you maintain eye contact for a breathless moment before Techno turns to face the window again, still silent. You slowly begin approaching him, the sound of your footfalls against the stone floor echoing loudly in the otherwise silent room.

You reach Techno’s side a minute later, but he keeps his eyes cast forward out the window. Standing next to him, not touching, but close enough together that you can feel his body heat to your right, you also allow your gaze to wander over the view outside of the window. This section of the palace overlooks the cliffs on the far East of the castle grounds, which you can just make out the shape of in the moonlight. Beyond that, the ocean stretches, dark and cold, into the horizon; the moonlight glinting off of the surface of the water illuminates the occasional ice floe, stark white against the surrounding water. 

Beside you, Techno lets out a sigh. “Why are you here, Starling?” he asks, tone weary.

“I came to make sure you were okay,” you reply evenly, despite the anxiety crawling inside of your chest.

He scoffs. "Of course I'm okay. It's nothing that I haven't heard before."

"That doesn't make it okay though," you counter gently. 

He returns his gaze to the window, and silence reigns supreme over the two of you once again. 

“Aren’t you going to ask about it?” Techno says suddenly, quite abrupt in his delivery.

“Ask about what?”

“What he said back there. About me burning cities and slaughtering masses. Surely you’re curious about how true all of that was.”

“Techno,” you place your hand on his arm, and he finally looks you in the eye, “I won’t ask about it if you don’t want me to. I’ll wait as long as you need me to, until you’re ready to tell me about your past on your own terms.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute, no words exchanged. Music starts up again in the ballroom and drifts, just barely audible, to your ears.

Techno clearly hears it too; his eyes flick over to the doorway for a moment, then back to you. A conflicted expression briefly passes over his face, before it smooths back out into his typical impassive face.

Before you can even open your mouth to ask him what that was about, he’s moving to the center of the room and thrusting an open hand towards you. You stare at it for a moment, bewildered, before raising your eyeline to meet his.

With a faint blush on his cheeks, Techno abruptly says, “Dance with me.”

You blink. Then, slowly, you approach him and take his hand.

He immediately sweeps you into his arms, beginning a slow swaying to the faint chords of the violin drifting up from downstairs. The two of you fall into rhythm just as easily as you had at the start of the night, but with a few key differences this time around.

You’re standing much closer to him than propriety would typically allow now, and his hand is resting far lower on your back than it was when you started the night. The exposed skin there tingles where his fingers rest, hot like a brand, against your back. 

Tentatively, you bring your head down to rest against Technoblade’s shoulder, relaxing your body against him. His hand briefly tightens against your back, before he relaxes and shifts to accommodate more of your body weight. Your legs are brushing together each time you sway to either side, practically intertwined with how close together you are; you can hear Techno’s heartbeat underneath your ear, steady and strong, albeit a bit fast. 

“I have a scar,” Techno begins haltingly, a minute or so later, “in the center of my chest. I got it during the ritual that the cult did to summon the Blood God. I almost died– I did die, except the Blood God brought me back. He chose me as His champion. His Vassal.”

He pauses for a moment, taking a couple of deep, shuddering breaths. You can do nothing but burrow deeper into his chest, rubbing small, soothing circles on his back as best you can. 

Techno presses on after a minute, though it seems as though it takes him much more effort than usual to maintain his usual expressionless tone. “Time gets a little… weird for me, for the next little bit. It’s a pretty big adjustment, having a God inside your head all the time. I did a lot of stuff at that point, because the cult wanted me to. They were trying to build the Blood God’s strength back up, and to do that, they needed a lot of blood, and since I was his vassal, it had to be me that did it. I… I killed a lot of people.”

“Did you want to?” you can’t help but ask, internally wincing almost as soon as the words have left your mouth. Techno seems to take it in stride though.

Sighing deeply into your hair, he says, raw honesty evident in his voice, “I’m not certain. Our thoughts and desires were all… jumbled up during that time, Him and me. I have a hard time picking apart which were the things He wanted and the things I wanted. They’re really one and the same.”

“It got easier, to tell things apart as the Blood God grew stronger,” Techno continues on, almost as though he’s trying to reassure you, “and it got so that he and I could have actual conversations in my head as two separate entities shortly before Manifestation,” Techno laughs faintly here, but it isn’t a happy sound. “He uh… wasn’t too happy, both with how the cult were treating me, and with what He saw in my memories of how all this came to be. The last thing He did before Manifesting in His own separate, Godly form was commandeer my body to slaughter them all with Divine strength.”

He takes another shuddering breath, and you can’t help but interrupt. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Tech.” 

“No, I want to,” he counters, “You deserve to know.” 

When it becomes clear to him that you aren’t going to say anything more, he continues on, voice a little steadier now, “I wandered for a little while after the Manifestation and subsequent massacre. After Manifesting, the Blood God kinda just… left me to my own devices, although I still bear His mark, and I can channel His power in certain situations, if He deems it worthy. It’s come in handy a few times, although I shudder to think what may have happened if I had ever lost His favour.

“I tried to find my way home after everything, but I never was great with directions, and I wound up getting picked up by some nobel from the Kingdom of Hypixel, who brought me in to be a gladiator in the Capital. That’s actually where I met Phil.”

“What about Wilbur and Tommy?” you ask, and Techno chuckles. “They came along a little later on, after we had already started the Empire.”

“Oh yeah, how did that happen, anyways?”

“Ahaha….” he laughs awkwardly, “Uh, Phil and I…. kinda overthrew a government?”

You move to pull away slightly to look up at his face, eyebrows raised, though his hand tight on your back makes it hard to pull away more than a few inches. He smiles at the look on your face, and is quick to continue with his story, gently pulling your head back to his chest.

“Phil and I met in the Gladiator ring. Our quarters in the fighter’s wing were next to each other, so we became friends almost out of necessity. The fighters… weren’t treated super well, and we got to talking about how unfair it was, and next thing I knew we were recruiting the other gladiators to our cause and starting a rebellion throughout the Capital.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain how you ended up the Emperor of an Empire.”

You try to pull back to look into his eyes again, but his hand holds your head to his chest this time around. Still, he’s quick to elaborate in answer to your claim, so you allow yourself to relax back against him. 

“Turns out, the King and the rest of the upper crust weren’t just unkind to us fighters; they were unkind to pretty much all of the citizens that they viewed as lower class. So, the people were actually pretty happy to have somebody else take over. I became kind of… an icon? For the rebellion? Like, a rallying figure.”

Silence falls for a beat. The string quartet down in the ballroom hits a crescendo, but you and Techno never change the gentle speed of your swaying.

“I didn’t really want to be in charge once the dust settled. I mean, you know me, I hate people, and socializing, and that’s like, half of this job at the end of the day. But Phil talked me into staying, and now here I am.”

You giggle a bit at his tone at the end, asking, “What did he have to say to you to convince you of that?”

Techno chuckles into your hair for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “He convinced me that expanding the Empire and annexing towns with the resources we had would be a more effective way to look for you than me searching on my own.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “What?” you breathe out.

“Did you think there would be another reason? I never forgot the promise I made you. The only reason I ever kept going was the thought of seeing you and my parents again.”

“Did you ever find your parents?” you can’t help but ask. You hadn’t seen them in years at this point, not since your family had moved away about a year and a half after Techno’s disappearance. You hoped that they were well.

Techno’s grip tightens around you. “Yeah, we uh. We found them.” His voice doesn’t sound happy when he says this, and you feel your stomach drop.

“What happened?”

“We got there too late. The whole town was rubble by the time Phil and I arrived on scene. We had allied with another faction for this battle, and their commander had instructed them to burn everything to the ground.” 

There’s a shuddering exhale against your hair, but Techno’s voice is as steady as ever when he continues to speak. “I found my parents’ bodies in the ruins of the bookstore. I was just too late to save them.”

“Oh, Tech–” you begin, but he barrels right on, speaking over you for the first time that night. His grip on you is almost painful, it's so strong.

“I went to your house next, and there was nothing there but ruins. I was so convinced I had lost you–”

“Techno you’re hurting me.”

He lets go of you as though he’s been burned, quickly backing away and keeping his eyes on the floor. The music has stopped in the Grand Hall, leaving only the sound of your breathing in its wake.

You take a hesitant step towards him, and Techno flinches. 

“My family moved away,” you say softly, “a little over a year after I lost you.”

He nods his head, swallowing audibly, and adds, “I know. Alex- the guy my parents hired to help out in the bookstore?- survived, and I ran into him. He let me know that you weren’t living there anymore.”

You take another step forward, and reach out to cup his face in your hand. He keeps his eyes on the floor, breath still uneven. 

You place your other hand on his face, and gently force his head up until he meets your eyes. 

“Look at me,” you command, “I’m right here okay? I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Techno clutches at one of your hands like a lifeline. “Gods, Starling. When I thought I had lost you… I’ve never experienced anything worse in my life. Any and all suffering I had faced with the cult, in the fighting rings, all of it paled in comparison to how it felt to think that I would never see you again.”

He reaches out his other hand to cup your cheek, and you turn your face to press a kiss to the inside of his palm. In response, he hooks his hand on the back of your neck and draws you close once again, but in an inverse of your earlier position, with his head buried in the crook of your shoulder, hands now clutching at your back.  

In response, you pet his hair as best you can with the updo it’s in, murmuring reassurances into his ear. 

After a minute, he pulls back, eyes shiny in the dim moonlight. “I love you,” he says, his gaze boring into you and leaving you breathless. 

“I love you too,” you manage to force out past the lump in your throat. Techno smiles, wider than you’ve seen since you were children, and you can’t help but let out a breathless giggle. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and you can do nothing but nod, butterflies crawling up your throat as he leans down slowly to press his lips against yours.

Throwing away any sense of decorum you may have had remaining, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes and deepen the kiss, tangling your fingers into Techno’s hair with no regard for his updo any longer. 

He pulls away from you after a long moment, both of your chests heaving. 

“Again,” you say, already moving back towards his lips. He breathes the barest hint of a laugh against your lips before indulging you once again.

You lose some time here, pressing kiss after kiss against Techno’s lips, his cheeks, his neck, wherever you can reach. You must have moved at some point, though you don’t remember when, because you find yourself pressed up against the bay window, legs wrapped firmly around Techno’s waist, hands still in his hair, with his arms resting on either side of your head, caging you in. The glass is freezing against your back, but Techno’s body feels like fire every place he’s touching you.

He brings his head down into the crook of your neck, and his breath against the sensitive skin there makes you shiver, legs instinctively tightening around him.

“Gods, Starling,” Techno groans into your neck, before placing a soft kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. When your hand tightens in his hair at the feeling, he does it again. And again, open-mouthed this time, before sucking some of the skin into his mouth and biting down. 

He’s going to leave a mark, you think somewhat dizzily through the haze of pleasure, and heat pools in the bottom of your stomach at the thought. Your eyes flutter closed around a whine, head tilting unconsciously further to the side to give him more room.

There’s a thud from near the entrance of the gallery.

Almost before you’ve registered what’s happening, Techno has pulled away from you and turned around, your body shielded behind him. He has his sword drawn and held steady in a defensive position, but when no threat immediately makes itself apparent, he relaxes minutely, sword lowering down next to him, though still cautiously on guard.

“Who’s there?” Technoblade calls out, voice echoing slightly, “Show yourself!”

Nothing. 

“As the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire, I demand that you show yourself now. If you have no malicious intentions, I promise that no harm will come to you.”

You hold your breath, but as a few long moments pass by with no ominous figures emerging from the shadows, you relax, draping your arms around Techno’s neck and pressing your body against his back to speak into his ear. “Looks like it was nothing.”

He hums at your words, but doesn’t turn around, eyes still scanning over the darkness of the room.

Pouting slightly at being ignored, you take Techno’s earlobe between your teeth, smirking when you hear his breath hitch.

“Starling…”

“What?” you say, trying to keep your grin out of your voice.

Techno sighs deeply, put upon, but he’s smiling when he rearranges your bodies so that you’re face to face. He still doesn’t turn his back to the door, you note, choosing to move you both so that your sides are to the door. 

He presses a kiss to your cheek. “I have to go check it out. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you have to?” you ask, winding your arms around his neck again, practically hanging off of him. 

He rolls his eyes, jostling you gently until you relent and let him go. “It’s probably nothing,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand in a silent apology, “but I still need to make sure. For my peace of mind, if nothing else.”

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, though your besotted expression betrays your true feelings.

“Stay right here, okay?” Techno tells you, “I’ll be right back.”

You lean your back against the window again, as Techno vanishes into the darkness. 

Thinking back over the past little while, you can’t help the swoop in your stomach as a giddy smile overtakes your face. 

Almost in a daze, you move to press against the mark you’re sure is forming on your neck, suppressing another shiver as the dull ache pulses pleasantly against the pressure.

Maybe you could convince Techno to head back to his bedroom once he got back. As attractive as it was that he could support your whole body weight standing up, you imagined that this would be even more fun laying down….

You’re broken from your reverie by the sound of shattering glass.

An unfamiliar pair of arms wraps around your body from behind. You struggle against them as hard as you can, letting out a single scream before a cloth is covering your mouth and nose. Instinctively, you inhale, smelling something cloyingly sweet.

Your vision begins to turn dark around the edges, head lolling as the stranger adjusts their hold on you into something more secure.

The last thing you see before your vision blacks out entirely is Techno's horror-stricken face in the gallery doorway.

Wind rushes through your hair, almost soothingly, as your assailant falls backwards out the window. You take what little comfort you can from the sensation, as you finally succumb to unconsciousness.

The reason that Lyss knows the passageway is there is because Wilbur and her snuck out through there at the last Ball. I couldn’t fit it in to the story, but I wanted everyone to know.

[starbuckie]

𝐬𝐡𝐚���𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N. 

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

-

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday. 

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

-

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine? 

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day. 

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs. 

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin. 

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

-

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.” 

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray. 

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together. 

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction. 

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization. 

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch. 

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else. 

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her- 

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where. 

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?” 

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body. 

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches. 

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh. 

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure. 

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night. 

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts. 

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers. 

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts. 

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.  

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more. 

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade. 

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving. 

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten. 

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight. 

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore. 

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again. 

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway. 

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom. 

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes. 

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal. 

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex. 

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips. 

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass. 

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out. 

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed. 

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door. 

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation. 

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move. 

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go. 

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.