#like one of them slept with my former roommate and one of them slept with my bf before i met him
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special smokes [weedrry]
summary: harry and y/n struggle with their self-control after sharing a joint at niall’s house party.
word count: 3,774
warnings: mentions and consumption of marijuana (smoking a joint) and alcohol, smut; kissing, teasing, swearing, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, light spanking
a/n: at first i had no intention of following up on weedrry and y/n but so many requested it and the more i considered it, the more ideas i kept getting hehe. they’re probably one of my favourite couples to write at this point and i have some other ideas in the woodwork for them aswell!! this is technically part two of special brownies but it can also be read as a standalone :) anyway, i hope you enjoy darlings and happy belated 420 hehe <3
//
They promised to never talk about it again. But that didn’t stop either of them lying in bed at night, reminiscing how each other tasted. It didn’t stop Harry from thinking about his roommate as he touched himself in the shower and painted the tiles with his come. Just like it didn’t stop Y/N from pretending her thick dildo was Harry’s cock when she got herself off at three in the morning.
Neither of them was aware of the other's shenanigans. Harry thought Y/N was too embarrassed to think about it and Y/N thought Harry just forgot. Of course, Tom’s none the wiser to anything that’s happened. Even living with the two, he’s yet to notice that slight shift in the atmosphere – that tension that seems to follow wherever they go together.
And tonight is no different. They’re both slightly turned on at the thought of one another as they sit huddled around the fire in Niall’s garden. He’s one of the few friends who was sensible enough to apply for a house rather than an apartment, and Harry is always sure to reap the benefits of it.
It’s nearly ten o’clock and the house party Niall threw for his birthday is in full swing. Y/N recognises a few faces, not nearly as many as Harry (who’s known to have been a bit of a serial dater in the past), but it doesn’t change her mood in the slightest.
She’s been perched on a sun lounger for the past forty-five minutes, five drinks in and slowly starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol. She promised herself she wouldn’t drink too heavily tonight – not when she knows how sleepy she gets with alcohol. She doesn’t want to be found passed out on some random person's bed that Niall houseshares with.
Harry’s been sporting the same beer for the past half an hour. Much like Y/N, he also wasn’t really in the mood to get shitfaced, despite it being his best friend's birthday. He has a job interview tomorrow afternoon and he cannot deal with cradling a hangover at the same time.
His eyes have been on her body most of the night. Despite living together, he’s hardly seen Y/N at home in the past two weeks since… well… you know. At first, he thought she was just busy, but now he’s starting to get the idea that she’s avoiding him.
Harry’s sure it’s down to embarrassment, and as much as he wants his friend back, he promised he wouldn’t bring it up again. He doesn’t want to embarrass Y/N any further. It hurts his ego a little bit if he’s honest. Harry struggles to understand if she’s embarrassed she slept with her friend, or if she’s embarrassed because she slept with him.
If he pulled his head out of his ass, he might realise that it’s the former. Mostly. Because the other half of what she’s feeling is pure lust. Y/N struggles to even look at Harry the same since they hooked up two weeks ago. When she looks at him, all she sees is him naked – so she’s certain he sees the same when he looks at her.
She takes another swig of her drink in an attempt to drown the groan that tries to escape. God, it’s criminal how even just the thought of him naked manages to get her worked up like this. He’s her friend for crying out loud. She needs to get her thoughts in order.
Harry’s telling himself the same thing. Struggling to think of anything other than kissing up her smooth, exposed thighs and burying his head under her little sundress right there, in front of everyone to see. His cock stiffens slightly in his pants and he shifts a little in his chair – as discretely as he can.
“Who’s up for a round of spin the bottle!”
The group in the garden chant a groan in unison at Niall’s suggestion. “We’re not fifteen, Ni… nobody wants to play spin the bottle.” Alfie pipes up from his crisscrossed position on the patio floor.
Niall rolls his eyes and places an empty wine bottle in the middle of the group anyway. Involuntarily, everyone begins to form a circle around it, knees knocking as they do. Y/N remains on the deck chair, pulling the back up so she sits upright like Harry who’s still opposite her.
Niall gets comfortable on the ground, his eyes alight like a kid on Christmas. He’s about to take his turn when he furrows his brows and begins to pat down his pockets like he’s forgotten something.
“Anybody got a smoke?”
“Nah,” Jessie calls back, “I’ve got a couple of joints, though.”
Harry and Y/N’s eyes find one another as their bodies grow paralysed at the mention of the one thing that got them in this situation in the first place.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Oooh,” Niall grins, “Jessie’s got the special smokes… come on then, lad. Light ‘em up and pass ‘em around.”
Y/N’s heart begins to thump against her ribcage as she tears her gaze away from Harry’s. There’s no way in Hell this is happening right now. She tells herself to calm down, that she doesn’t have to have a pull of the joint.
But as it makes its way around the circle until it’s between her fingers, she finds herself taking a long, deep drag of it anyway. It burns the back of her throat, as weed always has, but she holds it for as long as she can before slowly exhaling and passing it back down to Niall who sits in front of her.
When she lifts her gaze, her eyes lock on Harry’s. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face as he holds the second joint between his fingers – like he knows they’re going to end up in the same situation as last time and he’s more than okay with that. Harry takes a drag just as Y/N had and passes it off to Genevieve next to him.
Harry manages to hold it in longer than Y/N can and he keeps his eyes locked on hers when he slowly exhales. When the joint makes its way back to Y/N and she’s taking her second pull, she’s giving in to all the dirty thoughts in her head. Her wicked smirk matches Harry’s now and the game of spin the bottle begins.
Niall starts first, landing on Genevieve who he kisses quite happily. Gen spins and lands on Jessie. Then when Jessie spins, he lands on… Y/N.
Her eyes are quick to flicker between him and Harry as she registers the situation. There’s a third and fourth joint passing through the group and for a moment, she’s too stoned to realise what’s going on.
There’s a look on Harry’s face, though – an unamused one. His jaw is set tightly and his brows are gently pinched as he watches Jessie approach Y/N with a lopsided grin. He doesn’t understand why anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. And Y/N doesn’t understand why she feels so weird about being kissed by someone else in front of him.
But she welcomes Jessie’s lips against hers anyway. It’s soft, gentle. He’s not a bad kisser, but after a few seconds, he pulls away and hands her the joint before returning to his seat. She looks to Harry again with pursed lips and he’s chewing at the inside of his cheek.
Y/N takes another pull for the joint and reaches for the bottle when Niall’s hand on hers stops her.
“I have an idea to make this more interesting.”
She looks at him, eyebrow raised.
“You have to hook up with the person it lands on.”
Her eyes widen and a laugh rumbles from her chest. “Niall, you can’t make me hook up with anyone. That’s not how this game works. You’re not fucking Cupid.”
Niall frowns, displeased by her attitude. He crosses his arms over his chest and pinches the joint from her fingers, huffing. “Fine.”
Y/N spins the bottle, leaning back as she watches it rotate until it lands on Harry. His eyes are on hers, hungry. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat, stepping between people as she approaches him.
Harry cranes his head up, still not entirely happy that she kissed Jessie, but he welcomes her mouth on his instantly. They’re lustful, almost forgetting their surroundings as Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She’s about to do the same, to tangle her fingers in his hair when whistling and cheering breaks them apart.
They’re both incredibly flushed and hot as Y/N moves back to her seat, licking over her bottom lip for another distant taste of him. Harry’s no better, his cock beginning to swell. He clears his throat and leans down to take his turn.
There’s a resounding gasp as it lands on Y/N and they're forced to kiss again, this time Harry approaching Y/N and kissing her a little hungrier. When she spins her turn, it lands back on Harry and the group is growing both tired and a little suspicious of the game.
It gets harder and harder for them to keep their hands to themselves. The stolen kisses feed the fire in their bellies and Niall is quick to call off the game and suggest some truth or dare instead, like the fifteen-year-old he seems to be.
Both Y/N and Harry hardly listen to the game unfold. Both are too stoned and lust-filled to pay attention to anything. They’re stealing glances from across the circle, sharing knowing looks that they’re both desperate to escape everyone else and hide away together somewhere.
It goes on like this for another ten minutes and pinching the joint from Niall’s hand, Harry takes initiative and stands from his chair. “Y/N, shall we go and sort out Ni’s present now?”
He’s got a brow raised expectantly and her eyes widen at his little fib. They both miss the way Niall looks between them with a beaming smile full of excitement.
“You’s got me a present?”
Y/N blinks, finally looking at her friend. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, we completely forgot. Do you mind if we get it sorted? It’s not quite finished yet.” She lies through her teeth.
Harry’s smirk grows tenfold at the way she plays along with the little game and Niall nods his head.
“Thanks, Ni,” Harry says kindly, voice a bit condescending but Niall’s too stoned to notice. “Do you mind if I smoke this in the house?”
Niall waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t care, I do it all the time.”
Harry looks back to Y/N, tilting his head to the door with a smirk. She follows him inside, giddy with lust and anticipation. He takes her hand in his, guiding her as he weaves through other party-goers until they reach the stairs. It’s a little quieter when they reach the top, Harry opening doors and quickly closing them when he finds they’re already occupied.
He’s growing frustrated, only one room left that he hasn’t checked – Niall’s room. He tugs them both inside when he realises it’s empty, closing and locking the door behind them. Harry takes a pull of the joint and leaves it hanging between his lips as his fingers work on the buttons at the top of Y/N’s sundress.
She’s full of adrenaline and arousal, unable to think clearly – her mind far too consumed by lust. Harry pops open just enough buttons to reveal her bare chest, breasts exposed to his hungry eyes and he groans.
Taking the joint from his lips, he brings it to Y/N’s, encouraging her to take a hit. She does as instructed as Harry’s hands find her tits, kneading softly before he leans down to envelop her left nipple in his warm mouth.
She exhales the smoke a bit prematurely, taking another pull to make up for it and with her free hand, her fingers tangle into his brown locks.
“Harry,” she breathes and it’s like crack to him; hearing his name tumble off her lips like that. God, he wants that on repeat in his mind forever.
He nips at the underswell of her breast, pinching the perk nipple between his fingers. “What do you want?” he mumbles against the fleshy skin.
Y/N tugs at the roots of his hair, forcing his head up until their eyes are level. She places the joint between his lips now and slowly begins to sink to her knees.
“I want to taste you.”
Harry’s eyes are blown and bloodshot as she begins to unbutton his pants, shimmying them down his thighs just enough to allow his cock to spring free. He’s bigger than she remembers him to be; thick and full and his ruddy tip begins to leak with arousal.
Y/N laps at his slit, allowing herself a taste. It’s an unholy sight – the way her breasts gently move as she closes her mouth around him. In Harry’s intoxicated state, everything feels so much more heightened. Her mouth feels warmer, wetter… the whole thing feels filthy and he loves it.
She’s pressing slopping kisses along the length of him, angling her face to take his balls into her hot mouth as she pays them a little more attention. She pulls off him with a gentle kiss, staring up with doe eyes and a devilish grin.
“Fuck my throat.”
Harry could’ve come there and then, hearing those words fall from her lips. He takes another drag of the joint before pinching it back between his fingers and placing his open palms on the side of her head – the smoke from the joint no doubt clinging to her hair.
If she was sober, she’d tell him off for it. But she’s not and she doesn’t.
Instead, she relaxes her jaw as her mouth opens and her tongue lays flat as Harry guides his cock back to the waiting hole. Taking a shaky breath, his hips slowly begin to move, getting her used to his size until he picks up momentum.
Y/N’s eyes begin to sting, tears welling and his head hits the back of her throat, knocking the air from her lungs. Harry grows faster, eager. His chest is heaving and his lips part as he fucks into her.
It’s obscene, the noises her throat makes as he shoves himself further down with every snap of his lips. Strings of saliva begin to drip from the corners of Y/N’s mouth as she gags around him, her throat contracting as she splutters on his cock.
“Taking me so fucking well, baby.”
The praise goes straight to her cunt, wetness seeping through her little panties with every syllable he throws her way. Her eyes are shut tight now, unable to keep them open as Harry uses her for his own pleasure.
It’s sloppy and messy and needy. Neither of them have experienced anything so fucking sexy in their lives. The sex was good before, but this time – sneaking around and much higher than previously – it’s even more intense.
It doesn’t take much for Harry to near his end. And when Y/N cradles his heavy balls in her hand, fingernails ghosting over the divots of skin, Harry’s certain he’s about to meet his maker.
He pulls out of her mouth harshly, not giving her the chance to tell him she needs his cum drowning her throat. His arousal is too quick to paint her chest, coating her nipples in creamy ecstasy as Y/N struggles to catch her breath.
He comes, a lot, but his stamina doesn’t falter. She’s barely given chance to admire the artwork he marked her with before he’s tugging her up by the crook of her elbow. Y/N’s shoved against the foot of the bed, legs spread and ass in the air, tummy on the mattress.
Harry’s hands are hungry on her hips, bunching up the bottom of her sundress until it rests on her lower back. He feels over her subtle asscheeks, offering three spanks to her left and whimpering as the fleshy skin wobbles.
“Harry, please.”
She’s whining now, eager to be filled again. Harry tugs her little thong to the side, her cunt glistening and puffy from neglect. He wants to taste her, spend an eternity between her soaked thighs but the way Y/N wiggles her hips and backs up against him suggests she needs something more right now.
“I just wanna taste you for a bit,” he says.
She’s shaking her head, despite how badly she wants to feel him lapping up her pussy. She’s far too soaked and horny to settle for his tongue right now.
“Next time.”
Harry’s heart races a little at that. Next time? So, she plans for there to be. Not that Harry has a problem with it. He’d be more than fucking happy to make this a regualr thing if she wanted it.
Listening to her request, he lines his head with her entrance, pushing through her folds to coat himself in her slickness. Her legs are trembling in need, face smushed into the blanket and she knows she’s ruining it with her makeup and the come that covers her tits, but she cannot bring herself to care.
With the joint still between his fingers, Harry brings it back to his lips for another drag. He lines himself back with her puckering hole and gentle sheaths inside. She’s tight – tighter than he remembers – and her walls are so fucking slick it feels like he’s being swallowed whole.
A shriek escapes Y/N’s mouth at the familiar intrusion, the way he stretches and fills her to the brim. Her mind feels dizzy, vision dotting with white lights as Harry begins to fuck the soul out of her.
It’s fast and deep, and she’s quick to soak his pubic bone with arousal. Harry leans over her body, guiding the joint to her lips, allowing her a puff. “Hold onto that for me, gorgeous.”
She takes it from her lips and stretches her arm above her head, wrist against the blanket and joint pointing in the air. His hands are back on her hips as he grips her tight.
“Good girl, angel.”
Smack!
His pace is criminal, balls slapping against her throbbing clit with every hit of his hips that he delivers. She’s struggling to stay coherent, unable to string a sentence together as she begs him for more, more, more.
Harry grips her hips hard, bringing her cunt to him as he fucks into her. Y/N’s body is limp — lets him use her as a toy for his own pleasure and takes whatever he offers.
She shouldn’t enjoy this so much, getting fucked by her friend, her roommate. But it’s too good to realise they’re stepping on dangerous territory. With the promise of next time.
“Tight little cunt was fucking made for me.”
“It’s yours! I’m yours!”
Her words are a struggle to speak, heart in her throat as her pussy drips for him. It’s too much for Harry. To see her so bare and willing and done for him. To know the affect he has on her, to be buried so fucking deep in her cunt that she can hardly talk.
His orgasm creeps up on him quickly, cock twitching within the tight confinements of her walls. She feels it, she feels everything. And it only spurs her release on, too.
Her cunt clenches around him, legs beginning to tremble and a wanton cry crawls out from her lips. “I’m gonna come!”
Harry keeps his pace steady, coaxes her through it with deep and precise strokes. The tip of his cock continues to pinch at her cervix, the curve in his length rubbing deliciously against her g-spot.
Y/N shudders around him, desperate to milk him for all he’s got as she explodes. She’s quick to bury her face into the blanket, muffling her screams as her vision spots black and white kaleidoscopes behind her eyes.
“Give it to me, baby. Come all over me… that’s it.”
He’s quick to follow, bursts of hot come painting the walls of her cunt and Harry stills inside of her, knees buckling as he tries to keep himself steady.
It’s quiet for a moment, save for their heavy breathing and wheezing chests.
It must be true what they say about post-nut clarity. Because as they come down from their highs, there’s a tension in the room that’s far too suffocating. And it only gets worse when Harry slowly pulls out of her cunt and leaves her bent over Niall’s bed, dripping onto the blanket beneath her.
Harry clears his throat as he tucks himself back into his pants and watches Y/N wobble to her feet as she stands. They don’t look at each other, at least not face-to-face.
Her tits are still out and his arousal on her chest has transferred to the blanket. She's quick to fix her dress and her underwear — more than a little uncomfortable with the feeling of Harry’s come dribbling out of her.
She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “We should leave separately, so no one suspects anything.”
Harry’s not given much time to confer before she shimmies out of Niall’s room and down the hall to the closest bathroom. He’s left there, slightly stunned and a little embarrassed. It’s a bit confusing, it didn’t feel like a mistake after the last time. But now, with how quickly she wanted to leave, Harry worries she regrets it.
He scratches at the back of his head, wincing at the sight of Niall’s blanket. There’s come stains on the green fabric and the joint that Y/N was supposed to hold had been dropped mid-orgasm and burnt a small hole through the blanket.
Deciding it would be best to just replace it, Harry bunches the blanket up into a ball and shoves it in the trash can in the corner of the room — making a mental note to buy Niall a new one.
It’s the least of his concerns, though.
Because despite Harry’s worry about Y/N’s regret, he still craves her touch and her presence. And she’s just the same — cleaning herself up in the bathroom and splashing water in her face to try to calm down.
All she can think about is how much she needs him and it doesn’t feel just sexual anymore. For either of them.
What the hell have they gotten themselves into?
//
let me know what you thought :)
tags: @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @kissfromadove
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#imagine harry styles#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#harry styles angst
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part 1 - I was requested more adeuce, so I’m here to deliver!
Content: bratty!Ace, praise kink, double penetration.
Everyone is 18+ per my bio ; Afab!reader, smut.
“Do you think… they were coming on to us?”
It’s Deuce who brings it up to Ace first, in the middle of the night while their other roommates slept. Ace turns in his bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. His boner had just subsided, but hearing Deuce’s question resurfaced the memories he was trying so desperately to repress. He curses his virgin cock for being so sensitive and perking back up at the mere mention of you.
“I don’t know.” Ace grumbles back. He thinks he’s good at reading people- his brother taught him that magicians need to be; it was the most powerful tool in a magician’s arsenal- but you were an enigma to him. You guys were friends, right? So maybe Ace should feel good that you trusted him enough to walk around practically naked in front of them. Maybe it was a breach of your trust in them that he and Deuce were ogling you all night, with your hardened nipples and smackable ass and puffy pussy on display… Still, Ace couldn’t pull his eyes away. He couldn’t pretend like he didn’t imagine the way it felt to be balls deep inside of your cunt whenever you bent over in front of him.
Then there’s Deuce, who wouldn’t be able to tell if someone was hitting on him if they fell out of the sky like cauldron and put him in a coma. He’d have girls approach him in his delinquent days, the type of girls who found his motorcycle and mean streak charming, but their intentions were much easier to understand. Even then, his fellow gang members would need to pry his eyes open and point out when a girl was interested in him.
He saw it in you, that same coquettish desire, just a little bit. He saw it in the way your touches lingered, the way your eyelashes fluttered, the way your heartbeat raced as you cuddled them last night. He couldn’t be sure, though, and he didn’t want to lose your friendship all because he couldn’t keep his dirty mind at bay.
The next day at lunch is normal. You laugh with them, steal food off of Deuce’s plate, scold Grim for picking fights with Ace- it was almost as if your advances really were just in their heads.
So when you invite them over again that night, Ace and Deuce have no reason to say no.
♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️
Deuce stood, mouth agape. Ace sputtered and choked.
The two boys, rambunctious and rowdy as ever, were not expecting you to greet them as naked as the day you were born when they enthusiastically swung open the Ramshackle Dorm’s front door.
For a while it’s a staring match. Neither boy confident enough to make the first move, opting instead to stare slack-jawed at your boobs. You decide that you’ve finally had enough, moving their hands so that each boy cupped one of your breasts. You’re sure they can feel your erratic heartbeat, the one giveaway you couldn’t mask under your seductress facade, that exposed you to be just as nervous as them.
“Well,” you start, timidly biting your lip in a way that stirs something animalistic in the two boys. “Do you get it now?”
They do.
Before you’re even aware of what’s happening, Ace’s mouth is on yours, a tongue shyly working it’s way between your lips. Deuce opts for suckling on the junction of your neck and shoulder. The door is left open wide open, forgotten by the two boys who were now set on ravishing your body.
It isn’t long before their clothes are strewn onto the floor, belts and shoes and socks and underwear littered along the path from the doorway to your bedroom. Two sets of hands roam your body, inexperienced and definitely out of sync, but you can’t help but grow wet at your friends finally touching you in the way that you had fantasized about for months.
You get on your knees and marvel at the two cocks standing straight at attention for you. You take a second to admire their differences- Deuce’s was thicker and Ace’s was longer, a delightful tuft of dark blue hair along the former’s base and a clean shaven latter- before stroking one in each hand. Deuce’s breath comes out more like a stutter, one of his hands covering his mouth in surprise. Ace is more impatient, opting to buck his cock into your hand with a soft grumble.
“So,” you begin teasingly, “who caught on first?”
Ace flickers his eyes toward Deuce, but says nothing. You stare into his cyan eyes and let a small smile grace your lips.
“Good boy, Deuce.” You say, giving kissing the tip of his cock. Your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick a stripe up the underside of his member while continuing to stroke Ace. “Aren’t you just a good, smart boy, hm?”
The praise goes straight to his cock, throbbing against your tongue. You giggle as Deuce nods, an intense blush spread across his face like a wildfire.
You feel something poke the other side of your face. You look up at Ace to see his unmistakable pout. A brat through and through.
“Stop complaining,” you say, rolling your eyes at the boy. Still, that doesn’t stop you from wrapping your lips around the head of his cock for just a moment, a preview of what was to come that made his knees buckle. “I have to reward Deuce first.”
You return your attention to Deuce and begin to take him into your mouth. Inch by inch, you bob your head slowly down his length until you’ve reached his base. Deuce tentatively reaches down to grasp your hair, shyly moving your mouth along his cock between shaky breaths.
“‘snot fair…” Ace mutters, practically fucking your fist. In protest, you release your grip around him and smile around Deuce’s cock when Ace lets out a small whine.
“You better start being good or maybe Deuce will be the only one inside me tonight.”
Deuce tauntingly chuckles towards Ace at the thought before quickly shutting up once you place your mouth back on his cock. You increase your speed and suck harder until you hear his breath hitch. He thrusts up into your mouth and cums hard, spilling his seed down your throat.
“I-I’m so, so sorry!” Deuce stutters, embarrassed but aroused when you swallow and lick your lips. “I should’ve warned you-“
“No need to be sorry, baby. You did so good.” You give him a chaste kiss as you rise from your spot on the ground. You move over to sit on your bed and spread your legs wide as an invitation.
Deuce’s cock is still soft after his orgasm, but growing harder again as he watches you move your fingers into your dripping pussy.
Ace uses this to his advantage and moves to line his cock up with your entrance, but you gently push him away with your foot. Your eyebrow raises, and you cock your head to one side.
“Wanna apologize for being a brat first?” You tease as Ace huffs indignantly.
“I’m sorry.” He says gruffly. He moves to enter you again, but you stop him.
You shake your head, closing your legs to both boys’ dismay. “Try again. Mean it.”
“Wait, shit-” Ace whines, his cock throbbing and aching for any relief it could get. “I-I’m sorry. Please let me fuck you, I need it so bad.”
Satisfied, you open your legs again and finally, finally Ace is able to plunge himself inside of you, gasping at how tight and wet and warm you felt inside.
You can’t help from moaning at how enthusiastically Ace thrusts into you, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he fucks you hard. The sight of Ace fucking you out of your wits paired with the lewd sounds of your wet pussy around his cock have Deuce rock hard once again. You lock eyes with him and nod toward your bedside drawer.
Deuce’s blush might as well have been permanently tattooed onto his face by the time he opens the drawer and examines its contents. A vibrator, a bottle of lube, and a small tapered buttplug sit neatly at the bottom of it.
“S-stretch me out, Deuce?” You’re able to manage, Ace unrelenting in his thrusts. “Wanna feel you both in me-“
You adjust your position with Ace so that he’s on his back. You lay against him, chests flush against each other so that your ass is on display.
“Are you sure, _____?“
You nod your head affirmatively and feel his fingers experimentally prod your ass. The cold lube against your hole makes your body tense, but you force yourself to relax as you feel a finger enter inside.
Ace, in a shocking display of good sportsmanship, stills his hips as Deuce prepares you. Slick fingers work themselves in and out of your ass, stretching you out deliciously.
“T-that’s good Deuce,” you say once you’re ready. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Deuce sloppily applies the lube to his cock and slowly enters you. You can help the loud, drawn out moan that escapes your throat when he’s fully sheathed inside, the feeling of being so full overwhelming your senses.
The boys find a surprisingly harmonious rhythm, thrusting into you in tandem. You’ve never felt so full- the nights you’ve had with your buttplug and vibrator in each hole held no candle to Ace and Deuce thrusting into you, stretching you out, enjoying your body together.
You cum first- how could you not? Your walls convulsing around the two boys send them over the edge just after you- first Ace, then Deuce. You can feel their cum seep out of both your entrances as they pull out, rolling over onto your tiny mattress.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted that,” you admit softly, feeling each boy cling sweatily onto your body from either side. “Maybe next time the both of you can stop your bickering for a moment and touch each other, too?”
Ace blushes, feigning a disgusted look before burying his face into the side of your neck. Deuce is already peppering your collarbone and shoulders with kisses and small love bites, trying to ignore what you had said but unable to hide his own flushed face.
Well, the three of us will have a lot of time to figure it out, you think to yourself with a chuckle as the three of you drift to sleep in a mess of limbs and kisses.
♠️❤️♠️❤️♠️
Of course, after not arriving back to the dorm before curfew, Riddle has their heads. Collared and magicless, Ace and Deuce can at least both agree that it was worth it.
dividers by firefly-graphics
Idiots to lovers, all of them.
#adeuce x reader#deuce spade x reader smut#ace trappola x reader smut#twst smut#twisted wonderland smut
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Arda University
Synopsis: Frodo is anxiously preparing for his Algebra exam. His friends take him on a little quest to cheer him up.
Lighthearted little fic, just for fun. I hope you like it <3
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: drug mention
Additional tags: daddy kink (mentioned)
Frodo sighed deeply for the fifth time in a row, letting his head drop onto the math textbook on the table, mumbling something along the lines of wanting to drop out. “Are you alright, Mr. Frodo?” Sam, his roommate, walked over to his desk and presented a mug of hot chocolate to the tired hobbit. Frodo gladly accepted the comforting beverage and looked up at his friend wearily. “I cannot do this anymore Sam. Professor Saruman is notorious for making his exams almost impossible to pass and my cousin Merry failed his class twice.” Samwise Gamgee chocked back a laugh: “Begging your pardon, Mr. Frodo but I met your cousin Merry and he is not the brightest bulb in the chandelier.”
As if on command, a characteristic knock on the door announced the arrival of Merry. Sam opened the door. “Hi Sam, hi Frodo,” Merry and Pippin, whom the former was rarely seen without, said in unison. Sam’s sigh as he let them in was the only greeting they got from him. In Samwise Gamgee’s opinion, these two were never up to any good. Frodo greeted them with a “hmmm,” barely looking up from his textbook. “Frodo, I heard you’re taking Algebra with Saruman tomorrow, huh?” Merry said sympathetically, “so we came to give you our condolences in person.” Frodo let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling with an empty expression.
“Oh Eru, I am done for,” the hobbit proclaimed dramatically, “I could not have chosen a more awful class to take.” Pippin chuckled mischievously. “Try Sindarin 101 if you really want to be humbled. Word is, the last exam was so bad even Legolas failed.” Sam looked over at the youngest hobbit with furrowed brows. “That is hardly possible. Legolas is an elf, he grew up speaking Sindarin.” Pippin started laughing hysterically. “And that’s not even the worst of it! The professor is his father!” Sam made it clear that he did not believe a word that came out of Pippin’s mouth.
Merry and Pippin insisted on dragging Frodo and Sam along to meet with Aragorn, stating that “Aragorn tells this story so much better, we don’t know all the facts” and “Frodo needs a break from studying anyway.” Thus, the four of them made their way from their dorm, Shire, to Gondor, where Aragorn and his roommate Boromir, the Lords of Gondor, lived. Why they were being referred to as “the Lords,” no one knew. “Strider, open up!” Pippin called loudly as he knocked on the door. Aragorn looked terrible. He was the kind of guy that went to every single party. No one knew when he had last slept, or showered for that matter. Boromir looked equally tired, albeit in a different way. He appeared to have been studying for three days straight.
They made themselves comfortable on the floor with a bowl of popcorn after Aragorn had agreed to tell the full story of the legendary Sindarin 101 exam. Aragorn sighed deeply, fighting back laughter as he prepared himself. “Okay, so you guys remember Arwen, right?” “Your crush?” Pippin asked unabashedly, wincing as Sam elbowed him in the ribs. Boromir let out a snort before walking out to find a more quiet place to study.
Aragorn sighed again. “Anyway. Professor Oropherion demands a lot. His exams are hard, there are a lot of books to read in preparation. Legolas, being the lazy fucker that he is, did not read a single book on the list, hoping that his father would let him pass. Then, a week or so before the exam, Oropherion asks his son how the studying is going and if he needs help with anything. Turns out, his father would, in fact, not just let him pass.” Frodo piped up: “And that is obviously why he failed.” But Aragorn merely shook his head. “No, Frodo, that is not even the half of it.”
“That is where Arwen comes into play. She is a natural. She loves the assigned reading and even goes to office hours to discuss it. Legolas told me he failed the exam because he cheated. Copied off all of Arwen’s answers. But that is where it gets confusing. Arwen got an A, so we were all wondering how Legolas could have fucked it up this badly.” Sam nodded thoughtfully, asking himself the same thing. “So how did it happen? Did he get caught?” The hobbit asked. “No, Sam,” Aragorn replied, “not exactly caught. Although his father must have figured it out somehow. At that point, I still had little idea about what had actually happened at the exam, but I asked Legolas’ roommate Gimli to distract him so I could sneak in and take a look at the graded exam.”
Aragorn took a dramatically long sip of his energy drink before continuing with his account. “All of Legolas’ stolen answers were correct, except for the last one. A question about Ecthelion’s ‘Annals of Gondolin’ that must have been particularly tough.” “But if Legolas got everything else right, why did he fail?” Frodo interrupted impatiently, eager to get back to studying. “Well, Legolas wrote ‘goheno nin ada, ni neth ogol’ as his answer.” “Wait, wouldn’t it have to be ‘ion’?” Frodo was confused. Why would Legolas write ‘Sorry Daddy, I’ve been a bad girl’ when confessing to his father that he had not studied for the exam? “Frodo.” Aragorn looked at the hobbit intensely. “I told you that Legolas copied every single answer.” “But that still makes no sense, Thranduil is not Arwen’s fath- OH ERU ILÚVATAR!”
The silence was deafening as the hobbits processed the information Aragorn had just given them. “I still don’t get it,” Pippin confessed. Merry leaned over and whispered something in his ear. “They WHAT?” he exclaimed in shock, “I mean, personally, I get it, Legolas’ dad is super hot and all, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting this at all, I mean she seems like such a nun.” Aragorn was visibly upset. It was funny enough that Legolas failed his exam, but having to recount how Arwen, the love of his life, was with another elf instead of with him, continued to break his heart every time he thought about it.
The four hobbits left Aragorn alone, reassuring him that they would not tell anyone and that Arwen would ultimately come to her senses. “Don’t worry, she probably only wants an easy way to pass,” Merry told Aragorn sympathetically. It did not reassure him whatsoever. When Frodo and Sam arrived back in their room, Frodo sighed deeply and sat down at his desk, desperately trying to remember how differential equations and algebraic structures worked. Those damned rings were ruining his life, he hated them so much. Sam went to bed early, urging Frodo to do the same. But the anxious hobbit stayed up studying all night, resulting in him being a shaky mess when Sam woke up again the next morning.
Sam, Merry and Pippin were gathered in Sam and Frodo’s dorm, anxiously waiting for Frodo to return from the dreaded exam with Saruman. When he did, he looked more triumphant than they had anticipated. “I knew you could do it, Mr. Frodo!” Sam exclaimed excitedly, happy that his friend was in high spirits again. Frodo shook his head. “Saruman was sick! He has some sort of eye infection, so Gandalf took over for him. He was already high as a kite when the exam started so he did not notice that half the class was cheating and when I tried to ask him a question he told me he had no idea what I was talking about and just handed me the sheet with the solutions!” The four hobbits laughed heartily. There could not have been a better outcome to that exam.
[the day before, in the office of Saruman and Gandalf]
“Gandalf, my friend, do you have to smoke your longbottom leaf in here?” Saruman complained, rubbing his eyes.
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#lotr fanfic#lotr fanfiction#fanfiction#lady of imladris fics#college AU#lord of the rings fanfic#lord of the rings fanfiction#lotr college au#lord of the rings college au#lotr au#lord of the rings au#crack fic
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Happy Halloweenmonth: A ghost story, but not that spooky
I’m re-writing and posting a story that I previously posted, for @unusual-ly and her ghost stories day of Halloweenmonth! I can’t currently find my previous post so I just wrote down as much as I could remember here.
Anyone who has been following me for years maybe remember this story (and other weird stuff that happened in my former college dorms.) For those of you that are new, welcome!
To set the scene, we have (some names changed bc these are real people):
Me, Dani, nineteen at the time this happened;
My roommate, Lizzie, also a college freshman at the tail end of our first semester;
Becca, another girl who shares our dorm;
Matilda, the fourth girl who shares our dorm.
(The way our dorm was set up was like a mini-apartment, bc Honors students got the best dorms; there were two single rooms and one double room, we all shared two bathrooms, a common living room area, and a kitchenette; Lizzie and I shared the double bedroom, Becca got one of the single rooms, and Matilda had the other single room.)
And Payton, a boy from the floor below us who commonly hung out in our dorm with us. He all but slept there. He was very welcome there.
Bear with me here, because the corporeal living nonsense is somewhat important to the supernatural thing that this is about.
Matilda, Becca, and Lizzie were all extroverts who got along like a house on fire and spent the majority of the first semester being absolute best friends. I, being the autistic introvert I am, was very happy to sit at my desk in my room and let them be best friends. However, near the end of December – and right as finals arrived to challenge us mere freshmen – Matilda had a major change of mood and a GIGANTIC falling out with Becca and Lizzie. There was screaming, doors being slammed (by Matilda), and for the first time since I moved into that dorm, we all started actively locking our doors because we were worried that Matilda would steal from us.
(Looking back, I see that there were far better ways to handle this. But from the perspective of me then, facing such conflict for the very first time away from home, I didn’t know what to do.)
Eventually, Becca and Lizzie felt threatened in their own dorm. I still hadn’t been fully involved in Matilda’s mistreatment, but I supported Lizzie and Becca when we went to the RA (basically, the dude in charge of dealing with any room/ roommate disputes on our floor) to see if something could be done to change rooms.
It wound up being turned back on us. RA promised to talk to Matilda, and even called in his supervisor about the situation; but when we were called back after they talked to Matilda, we were told simply that it seemed we were the bad guys in this situation and we needed to be “more supportive” of her.
Yes. Apparently we needed to be more supportive of the girl who was acting intimidating towards us in our own dorm.
(Again, looking back, there were better ways to handle this, I’m sure. At the time, I had no such ideas.)
So we go back to our dorm. We gather in Lizzie’s and my double-room, across the common area from Matilda’s room and Becca’s right next to it, where Becca has a panic attack because of all of this.
Alright, here’s where the ghost stuff finally comes in! Throughout the semester, I had learned that Becca believed the spirit of her deceased, beloved grandfather had become her guardian angel. This was the least of the spooky things that had come to light, considering that I swore my deceased dog slept at the foot of my bed (I heard her tags jingling! A lot!) and there was a ghost named Josh who haunted the building (and had made plenty of things go missing.)
So we call Payton, because we have no idea who else to call, who’s across the tiny campus doing training for his campus representative (tour guide) job, and he comes running to us. And as he comes in, he asks us who else was here.
What do you mean, who else? We say. We haven’t called anyone.
Payton says he saw an old white-haired man coming out the door of our dorm room (the main door, into the hallway, not the door to the double bedroom.) He thought at first that the man was the counselor on 24/7 duty that night and that we had called him, because the man beckoned to Payton and then walked away down the hall as Payton opened the door.
When Payton describes the man, Becca says it matches her grandfather exactly.
So maybe Becca’s grandfather thought he could help.
We did end up calling a counselor about this to see what could be done. When she arrived, she was a lady in her thirties with dark hair. Nothing like an old white-haired man.
So yeah, maybe not a spooky ghost story, but I have no reason not to believe what Payton saw.
There were far weirder things on that campus.
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ROPE (1948)
Director: Alfred Hitchcock
Screenwriter: Arthur Laurents
Cast: James Stewart, John Dall, Farley Granger
Genre: psychological crime thriller
Two friends murder their former classmate as an intellectual exercise.
One of my favorite Hitchcock films. Both in part of what went into making this movie, its LGBTQ+ casting, and its monologue.
I'm down for any theme that's about reality checking people with superiority complexes.
The original play was likely based on the real-life murder of a 14 year old by two students who believed they could commit the "perfect crime".
Known for its technical feat with its long shots, creatively masking the cuts in order to change out the reels. I'm simplifying here, but it's worth looking into in order to appreciate. Also Hitchcock's first technicolor movie.
The movie didn't do well in its time. The studio distanced from the movie because of its overt queer context. It was banned in some locations and received a Mature rating.
Didn't know this before watching Matt Baume's video the fact but James Stewart's character, Rupert Cadell, was originally gay and it would have been rad to see a more queer-coded character! Like as much as I love James Stewart, it's unfortunate he couldn't pull it off. But it's great to know now that-that was how it's meant to be in the original play and what Hitchcock had intended (Stewart was not his first choice)! Mind-blown.
Along with that, it's always fascinating to know what the Hays code was obsessed with, and what they missed for any movie. It also just gets my gears turning because I feel like audiences now would miss these innuendos too, now that writers and directors don't have to rely on them. And with Rope in particular, as mentioned the studio bowed out because of this. And the audiences were like, "THIS IS GAY! THIS IS VERY GAY!" and had it banned in some places. But a fear years ago I was watching this with a straight friend, they had no idea there was any gay subtext.
"The Secret Gay Love Affair Behind Alfred Hitchcock's Rope" Matt Baume, 2023
"Rope Needs More Gay", Rantasmo, 2016
Again, because of the re-writes, the casting, the fact that Rupert Cadell reads as straight, it could easily read as condemning gay people as being inherently evil and murderers. But yeah, I just never watched it with that lens even without knowing Cadell was straight. Many people did view it that way though (Rantasmo) but with Baume's research I think the next time I watch it, I will appreciate it further.
And to be honest, everyone reads Stewart as straight or sexless but not me, at least not for his roles. And I think it's because I saw some trash tabloid talking how he and Henry Fonda were totally boyfriends because they lived together when they were unknown and broke as shit, even slept in the same bed. While that is true that they lived together - there's no such thing as roommates anymore? haha. They were best friends the rest of their lives, but as far as the "lovers" thing that didn't really have any evidence. That's with being fully aware that Hollywood likes to keep secrets. But not even a single hearsay from people behind the scenes... um.
Also, if Cadell's character was actually read as queer, maybe Hoover wouldn't have felt this about the movie? Because what the hell? haha.
"I mean that tonight you've made me ashamed of every concept I ever had of superior or inferior beings. But I thank you for that shame, because now O know that we are each of us a separate human being, Brandon. With the right to live and work and think as individuals, but with an obligation to the society we live in. By what right do you dare say that there's a superior few to which you belong? By what right did you dare decide that, that boy in there was inferior and therefore could be killed? Did you think you were God, Brandon? Is that what you thought when you choked the life out of him? Is that what you thought when you served food from his grave? I don't know what you thought or what you are, but I know what you've done. You've murdered! You've strangled the life out of another fellow human being who could live and love as you never could - and never will again."
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February 12th, 2024
Last day in Amsterdam and we went to the cafe former Italian roommate wanted to go to yesterday. Apparently they're famous for their matcha, so we all got some except for authentic australian for got a flat white. Third culture australian (TCA) wanted a dirty matcha (shot of espresso) and the guy was very confused, but agreed to do it anyway. Everyone got crossiants except for me because it looked like they didn't have enough. When it was my turn to order I asked the owner what his favorite cake was and he immediately brightened up, talking to me about each of the cakes in the display. I chose the one he immediately went to which was passionfruit. That was absolutely the correct decision. Honestly, it was one of if not the best cake I've ever had in my life. Wandu cafe I love you so much.
Downstairs they had a little art exhibit which I was also very cool and we ended up staying and talking for a bit.
Afterwards we walked around some more, did a little shopping (or window shopping in my case) and got loaded fries. In the square there was this guy who was a pigeon whisperer and they kept landing on him and flocking around him. Ive never been more jealous. Our last stop before the train was for the original stroopwaffles which were good but expensive. It also took them forever to get mine, I'm pretty sure they lost my ticket. When they finally did bring it out I was standing right in front of the door when the guy came out looking for me and was complaining he couldn't see me. So that's the 2nd dutch person I've been invisible to, I have no idea what's going on here.
On the train ride back I started the drawings from the last few days (I took a break because I didn't have the time/energy) and I did the skull first. It's authentic Australians favorite painting and he asked me if I could do it in neon colors. Everyone slept for most of the ride and we said goodbye to former Italian in Maastricht before getting on the bus to Aachen. It's still Karneval so lots of people on the bus were in costumes and playing music but we were too exhausted to join in. TCA did end up going out that night to see the celebrations but I called T and then watched vampire diaries with authentic australian.
I did stay up too late drawing but ah well.
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Good morning my beloved (or at least, it is morning for both of us when I am sending this but hopefully you've gotten to sleep in) and I just wanted to say two things:
1) yes I got your asks and I am so hinged right along with you I love your blorbos like they are my own <3
And 2) I can so so relate to your just wanting to be like "normal" girls but knowing in your bones you'd never be able to be like them. That was my whole childhood, both before and after I started socially transitioning, bc it's like,,,,, you (general you) just want so badly to be normal and yet you know you never will be and it hurts, and it's like mourning something you (general you) never lost in the first place, if that makes sense?? And I'm sure you hear this all the time, esp from people older, and so I'm so so sorry to say it again, but it does genuinely get better as you get older, I promise. You may never be a "normal" girl with "normal" interests and capabilities, but like you even said right in your post, yeah your roommates are cool, us tumblr mutuals are cool, and you're learning who you are, and that's amazing and wonderful and you deserve every bit of joy you get from that
The usual disclaimer of I have severe brain fog applies, but also: you really are epic, I promise, and if you ever need anything just lmk, not that I'd be able to do much across the ocean but I almost always can listen, and I love you very much and good luck and everything <33333
Tomas if I hadn't asked for your hand in very serious and legally binding marriage already that would've sealed the deal. Actually let me get the image again because the sentiment is still there in my heart.
Okay I needed to say it. So. In order:
I did sleep in! I love sleeping in. Sleeping in my beloved. I slept in, did my groceries like the adult I am (and I'm eating both fruits & veg's AND candy, god I love just buying my own stuff), took a shower, and ate pizza in front of the two Deadpool movies. Great day, would do again.
1) well they can be your blorbos too for the low low price of uh - actually it's not a low price it's a good like at least dozen hours just for season one of Daredevil, and that's probably shorter than trying the comics. But. Low low price of a dozen hours and some violence on screen. Otherwise I can keep telling you about it in increasingly detailed rants I love doing that also <3 one thing we'll have in our beautiful home once we're very legally bindingly married will be a big box for hinges at the door the way people have shoe racks. You put your hinges in it when you come in because we want the least hinged environment possible. <3 <3
2) yesss I knew you'd get it, former weird girls assemble and such. I guess I'm not fully out of the weird girl woods, but also maybe if you ever were a weird girl she's always inside of you 🤔 anyway. I know it gets better I'm seeing it real time!! I made cooler friends in high school and I'm making even cooler friends in uni & outside of it and keeping only the best. I'm wearing clothes I like after years of slowing replacing my kid wardrobe with long term pieces. I know what I like and how I like it and by that point I know that like, there will always be someone who'll notice me and like me if I'm loud enough about myself.
It's just the combo of weird girl + aro(ace) + some flavour of neurodivergent. I want to be more spontaneous and meet people and try dating things but my brain's need for structure and my impressive aura of non-romanceability are not helping.
Like you want to be normal but you don't want to become normal, you just want to always have been!! Because by this point becoming normal would be both painful but also just straight up impossible. It's like ADHD in that I am mourning this ethereal potential that rationally I know doesn't exist and never existed.
I just feel like I'm both too young to be here but also already late, which of course you're going to feel like that if you compare yourself to others, but y'know. People older than me at the same stage of life are doing more standard normal things and hitting milestones I should be hitting, and my younger cousins are cooler than me and have boyfriends/girlfriends. My younger brother's going to have a better mark on his first real degree and bring someone home earlier than me, and my only accomplishments of speaking english and having gone abroad will be nothing compared to everyone else hitting milestones Better than me somehow. Anyway. The point is comparison sucks because the only good time for me to hit any milestone is when I do it, because I'm living my life and not anyone else's, but y'know. At least I think most people that actually matter in my life think I'm cool so eh.
WELL. Thank you for the space to be unhinged about many various things. I think you're biased in thinking I'm epic but since I'm getting a good grade in friend I'll take it honestly. You're also epic, I give you a 20/20 in friend and a ring that both is practical so you can wear it even while doing manual tasks and elegant because you are of course worth it. I hope YOU have a good day when you read this (because you're probably asleep/preparing for Morpheus so you should see this in the morning) and I love yoouu <3 <3 <3
#audio/video call whenever you want i have a webcam now!!#thank you so so much for the nice words i already know in my brain what's going on#but it's nice to have someone validate what's going on#wow i have an asks tag now
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thoughts on kindness and empathy
Hi Ana,
I haven’t slept properly in days. Between working, trying to get healthy, studying for my masters, and on top of that, a bit of boy drama (side note: my god, can you believe we’re still not over this in 2023), it has been wild. I think, in general, trying is hard. But we do it anyway, because what’s the point of life without it.
This week, I’ve been pondering on kindness and empathy. Within the past five years, maybe more, I have forged so many connections with random people around the world. It didn’t start in London, but I think my experience there was one of the first few times that I was clearly faced with how lonely people actually are, and sometimes all they need is a good conversation.
From talking to our tourbus driver (and former lorry driver - I felt the need to include this for context, as this was around the time a lorry got into an accident in the UK and it was eventually revealed that they were trying to traffic humans in it, so it made for interesting conversation) John over a meal at no other than McDonald’s, to that cute barista from Starbucks who had Filipino roommates, and even ‘R’ who would continue to call me over google meet many months after, just to chat and share about our days.
All that from barely a two-week trip that made me ill.
Fast-forward to 2023, on Wednesday, I was on a call with ‘B’. We had only met once, and yet I remembered it was his birthday so I sent him a quick greeting. He thanked me for being one of the only five who did. It wasn’t a big deal but this is a man who has spent three decades in the world, most of them in Australia - and yet, he spent his birthday working at home and eventually calling me for almost a two-hour conversation. I had just come home from a looong day of work then (My boss was in Perth for the week, so I’ve been coming into the office more), and we just... talked. It was nice.
But it got me thinking about how open my line is for people who need to talk.
I’ve spent countless hours talking to you on the phone and in person so I think you’d understand more than anyone how open I am to hearing and listening to other people’s stories. Some days, I joke about how I should start charging people (especially men!) who try to unload their emotions in my dm’s or with me in general, but most days, I feel honoured.
How lovely it is to be the friend or even acquaintance that they trusted with their stories. I am honoured and grateful, and I hope nothing bad enough ever happens to me that I forget to be kind and empathetic when people reach out and tell me about their days, and their lives.
Today was a bit difficult for me. I’ve been trying to self-soothe and not let my anxiety about all the messy parts of life take over. Thankfully, I have good friends and sisters who give me support and cuddles when it’s what I need.
But some not-so-good days, like this one in particular, I wish the love, in the form of communication, empathy and kindness that I’ve been putting into the world finds its way back to me. Not really as a payback, but some days, I need it too.
Thank you for agreeing to do this with me, listening to my stories, and sharing your own.
I look forward to reading your letter.
X,
Tabi
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I'm a newly discovered protector and I've come to realize that, sometimes your headmates can have meltdowns over the smallest things. I won't name him, but a headmate had a meltdown because Spotify was being frustrating.
Now you might read that and think "What the fuck? That's nothing to be upset about." And normally you'd be correct. For the last two months, we have been put through emotional and mental torment by our ex roommate. They've threatened to take the things we love, and have said they don't care if we end up homeless, they just want us to leave. Essentially saying "I don't care if you're starving on the street, you just need to be out."
They wanted to kick us out because one day a headmate was telling them something that was deeply bothering her, and instead of listening and being receptive of her emotions, they were laughing and texting on their phone and completely ignoring her. Headmate got frustrated and said "You have no emotional intelligence" and after that our ex toxic roommate just got up and locked themselves in our shared room for four days straight and ignored us while we slept in the couch.
She tried to tell them that she didn't mean to hurt their feelings, and she didn't mean for it to come out like it did. She was frustrated and looking for emotional and mental support from a friend and was being completely ignored. This went on for four days. Then one day they tell us they're going to stay somewhere else. It was fine until they told their friends, now partners that we cornered them and made them feel unsafe.
Next thing you know a headmate is crying to the point of almost throwing up, and is disgusted and appalled by themselves so much, that they started calling themselves a monster. The ex roommate heard this, and of course when their friend, now partner and essentially down played what that headmate was feeling. They even went so far as to ask "Why are you so upset? Is because of the way you made me fucking feel? Or because of how you made us leave our home?" As if...drilling in the thought of "This is your fault. You're the reason this is happening"
When they were leaving the first time, they made a direct jab at our trauma involving running away from home. Which at the time, we didn't register because we were too busy crying and hating ourselves. "If you're going to sneak off with your friend while I'm gone, at least tell me first." Not only did they use trauma against us, they knew specifically which alter that trauma belongs too. And if it weren't for that specific alter, we wouldn't be here today. If they hadn't stopped our former host from running away from our abusive home with our grandparents, we wouldn't be here typing this right now. And they knew that.
They also had the audacity to bring up someone that wasn't even involved. For some reason they never liked it when we spoke to this person, and would always assume we would talk bad about them to this friend. Even going so far as to read over our shoulder while messaging them. Eventually we got tired of it and was worried for this friend's safety, so we ended up ghosting them. And we hate ourselves for it.
When we started talking to them again, we were talking about how COVID was fucking awful and kicking our ass, and that it fucking sucked. Ex roommate knocked on our door and said "My friends and I can hear you talking shit about me"
We looked them dead in the eye and said "Is your name COVID?" I could tell by the look on their face and the cogwheels turning in their head that they felt fucking stupid.
Anyway, two weeks of them being gone go by and the day before they got home, they told us that we had to leave. And after that, they started spreading lies about us. We ate their food, we harassed them, we called them a crybaby, we abused them.
We never pushed you to the ground. We never threaten to throw you out in nothing but your underwear in the cold and snow. We didn't hold you hostage when you tried to leave the house after an argument. We didn't mock you for having panic attacks. You did.
When we told them that they put us through emotional torment they said word for word "Well, I don't think I did."
They made some last ditch attempt to take our things again and then they left.
Now, the headmate that had a meltdown has remained inside because of all this. They didn't feel safe. When Spotify was frustrating them, they got angry, then they started to cry and nearly threw our phone. They've been through a lot, we all have. And for this particular alter Spotify being frustrating was the final straw.
I'm a newly discovered protector. I never had a role, but I've always been here. I never fronted because I didn't like our roommate, and didn't want them crushing on me or trying to be my friend. They had violent outbursts full of seemingly unexpected rage. They called us a cocksucker for not eating pancakes once! "You should've just eaten them, it doesn't matter if you didn't want them or have already eaten."
I never knew something so small could cause a meltdown, until today. I managed to calm him down, and even got him to take a nap. He woke up feeling better and then went back inside. That was house ago. And here I am...typing this and worried.
Our ex roommate fucked us up. And I know that if anyone asked them, they would say we abused them. I don't care who you believe. We know what happened. We lived it. Every second of it.
All I can do now, is help my system heal.
There are other stories, like how they made an alter's integration about them, or the time they yelled at one of our littles for crying while they're on a call or even the time they manhandled us and said "This is why your grandparents don't love you!" Or the amount of times they've threatened to call the cops on us for simply standing up for ourselves.
I could go on and on. But the point is, I'm here to help. And I'm never gonna let anyone like that hurt us again. -Scourge ❤️🔥
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thin walls. (m)
pairing: softdom!jaemin x sub!reader
words: 1.8k+
summary: you try your best to keep quiet since you know jaemin’s room is right next to yours. turns out you’re not as quiet as you think.
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: dom!jaemin, bestfriend!jaemin, roommate!jaemin, oral sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie
“Isn’t it weird?”
“Is what weird?”
You’re having your weekly video call with Donghyuck and Renjun, the latter actually paying attention to your conversation while the former furiously clicks away on his keyboard.
“We’ve been quarantining for almost a year now. You haven’t gotten any dick in months and your roommate is like the hottest guy we know,” Renjun clarifies, raising an eyebrow. You both ignore the sound of Donghyuck grumbling loudly as he loses another game.
You roll your eyes. “And you’re so concerned about my sex life because?”
“Because clearly, neither me or Donghyuck have one. I’m living vicariously through you.”
That gets Donghyuck’s attention. “For your information, I am supporting many lovely women through OnlyFans. It’s only Renjun that has difficulties with sexual partners.”
Renjun scoffs. “I could have anyone on their knees for me, and we all know it.”
There’s a knock on your door and you take an earbud out when Jaemin pops his head in. He looks like a mess — his hair springing up in different places and eyes puffy. You frown at his disheveled state.
“Hey, are you still busy?”
Your fingers move at the speed of lightning, barely registering Renjun’s protest when you quickly leave the meeting. You toss your laptop and earbuds aside to give your best friend your full attention.
He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “If you’re busy, I can come back later.”
“Nope, not busy anymore. Are you okay, Jaem?”
He fully enters the room and shuts the door behind him. He smiles softly at you as he takes a seat on your bed.
“Not feeling too great. Just wanted to see you.”
You ignore the swell in your chest at his confession, worriedly stroking his cheek when you realize how red his eyes are. His hand comes up to play with your fingers, eyes moving in and out of focus.
“What’s wrong?” You finally ask.
He shrugs. “Didn’t do so well on my test today. Feeling a little hopeless.”
Your frown grows deeper. You move closer to him, wanting to soothe his pain.
“Don’t say that. It’s just one test, you’ll do better on the next one. I’ll help you! We can make flash cards and create some trivia games to help you remember.”
He chuckles, eyes still staring down at your connected hands.
“You always know what to say. How is that?”
You giggle. “I earned the title of your best friend for a reason.”
“I suppose you did.” His eyes move upwards to lock on you. “Can I stay here? Just for tonight.”
You freeze. You haven’t slept next to Jaemin in months, the two of you only doing so when you were really drunk or really sad. You don’t even remember what it’s like to fall asleep in your best friend’s arms.
“Sure.”
And you two fall into a quiet rhythm, Jaemin’s arms circling around you as he brings your back to his chest. Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on his steady breaths as you try to fall asleep.
You’re startled when you suddenly feel a pair of lips ghost over your neck, pressing a small kiss to your collarbone.
“J-Jaem?”
He hums in response, not showing any signs of stopping while he continues to pepper kisses on your shoulder.
“Jaem, w-what are you d-doing?”
“I heard you last night.”
You pause. You try to register what he’s saying, which you find is incredibly hard to do when his tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your neck. You backtrack to last night, when you were feeling so drowsy but struggled to get to sleep. You don’t remember much, except for the fact that you reached to your nightstand to grab your vibrator-
Oh. Oh fuck.
“Y-You heard that?”
He hums again, moving to suck your neck with vigor. When he finally parts from his masterpiece, he chuckles.
“How could I not? The walls aren’t exactly thin, you know. I hear everything — all your silly commentary when you rewatch your favorite dramas, your weekly conversations with Renjun and Donghyuck, the pretty little noises you make when you turn your vibrator on, and the unmistakable sound of porn you watch when you’re really aroused.”
You feel more than embarrassed, stuttering as you try to offer an explanation. Jaemin chuckles against your ear, biting softly down on the lobe. A whimper tumbles out of your mouth before you realize it.
“I couldn’t sleep last night after listening to you. You made me fail my test, baby.”
“I’m s-sorry.”
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll let me eat you out.”
You swear your heart stops. “W-What?”
“I’m hungry. You wouldn’t want me to go to bed on an empty stomach, would you?”
“U-Um, no.”
Before you know it, you’re on your back with Jaemin between your legs. His fingers thumb over the fabric of your pajama shorts and he looks up at you, his eyes glimmering with a question.
You nod. “It’s okay, Jaem.”
With your permission, he slides your shorts down your legs and throws them haphazardly across the room. His gaze darkens at the sight of your lacy panties, which you honestly wore unintentionally today. You’re glad you picked them this morning though, because Jaemin looked like he was about to go insane at the sight.
“You’re so fucking perfect.”
And then his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core and you yelp. He’s almost predatory, shoving your underwear aside and diving into your sopping pussy. You moan when his tongue furiously licks your folds, curling in on yourself while he holds you down.
“Jaemin!”
He parts from you briefly and raises an eyebrow. “I think you have another name to call me.”
You’re confused yet again. “W-What?”
He snickers. “Forgot already? I listened to all those dirty videos you were watching, baby. I know all your cute little kinks. Now, I know you have a different name to address me as.”
“J-Jaemin, I-“
He clicks his tongue. “That’s not right.”
You gather all the courage you have inside of you, ignoring the clear embarrassment on your face by the fact that Jaemin has discovered all of your secret fantasies.
“Daddy, please eat me out.”
He smiles mischievously. “Good girl.”
You have no time to dwell on your self-consciousness before he’s sinking a finger inside of you, tongue lapping at your clit. You feel like a dog in heat, warmth spreading throughout your body as you struggle to comprehend the fact that your best friend is currently eating you out like his life depends on it.
“D-Daddy, daddy!” You scream when he slips another finger inside, curling them upwards while he sucks on your clit furiously. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-“
You cry out when your orgasm sweeps over you in waves, thrashing and whimpering under Jaemin’s hold. He uses his other hand to hold your hips down when the oversensitivity crashes into you, desperately trying to push away from him.
“D-Daddy, no, I-I’m sensitive-“
Jaemin growls and holds you tighter, fingers still drilling into your pussy and mouth wrapped around your sensitive bud. You don’t have time to warn him when your second orgasm comes just as quickly as the first, convulsing around him. You try to gain a sense of strength to push him away before he can launch you into a third, and Jaemin gets the message as he parts from you.
His chin glimmers with evidence of your arousal, fingers slipping into his mouth while he tastes the remnants of your two orgasms.
He pounces on you, lips crashing into yours and you moan. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and the fact shoots another spike of arousal to your core.
“What else did they do in that video, baby?” He whispers breathily. “Tell me.”
Your brain is a little fuzzy as you try to remember.
“H-He fucked the girl until she was crying and she took it. Anything to please her d-daddy.”
He smirks. “Is that what I should do to you? Fuck you until you’re crying? Will you do anything to please me?”
You know you trusted Jaemin with your life, so you nod.
“Anything for you, daddy.”
He grins. He quickly pulls down his sweatpants and his cock springs up, already half hard. You gulp at his size, and you’re suddenly reminded of why Renjun calls Jaemin the hottest guy you know. Jaemin’s girth wasn’t exactly a secret in your friend group, many rumors spreading around after Donghyuck discovered how well endowed your roommate actually was.
His fingers grip his base, slowly pumping himself while keeping his eyes locked on you.
“Like what you see, baby? Do you think your pussy is ready to take daddy’s fat cock?”
“Y-Yes, d-daddy. I c-can take your c-cock.”
He chuckles at your response, brushing strands of hair away from your face to fully look at you. His look is almost endearing, and you would swoon any other day if he wasn’t about to fuck you.
He lines himself up to your entrance, pausing for a second.
“Do I need to get a condom?”
You shake your head. “I’m on birth control. We’re fine.”
He doesn’t hesitate any longer, pushing into you slowly. You whine at the stretch. You haven’t been taken like this in months, and your vibrator is no match for his huge cock. He coaxes you through the pain, whispering softly in your ear and kissing your neck again to help ease you up.
Once he bottoms out, he waits patiently for your go ahead before moving. You can tell it’s killing him on the inside, brows pushed together as he tries his best not to pound you deep into the mattress.
“P-Please, daddy.”
Jaemin builds a steady pace inside of you, groaning and grunting into your ear as he sinks deeper and deeper. Your mind draws a blank when you struggle to form any coherent words, babbling while he impales you with his cock.
“You’re such a good girl for me. Always so good. Been waiting for this forever, baby. Dreamed so long of having you underneath me like this.”
“Daddy,” you gasp at his unexpected confession, hissing lowly when his fingers circle around your clit. Tears spring up in your eyes from the pleasure.
“Especially all those mornings when you were wearing practically nothing in front of me, you don’t even know how many times I wanted to take you on the kitchen counter.”
You cry when his cock hits you harder and faster.
“But you’re so good for me now, aren’t you, baby? So pretty and perfect for her daddy.”
“Y-Yes, daddy,” you whimper. “I’m all yours. All good for daddy.”
Jaemin groans loudly. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.”
Your orgasm is blinding, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride out your high. He follows shortly after you, grunting when he shoots his cum deep inside your waiting womb.
You both lay in silence before you suddenly burst out in laughter. Jaemin eyes you.
“What?”
“We just fucked. I just fucked my best friend and called him daddy. This is so surreal.”
He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.
“Better get used to it. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck in quarantine together.”
You smile. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
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At the Back of Your Neck
(Got inspiration for a Your Boyfriend drabble.......)
Sometimes... you feel like there’s something... someone following you.
Like a shadow.
There were times that you felt like somebody was trailing behind you whenever you had to close up the diner on your own. Turned off all the lights, made sure none of the kitchen appliances were left on, lock the doors, put the chains around them. And as the chains jingled and jostled while you locked that too, you could swear something moved from around the corner of the building. That made you hasten, practically dropping the padlock and yanking the key out, stuffing it into your pocket while you rushed away, keeping away from the alleys. The darkness between the streetlights made you hurry your steps, you feel like you could hear someone else matching you- but every time you turned around, it seemed like no one was there. But the entire way from work to home, you were sure you’d heard the footsteps. When you walked into the apartment hallways, you could hear clearly the difference between one set of footsteps and two simultaneous ones.
It was even more alarming when you saw your window open when you entered your bedroom, quickly shutting and locking it, paranoia building in you. You slept under the covers that night- even when you started to feel like it was too hot, you felt like any more than just your face poking out of the blanket, and you’d be exposed.
That was during the nights... you’d probably chalk it up to nights generally being slightly creepy, especially all alone, and call it just you being paranoid.
But the feeling persisted during the day as well.
When you were going to and from work, when you’re just walking through town, you could really feel a set of eyes staring into your back.
Of course during the day, there’s more people out and about, and you’d think it might be because you feel like someone was looking at you, but this felt more than the usual ‘are they looking at me?’ feeling. You felt the same unease as you did when you had to be out during late hours. Whenever you looked at the people around you, none of them would give you the same feeling, either they were talking with their friends or just plain not noticing you... even when someone was looking at you, it didn’t feel like they were the same stare you kept feeling at the back of your neck. Just a passing glance before they look back to where they were going.
Are you just... anxious? People don’t... feel stares... You sure wouldn’t think yourself of having ‘above average’ senses, even if the sense did exist. Maybe it’s because it’s the anxiety from the nights being carried into the day?
Sure, you’ve gotten scared before. Watching a horror movie always made you feel like there would be something around the corner, made you turn on the lights (one particularly bad scare had made you turn on ALL the lights in the apartment- your roommate certainly wasn’t too thrilled about that when she had to go out that night to get some water). But those were temporary, at most lasting a couple of days before it settled down.
This felt constant, every where you went, in the day or the night. You felt eyes following you, watching your every move. How- how are you supposed to explain that? You’re pretty sure you’d be given weird looks if you tried to explain this to someone else... why would you be so scared when you’re not even sure if someone’s following you? How can you be sure that’s happening when you didn’t even actually see anyone, all these times you’ve felt the stare? Even you’re not sure if it’s real or just paranoia.
It’s probably just the latter. Right? If it wasn’t...
...
You weren’t sure what you’d do if it was the former.
For now you just laugh it off, it’s just silly isn’t it? You’re just overly paranoid, no one’s actually following you. Just your imagination playing tricks, your mind coming up with these scenarios- that’s what’s scaring you.
It’s not real.
You’re fine. No one’s following you.
That’s what you tell yourself as you climb into bed in comfy pajamas, clicking the lamp off and repositioning yourself under the covers. You close your eyes.
You don’t have to worry about it. Your fears aren’t real.
...
.....
........
Your boyfriend slowly pushes the closet door open, once he’s sure you’re sleeping. He’s been here so many times, he can tell by your breathing when you’ve already fallen into slumber. You sound so soft when you just fell asleep... it was adorable. He could hear it every night.
He loves a lot of the sounds you make.
He closed the closet door and walked towards you, his footsteps dulled by the carpet, almost silent.
Tmp. Tmp. Tmp.
He casted a glance towards your window, making sure it was unlocked.
He turned to you, crouching down, knees on the floor. It was a good night- you were facing towards the window, he could see your face.
“Ah... darling...” he cooed quietly, his whisper but a gust of wind gently rustling the leaves. You didn’t stir- he’s learned what volume would wake you up, and kept his voice low. Low enough that you don’t startle, but loud enough that he’s sure your ears could hear it, his words falling into your subconscious.
“You’re so cute when you sleep. So soft.” he brushes his knuckles over your cheek, relishing in feeling your skin.
“So peaceful even when I touch you. You’ve been so scared lately, my love... your eyes keep darting here and there whenever you’re out... looking for someone.”
When he smiled, his sharp teeth glinted slightly from the faint moonlight outside.
Was it him you’re looking for? The very thought makes his heart thump against his chest from the inside, a sigh escaping through slightly parted lips. Thinking about you actually looking for him... it didn’t matter why. It made him smile up to his eyes when you thought of him.
He wants you to think of him. To only look at him.
No one else.
You belonged to him.
He kisses your cheek, gently; sucking in a breath when you make a small happy hum, mumbling something he can’t quite hear.
He feels he’s going to burst from how much love he has for you.
“You don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetness. I’m always watching you. Nothing will ever happen to you while I’m around.”
He sighs.
“You’re safe with me, (Y/n).”
#your boyfriend#i got bit by inspiration#i looked at one sentence#no. two words#and i immediately was like#'ok time to write yb'#dsjkhdsfjlfd#i.. dont have a writing tag...#id tag sinister thoughts but i feel like thats different fandom#so...............???#aka loves yb#dhjksdl#me: ok im gonna write that vampire yb drabble i wanted to write-#sentence: *exists*#brain: change of plans
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Fallen Angels (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
WARNINGS: Cop!Bucky, mentions of kidnapping, NON-CON, trusting reader
IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI
This takes place in the same universe as Protect & Serve. You don’t need to read Protect & Serve to follow along as this takes place before Protect & Serve
➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}
summary: Bucky thinks you’re the sweetest thing to grace this earth, and he’ll do the unspeakable to get what he wants
~
You heaved another sigh as you made your way up the steps to the police station. It was warm out, a soft breeze ruffling the bottom of your dress. The sun beat down on your face, making you squint, the heat only adding to your annoyance. You didn’t even know why you got annoyed anymore. It wasn’t as if this was exactly new for you.
“Y/N!”
You threw the woman behind the counter a small strained smile, shoulders sagging as you approached her.
“Hi, Jane,” you sadly said. “I’m here for my sister.”
There was a spark of recognition in her eyes, nodding while returning your strained smile.
“Of course.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, turning away as she disappeared into the back. You swallowed, briefly reaching up to rub your forehead and resisted the urge to a sigh again. You couldn’t believe that you had to leave work yet again to come and deal with your sister’s neverending drama.
You turned as soon as you heard a door open, watching a familiar face bring another familiar face into the room, his large frame making her look small. Officer Barnes greeted you with his usual smile while you returned it with a sheepish one. How many times had you watched him carry her through that door? How many times had you felt sheer embarrassment at her behavior?
“Where was she?” you quietly asked.
“Stumbling through the park,” he said with a shrug.
“Thank you,” you breathed, genuinely meaning it. “I can never thank you enough.”
How many times had you thanked him?
“Hey,” your sister slurred, eyes bleary as she struggled in his firm hold, legs trembling. “Don’t talk about me...like I’m not here.”
“Sorry,” you murmured, and she rolled her eyes, head falling back.
You reached for her, but Officer Barnes shook his head.
“Let me help her to your car. It’s the least I can do,” he said.
You started to argue, but decided against it and swallowed your words. You led him outside, the mumblings of your drunk sister reaching your ears. He was gentle as he placed her into the passenger seat, and you frowned at her as she laid her head on the dashboard.
“Really, thank you,” you said, looking to him as soon as he shut the door.
He folded his arms over his chest, leaning against your car as he gazed at you with a look you couldn’t place. He did that a lot.
“I can’t keep letting her off the hook forever, you know,” he told you, making your heart drop.
You knew that. You had known it for a while, probably since the second time. You didn’t know why Officer Barnes, and the station by extension, always let your sister off easy every time she was found drunk somewhere, but you were grateful nonetheless. You couldn’t keep taking advantage of his generosity though.
“How is Officer Wilson?” you asked, changing the subject.
The blue-eyed man smirked at the mention of his roommate and colleague.
“Still as much of a pain in my ass as ever,” he answered, making you chuckle.
“You know, as much as you insult him, I think you’d really miss him if something ever happened to him,” you said with a grin.
Officer Barnes joined you, eventually nodding with a smile of his own.
“You’re probably right. He’s still a pain though,” he agreed, walking with you to your side of the car.
You paused when you placed your hand on the door, swallowing with your eyes to the ground before looking to him again. You really couldn’t appreciate him enough, but like he said, you knew he couldn’t continue to let your sister off of the hook.
“I really hope this will be the last time,” you whispered.
Officer Barnes frowned, dark brows lowering as he heaved a sigh, sounding as tired as you felt.
“Did you ever think…”
He paused, shifting on his feet before continuing.
“Maybe a few days in jail will do her some good. I mean, what kind of lesson can she learn if you keep bailing her out?”
You couldn’t say that you hadn’t considered it, but you sadly shook your head.
“I can’t do that to her. She’s family,” you quietly replied.
He studied you for a bit before nodding, running his eyes over you with a soft hum.
“No, of course not. You’re too sweet for that,” he said.
You blinked, unsure of how to respond to that, so you simply thanked him again and said your goodbyes. He didn’t move as you got in and drove off, his stare piercing your rearview mirror until he was nothing but a speck in the distance.
When you finally arrived home, your sister was barely able to stand at all. You got her as far as the living room before your arms gave out, depositing her onto the couch. After placing a small trash can beside her, you went into the kitchen to make some coffee and put together a little hangover concoction that you’d been using for years.
As she slept off the alcohol, you couldn’t help but to think about Officer Barnes’ words. Not just him admitting that this couldn’t go on forever, something you already knew, but his proposal to let your sister spend a few nights in jail. You had thought about it. That wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t think it’d do any good. It wasn’t that simple. Your sister needed professional help.
You wondered if you could get Officer Barnes or even Officer Wilson to help you out with that. You didn’t think that your sister would react too kindly to an intervention. You suddenly shook your head, telling yourself that you needed to stop relying on them so much. Especially Officer Barnes.
You’d known them both for years, ever since they moved to the city during your 3rd year of college. They’d been mere officers in training then. You remembered even having a slight crush on Officer Wilson, but that had died the minute they found your sister the first time, wandering around the city drunk and belligerent. You had been so embarrassed, telling yourself that no one in their right mind would get mixed up with a family like yours, no matter how small it was.
Officer Barnes was always the one to find her. He never judged her nor did he ever hint that he was even thinking any kind of negative thoughts. He’d always been much nicer than either of you deserved, and you mentally reminded yourself to bake him some cookies. You suspected that his love for your food was the main reason he let your sister off the hook time and time again.
It was hours later, when you were taking the fresh cookies out of the oven, when you heard your sister stir. You turned just as she stumbled into the kitchen, struggling to open her eyes. You grabbed her a cup.
“I made coffee. It’s not as fresh as I would like it to be but…”
You trailed off, handing it to her. Her eyes were wide open now, and she gratefully took it, gulping it down.
“Thank you,” she breathed as soon as she was done.
The silence was awkward, and the smell of fresh cookies wafted through the air. It was an odd picture.
“So,” you started, playing with your fingers. “What was it this time?”
Your sister heaved a sigh, setting her mug down as she leaned against the counter.
“I got fired today.”
Your face fell, shoulders dropping as sympathy tore through you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, meaning it.
“Don’t be. It beats sleeping with my decrepit former boss,” she scoffed.
Your eyes widened as you registered the implication behind her words, and your heart clenched. You stepped towards her, reaching out.
“Are you serious? T, we should tell someone. File a lawsuit or something-.”
Her laugh cut you off, and you frowned at her.
“Have you met the guy? He has more money than either of us could ever dream of. It’d be a waste of time,” she sneered.
You shook your head.
“You don’t know that. You’re probably not the only woman he’s done this to. I’m sure with the right lawyer-.”
“This is the real world, Y/N? Where those in power take advantage of the rest of us as they see fit,” she told you, making your frown deepen.
Your bit your lip, not exactly agreeing with her but opting to swallow your words. You watched as she neared the pan of cooling cookies and ran her eyes over them with a light scoff.
“Who is this for? Officer Barnes?” she mockingly wondered, a look of disgust on her face.
“Yes, actually,” you said, ignoring her tone and reaching to get a plate. “Do you want one?”
“You should really stay away from him, you know.”
“Well, that’s kind of hard to do when you keep getting arrested for public intoxication,” you threw back.
You immediately cringed, turning to face her, surprised to find not an offended look on her face, but merely a shocked one. She crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head at you.
“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just… He’s a nice man, T. A good man. Much more than we deserve. Anyone else would have put you before a judge a long time ago.”
She chuckled, reaching past you to grab a cookie.
“Gee, I wonder why that is.”
Her tone confused you, and she shook her head at you.
“The guy’s a creep. No amount of friendly smiles can hide that,” she tossed over her shoulder as she left the kitchen.
You frowned at her words before shaking your head and sliding the cookies onto a plate.
A week later, you were thankful that your sister seemed to be doing better. Normally she needed a month to really get herself together to at least try and get back on her feet again, but her uncharacteristic behavior both shocked you and made you proud. However, when your doorbell rang at almost 1 in the morning, you realized that you had spoken too soon.
“Oh my God,” you breathed.
You had swung the door open and come face to face with none other than Officer Barnes and your sister, the latter almost keeled over. She would have been face first into the ground if it wasn’t for the man holding her up.
“Her room is this way,” you told him as soon as you let him in.
She mumbled a few times as he followed your lead, quieting altogether when he placed her on her bed. He made sure that she was on her side, and you heaved a tired sigh as he followed you down the hall.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-.”
“Hey,” he said, grabbing your shoulder and stopping you.
You turned to face him, shaking your head.
“I’m sorry,” you repeated, much quieter this time.
Officer Barnes just stared at you, brows drawn together as he rubbed your shoulder, attempting to calm you down.
“It’s okay-.”
“No, it’s not. I really...I really thought this time would be different. I did.”
“I know you did-.”
“...and there are actual criminals out there who need to be dealt with but instead you’re here dealing with me and my sister again.”
You placed your hands over your face as your voice cracked, and your shoulders trembled as you held in all of the emotions threatening to spill.
“God, all of the cookies in the world can’t make up for what we put you through,” you sighed.
He pulled your hands away from your face, and you looked away from him.
“Hey…”
You wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he let go of one of your hands to place it under your chin. He made you look at him, and his blue eyes searched your face as he smiled at you.
“This is my job. I’m not going out of my way to do anything here, okay? It’s okay.”
You reluctantly nodded before your eyes found the floor again.
“She needs help,” you said, finally admitting it outloud. “Professional help. The 12 steps kind.”
There was a brief silence before the dark-haired man spoke.
“I can help with that, get her into some meetings,” he offered.
“Would you? I...I didn’t want to ask because you do so much for us already, but…”
You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him. He rested his hands on his hips, tilting his head at you with a slight frown.
“Now, Y/N… How long have I known you and your sister? I’m always happy to help you two out in any way I can. You know that,” he told you, lips quirking up just a tad.
“More than we deserve,” you murmured
He looked as if he was going to say something else, but you continued before he could.
“Do you want something to drink before you go? I usually make her some coffee,” you offered.
His smile widened as he looked at you, eyes twinkling with something you couldn’t name.
“I’d love to.”
His steps were light as he followed you into the kitchen, and you wondered if his stealth was just part of the job or if he was always that way. He didn’t say much as you moved throughout the kitchen, opting instead to watch you as you turned on the coffee pot.
“I think I have some leftovers from last night,” you told him.
“I’d love some.”
As you made to fix him some food to take with him, you found yourself humming a bit, a habit. So immersed in your tasks, you’d almost forgotten that he was there until he spoke again.
“You’re going to make some man a very happy husband one day.”
You threw him a smile over your shoulder.
“You sound like my dad,” you complained, thinking of the man who you hadn’t seen in years.
“A harmless compliment, I promise. You’re just so sweet...and you can cook better than any chef in the city,” he elaborated.
“Well, we’ll see what the future holds,” was all you said as you handed him a container of food.
You moved to get his coffee for him when he spoke again.
“Any man would be crazy not to snatch you up and beg you to have his children,” he said with a chuckle.
You joined him, shrugging as you handed him a to-go cup full of steaming coffee.
“That would be nice, but I can’t have kids,” you said.
Officer Barnes’ smile fell, eyes widening just a bit as he blinked. If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve dropped his coffee.
“What?” he murmured.
You shrugged again, throwing him a small smile.
“I can’t have kids.”
He looked like he didn’t know what to say, and he frowned, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you told him, placing your hand on his arm. “I’m not bothered by it anymore. I used to be, but… I figured that some people just aren’t meant to have children, and that’s ok.”
You turned away from him, moving to clean up your mess. You could still feel his eyes on you.
“It’s why I work at a nursery. I love it, and sometimes I think to myself that if I had children of my own, I wouldn’t have time for the dozens I see every day.”
You leaned your back against the counter, facing him as you crossed your arms over your chest.
“I like to believe that everything happens for a reason.”
Officer Barnes smirked at you, a light chuckle escaping him, face pinched as if he was thinking hard about what you said, dark hair curling around his ear.
“That’s a nice way of looking at things.”
You shrugged, leading him to the door.
“My sister doesn’t exactly share my sentiments, so it’s nice to hear that you do,” you confessed, opening the door for him. “Thank you again, Officer Barnes.”
He playfully narrowed his eyes at you.
“How many times must I tell you?”
“Sorry, sorry,” you said with a groan. “Bucky. It’s a force of habit.”
“Well, I’m kindly asking you to kick it,” he lightly replied as he stepped outside.
“Drive safe.”
He paused, blinking at you before nodding.
“I will, and I’ll talk to someone about getting your sister into some meetings.”
You waved him off, a slight frown overtaking as you heard your sister retching from down the hall. With a sigh, you closed the door and turned to go tend to her like you always did.
The weeks that followed were better, the best you’d had in a long time. True to his word, Bucky got information on some meetings, and surprisingly, your sister agreed that she needed more help than you alone could provide. You drove her to, and picked her up, from every one. You’d always felt like the older sister despite the opposite being true, but it was glaring now more than ever.
Her behavior was improving, and you constantly prayed that it would last. You knew that recovery wasn’t always a smooth journey, plenty of people relapsing, but that didn’t seem to be the case for your sister. She had gotten another job, was keeping up with her meetings, and hadn’t even looked at a bottle of alcohol in weeks. She was just her normal cynical self...until she wasn’t.
You tapped your finger on the steering wheel, watching as the last person left the building. You waited a few moments, hoping that she would be the last person, but she never came out. Hurriedly stepping out of your car, you made your way to someone who hadn’t driven off yet. You could tell that you had startled them by knocking on their window, and you apologized the minute they cracked it. You asked them if your sister was still inside, and your heart sank at their answer.
“She never showed up.”
Your lips parted, brows furrowing as you registered their words. Unsure of how to respond, you simply took a step back, allowing them to drive off. It was late in the evening, and the parking lot was now empty, and you felt helpless as you looked around, as if waiting for your sister to appear.
She had never showed up?
You had dropped her off yourself. You had seen her walk into the building with your own eyes. You wondered if something had happened, something to send her over the edge again, and with a heavy heart, you got back into your car and headed home. You waited up most of the night, expecting a call from the police station or even a knock on your door, but your phone never rang and your door was undisturbed. You hadn’t meant to, but before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.
Your notifications were just as empty when you woke up the next morning, and your stomach churned as you sat there alone. You had the most awful feeling in your gut, and despite the fact that this should seem like a normal act for your sister, you couldn’t help but feeling like it wasn’t.
Later that day, you drove to the police station. For someone who swore not to rely on Bucky as much anymore, you were doing a poor job of it. He was happy to see you, and that made you feel even worse. Bucky was always happy to help you, and you constantly felt like you were taking advantage of it.
Your worry must have been written on your face though because his smile soon fell. He walked you outside of the station, and you quietly followed.
“It’s my sister,” you immediately said. “She’s missing.”
He eyed you for a bit, eyes narrowing just a tad as he thought. He folded his arms over his chest.
“Are you sure?”
You knew what he wasn’t saying. Your sister wasn’t exactly the most reliable, and absences weren’t unusual for her. He was right to be skeptical.
“They said she never showed up at her meeting. I dropped her off myself, and even if she wasn’t really going, she’d at least pretend like she was. She wouldn’t want me to worry and...and that’s all I seem to be doing,” you murmured.
Bucky placed his hands on your shoulders, massaging them as he attempted to console you.
“Alright. Have you called her?”
“She doesn’t have a cell phone,” you told him. “She can never keep a job long enough to.”
He nodded at that.
“I know that for adults, they need to be missing for at least 48 hours to be treated as a missing persons case. I know that, but…”
You trailed off, and Bucky understood, nodding.
“Hey?”
Your eyes met his, and he sent you a small smile.
“I’ll do what I can. I’m going to find her, alright?”
You gave a shaky nod. He told you to go home and let him handle everything. And thats what you did. The house felt too quiet, and uncomfortable, you started cleaning and cooking. In the midst of all of that, you called your father to tell him what was going on, but it was in vain. As usual, he didn’t answer his phone, and you found yourself wondering if your family was cursed. Your father was too indifferent, your sister too cynical, and you were too nice.
Despite the fact that you felt like you shouldn’t, you went to work. Was it to distract yourself? Oh definitely, but what else were you supposed to do? You didn’t worry until the 4th day had passed and you’d heard nothing from Bucky. He said that he would handle everything, and you trusted him, but you were tempted to go back to the station. However, a knock came on your door one night before you could.
You knew it was him, and you didn’t hesitate to open the door.
“Well?” you anxiously asked, letting him inside.
Bucky’s face was solemn, and you feared the worst, but he simply shook his head.
“Nothing,” he sadly told you.
Your frown deepened, and you frantically blinked away tears.
“Hey,” he quietly said. ‘Hey, none of that, doll.”
You shook your head, stepping back.
“I just feel like this is my fault. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe I pushed her too soon. Maybe-.”
“...and maybe it was all her and had nothing to do with you,” he said, lips pressed together as he looked at you.
You slowly nodded at what he said, not quite believing it.
“Maybe,” you murmured, turning away. “I feel like I should be out there, doing something.”
You heard Bucky approach you, and he tsk’d.
“No, absolutely not. This city is dangerous, and I can’t look for her properly if I’m worrying about you, now can I?” he said, hands resting on your shoulders.
You turned your head to look at him, taking in his soft expression, his baby blues resting on you. You reluctantly shook your head.
“No, I can’t. So the best thing for you to do is sit tight while I try to find your sister.”
“It’s hard. The house...it’s so quiet now. It’s so obvious that she isn’t here, and I hate it,” you whispered. “I’ve never lived alone.”
He hummed, glancing around.
“I don’t have to leave right away. My shift is over, and I could stick around for as long as you want,” he offered, making your heart soar.
“You would do that? I don’t want you to feel obligated to keep me company.”
He grinned at you.
“Never. You just kick me out whenever you get tired of me,” he told you.
You didn’t kick him out. Bucky slept on your couch that night and the night after that and the night after that. His presence was welcoming, comforting, and you found yourself growing used to it. Having known Bucky for years, it was easy to get into a familiar groove with him. He started occupying your couch more and more, and feeling so bad about inconveniencing him all because you couldn’t handle being alone, you usually cooked him breakfast before he had to go to work.
When he wasn’t at work looking for your sister, he was at home with you. Sometimes he cooked with you, or sometimes he fixed something that had been broken for months. He made missing your sister a little easier. You had faith that he would find her, that he’d bring her through that door, drunk and on the verge of sleep like before.
Still, sometimes, you couldn’t help the dark thoughts that assaulted your mind. What if she never came through that door? What if he never found her? Or worse… What if he did? What if he found her in a ditch somewhere, body maimed and ruined from being dead for so long? Despite how much you tried to remain positive, despite how much you wanted to believe otherwise, what if she was gone?
This was what woke you up out of your sleep one night, on the verge of a panic attack. Your breathing was shallow, eyes unfocused as you fought to calm yourself. You were startled, a shriek leaving you as you felt something brush your arm. Light flooded your room, and your eyes immediately met Bucky’s as he stood beside your bed.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, doll,” he whispered, kneeling beside you. “ I could hear you all the way in the living room.”
“Sorry,” you weakly said, shaking your head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, sitting beside you, facing you as he pulled you into his arms.
You hadn’t realized that you were shaking, and Bucky tightened his arms around you.
“What if she’s never coming back? What if she’s dead?” you cried.
“Don’t say that,” he murmured, rocking you. “Don’t think the worst.”
“But-.”
He shushed you, cutting you off, and you couldn’t fight the tears as they spilled over. His hand brushed over your back, and you closed your eyes as he held you, not taking note of what was happening until his lips met yours. Your eyes flew open as confusion filled you.
You struggled to pull away, but Bucky’s hold was firm. His mouth moved over yours, and your eyes were wide as he kissed you. He only pulled away when you struggled to breathe, and you pressed your hands to his chest immediately.
“Bucky what-?”
“It’s alright. Let me make you feel better. Help you forget,” he murmured, leaning in again, but you turned away.
“No!”
You got out of his grip, scooting back against the headboard, looking at him as if he was a stranger. Bucky was frowning at you like you were in the wrong, and your mind was muddled with so many conflicting thoughts.
“What are you doing?” you asked him.
He scoffed at you, narrowing his eyes at you like you had offended him.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? You smile and bat those eyelashes at me-.”
“I-.”
“You invite me into your home. You allow me to stay for as long as I want. You cook me breakfast, hell, we cook together like an old married couple. Are you telling me you intended to just play house forever?”
You were floored, and you flinched as you remembered your sister’s constant words, telling you that you were too nice, too trusting. You stared at Bucky, and you felt like an idiot. More tears sprung forth, and you dug your nails into the palm of your hands.
“Bucky I…”
You looked down, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.
“I’m sorry if I made you think that...that there was more to this, but that was never my intention. I’m really sorry.”
You heard him heave a long sigh, shrinking in on yourself as he moved closer to you.
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.”
You looked up at him, and he reached out to touch your chin. The blue of his eyes was a tad darker, colder than you’d ever seen them.
“I keep forgetting how sweet you are. Too sweet. It’s my fault really, but let me explain how things will work from now on, just so there’s no confusion…”
Your brows drew together, dread swirling in your chest.
“You treat me nice, you be as sweet to me as you always are, and I’ll do everything in my power to find your sister. You don’t...and it’s classified as a simple runaway case.”
You sharply inhaled, mouth dropping open as you registered his words.
“What-?”
“Is that understood?”
He didn’t give you time to respond, pressing his lips to yours again. Your mind was screaming at you to do something, to fight him, get out and go get help. But what if he was telling the truth? Would he really give up on finding your sister if you didn’t sleep with him? Besides, even if you could get away, who could you go to for help? The police was currently pushing you onto your back, lips tasting every inch of you.
Still, you couldn’t help but to fight against him, and Bucky huffed. He paid your trembling hands no mind as he pushed your t-shirt up, fingers trailing over your skin as he did so. You felt like you were having an out of body experience. You almost felt like you were looking down on yourself as he undressed, and you barely fought him as he did the same to you. Your breathing was shallow, and you were certain that you were going to pass out.
“Bucky,” you breathed, pressing your hands against his shoulders.
He simply lowered himself, attaching his mouth to you, making you forget your train of thought for a second. He was like a man starved, tasting you until he was more than satisfied. You hadn’t had sex many times, the few times you did it was great, but this surpassed all of those times, something you never thought possible.
Your legs trembled around him, toes curling, and you reached down to press your hands against his head, trying and failing to push him away. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding them in place while he had his fill of you. Your chest arched upwards, and one of your hands pressed against the headboard, attempting to ground yourself, but Bucky seemed determined to make your head spin.
“Bucky, stop,” you begged, voice cracking. “Please…”
Your next words were lost, the only thing climbing out of your throat being a moan. You tried your best to swallow it down as you came, but Bucky’s tongue and mouth didn’t rest, lapping up your juices as you clenched around the pink muscle. You were still coming down when he climbed over you, and you opened your mouth to stop him, beg him, but he pushed into you without warning.
A gasp escaped you, a groan of his own leaving Bucky as he immediately began to thrust into you. You placed your hands on his chest, lips trembling as he slid into you over and over again. He kissed you again, taking you by surprise, and you stared up at him in something akin to disbelief.
How did you get here? Bucky was your friend, and somehow, here he was on top of you, forcing pleasure onto you that you never asked for.
“You taste just as sweet as I thought you would,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth.
“Bucky,” you quietly begged.
“I always knew you’d be sweet in bed, making the cutest little noises, all soft skin and soft smiles.”
His words confused you, and it occurred to you that this behavior did not come out of nowhere.
“You don’t know how many times I wanted to take you in the back of my cruiser, right there in the station, but you deserved better. You deserved to be kissed like a princess in between your sheets-.”
“Stop,” you begged.
You wanted him to stop talking. You didn’t want to face how unbelievably stupid and trusting you had been. It hurt too much. He pressed his hips against yours again, his thick cock dragging along your slick walls.
“Your sister wasn’t good for you, doll.”
Your eyes widened as they met his, his brows furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat on his forehead as his hair hung over his face.
“She was nothing but trouble, always bringing nothing but her problems into your life. You were far too nice to do anything about it...so I did,” he told you, not a hint of humor in his blue eyes.
A horrified gasp escaped you, and you continued your struggle. You felt like you’d been punched in the chest, and your vision was completely blurry from your tears now. You were full on sobbing, but Bucky paid it no mind as he intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hands down above your head. Every thrust was a brush against that little bundle of nerves, and you felt yourself clenching around him.
“Oh, that’s it,” he purred. “Come around my cock.”
“No, no, no,” you cried, bucking against him, but only making it worse for you.
Your second climax crashed over you like a wave, and like you were drowning, you struggled to breathe. Bucky’s lips felt like they were everywhere, and soon after, you felt him twitch inside of you, coating your walls as he came too. You couldn’t breathe, and you felt the walls of your room closing in.
“I’m the only one who knows where your sister is,” he murmured after catching his breath. “I’m the only one who knows if she’s even okay.”
Your chest was heaving, and you kept thinking to yourself that not enough air was getting in. Bucky wiped the sweat from your hairline, running his eyes over your spent frame as he caged you in even further.
“So if you want to see her again, you know what you need to do.”
The world finally caved in on you.
Even though you couldn’t have kids, it seemed like Bucky was determined to try. Or maybe he just couldn’t get enough of you. Despite the fact that he had a place of his own, he spent all of his free time at your house. His hands never strayed from you, and it seemed like he was kissing you any chance he got. At night, and sometimes in the morning, he enjoyed the feel of you wrapped around him, milking him as he groaned in your ear.
And what could you do but let him? Now knowing the truth, you wondered if you ever knew Bucky at all. How was it possible to hide one’s true self for years? Constantly? You remembered your sister’s last words about him, calling him a creep, and you wondered if he was that good or if you were simply that trusting?
He acted as if you were a normal couple. He cooked with you, ate with you, watched tv with you, and even bathed with you. Bucky brought you flowers and gifts and pretty dresses he thought you’d look good in. Every time, you thanked him with a smile and could do nothing but accept it as he undressed you. Every time you asked about your sister, every time you built up the courage to, he always dodged the question, and you wondered how long this would go on.
As it turns out, not long at all.
He came to the house one day, angry and frantic and his eyes were searching for you. The minute he spotted you, he pounced. He was rougher than he had ever been, pinning you to the wall as he thrust into you, hand fisting your hair while the other pressed his fingers into your thigh. You felt like he was going to break you, but Bucky paid no mind to your tears.
You had made your way to the floor when he finally came inside of you, sweaty and angry and gripping you like he’d lose you. You were trembling in his arms when he lifted his head, and you stared at him like he was going to hurt you some more. You watched as he swallowed, running his eyes over you as he reached up to brush his thumb along your lip.
“Sam and I gotta leave,” he breathed.
You blinked at him, frowning.
“It’s all so sudden, but they found some things, and we have to leave.”
You didn’t know what to say, and you stared at him in confusion.
“...but when it’s safe, I’m coming back for you,” he told you, making your heart sink.
“B-Bucky...my-.”
“You want to see her again, don’t you?”
You nodded, and he nodded with you.
“Okay. Then you’ll wait for me. You don’t tell anybody what you know, and you wait for me. Tell me.”
Scared to say anything else, and scared that you’d never see your sister again, you told him what he wanted to hear.
“I’ll wait for you,” you whispered through trembling lips..
He kissed you, and that was the last time he kissed you for a long time. You didn’t know how many years had passed. 4? 5? 6? You couldn’t keep track and they all blended together. With Bucky gone, you felt more alone than you ever had before. Had your body grown used to his? Grown to crave his even? The man was your rapist. Was that normal?
The house was too painful for you to remain in, so you moved a couple of blocks over. Every day that passed, you wondered how your sister was doing. You wondered where she was. Some days you missed her more than others, and some days you were angry. Why couldn’t she have told you outright what Bucky was like. Surely, she must have known, known better than you.
Some days you were angry at Bucky, and on more than one occasion, you had even been tempted to tell someone what you knew. You hated him for what he did to you, what he’d done to your sister, putting you both through torment. Most days though, you were just angry with yourself. You felt like you deserved some blame in all of this, for being so naive, so trusting, for having faith in everyone until they proved otherwise.
Work only distracted you for a short time, and the lonely nights came quicker than you liked. Provided that you were able to find sleep, it was normally after a crying fit. It all felt like a strange sort of limbo, and you wondered how long you were meant to endure it. You started to think that Bucky would never come back, you’d never see your sister again, and once again, you’d be an idiot for believing him. But what other choice did you have?
It was one early morning, the sun still yet to rise, when there was a knock on your door. You were riddled with sleep and practically stumbling to the door, but when you opened it, all of your fatigue was gone. Your wide eyes met familiar blue ones, and you felt like the air was sucked out of you.
His hair was shorter, but he otherwise looked the same. He was dressed darkly, as bulky as ever, and you took a step back when he took a step forward. An unfamiliar car was behind him, and you squinted, recognizing Officer Wilson in the passenger seat. Your eyes fell to Bucky again, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk.
“Hi, doll.”
~
tags: @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @kellyn1604 @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @ksjksjkv
#bucky x reader#dark!bucky x reader#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes#cop!bucky#dark fic#marvel fanfiction
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Polycule AU Part V | c!Techno/Reader/Titus(OC)
Notes: no real warnings for this one, just tommy being tommy lmao. also bedrock bros. and maybe some plot things? i am Tired lmao
Taglist: @bunnylotl @victory-is-here @ravennightingaleandavatempus
also thank you guys so much for 600 follows!! :D rlly means so much that you guys like my work this much :)
Tommy is a very... interesting roommate.
As it had turned out, Tommy had made a little home just underneath the basement had for past three days had been sneaking in while you all slept and yoinked whatever he could get his hands on, much to Techno's eternal frustration.
Tommy and Techno bickered and argued constantly. It reminded you of how a younger brother would pester and annoy his older brother.
It was oddly cute, in it's own way.
Titus and Tommy get along well enough, with the former deciding that, instead of sleeping in the hobbit hole he called a home, he could sleep in the guest room instead. Tommy and Techno both vigorously disagreed, but Titus gave them both The Look and he easily won that argument.
Tommy is very, very loud, and destructive, and he ends up building a very big (and more than a little obtrusive) tower on the property.
Techno tries and makes him pull his own weight around the house, but his efforts fall on death ears as Tommy just annoys him until he gives up.
Phil ends up building a cabin right next to Techno's, and you're happy to have him there. Phil makes the whole place look much nicer, actually! You really like it.
Other than those changes, Techno had vowed to get his revenge on L'manburg, for threatening the life of one of his lovers, imprisoning the other, attempting to wrongfully execute him, and even breaking and entering into Phil's old home.
You understand, and in fact, you're a little upset about the whole thing yourself. You thought they would just leave you be, to have your peaceful life with your lovers... But apparently you were wrong.
You think, maybe, that you've been spending too much time with Techno, listening to him rant on about anarchy and government.
So, that's what your life becomes: you and Titus help out in whatever way you can to help Techno and Phil get their revenge on L'manburg for ruining their lives, and hurting those they loved.
Tommy, on the other hand, simply wanted one thing: his discs. He wanted-- no, needed-- to get them back from Dream. No matter what it took.
Techno elects to recruit Tommy into their cause, since he was gonna be hanging around anyway.
You will never forget the reveal of the secret vault.
“You see this wall?” Techno asks, gesturing into the side of the mountain. He dusts some snow off a button and presses it, stepping back.
The door clicks, sliding down and the redstone clicks and clanks, revealing a large vault with chests upon chests of materials, wither skulls lining the walls.
You blink in shock. Beside you, you hear Titus gasp.
Tommy screams. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” He steps backwards, the boy reeling.
Techno only cackles, stepping inside the vault. He laugh liked a madman, ready to spill blood.
“Welcome home, Theseus!”
Techno refuses to have you and Titus involved in the actual battle. He wants to keep you both safe as he can, knowing that this whole operation will put a target on his back.
That didn’t stop Titus from making a ton a special armor and tool sets, though, nor did it stop you from going on huge resource gather sprees.
During one such resource gathering/hunting, you’re alerted by the sound of what sounding like music playing. You decide to and investigate.
You end up finding a little hovel. It doesn’t have much. Just a bed, a couple furnaces, a chest, some light sources, a jukebox and crafting bench.
You’re a little confused. Was someone living here?
You check the furnace. It was empty, but still warm.
You check the chest. There’s some items in there, but then at the bottom you can see a picture.
You pick up the picture and look at it and...
Was that... Titus?
You blink, looking more closely.
It was. It was Titus and... honestly, he looked absolutely miserable. Beside him, to his left, were two other people; a man and woman. His parents, probably.
Sitting to his right, was... that brute. The one who’d shown up with the butcher army. What had Techno called him again? Brutus? Something like that. And, just behind him, was another man. His father, maybe?
On the back of the photo, the words, “Never forget, 11/16″.
You tilt your head, confused. What in the world did that mean?
You think about pocketing the photo for a moment, but suddenly, someone’s grabbed you by the hair and there’s a sword being pressed to your throat.
“Well, well, what do we have here? A little thief?” A deep, hoarse voice asks from behind you. “And here I thought this trip would be boring.”
You look up, and...
Brutus is staring back at you.
He looks a little annoyed, but mostly just amused. Like you were a toy, something for him to play with.
You try to squirm out of his hold, but he's too strong.
Brutus laughs. “Say, you’re that human... the one that Blade and Varlerius were messin’ around with, right?”
You glare at him. “And what of it?”
“Jeez... you’re a feisty one, huh? That’s fun.”
After going back and forth with him for a while, Brutus eventually ties you up with some spare rope he had, and takes you with him back to the hideout he was currently living in.
You don't see him do it, but Brutus swipes the picture when you're not looking.
Once you get to the hideout, you properly meet the other two piglin's who were there with him that day: Io and Lucius.
They were all best friends who had been together for years, and were currently working as mercenaries.
They’d been hired by Quackity to help apprehend Techno for... way more diamonds than you’d ever seen before.
And now, they were going to ransom you off to your boyfriend because you decided to snoop through Brutus’ stuff.
“I’ve heard the legends. I know he’s got the cash.” Brutus says to you as he takes all your items, armor and weapons.
(You notice Brutus look at your sword, the one Titus made for you, with a certain look on his face. Was that... jealousy?)
Well, at least they feed you. Turns out, Lucius was a good cook. You ask him why he even bothered with the mercenary crap if he can cook this good. He laughs at you.
"You're sweet, but don't think I'm gonna let you go just cause you know how to compliment a guy."
You sigh. Dammit. "Can I at least get points for trying?"
"Whatever floats your boat, gorgeous."
#snail headcanons#lucius tag#io tag#brutus tag#polycule au#titus tag#hades tag#technoblade x reader#techno x reader#mcyt x reader
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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (05)
Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?
Alternatively:
"A future without you is a world without color."
Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au
Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader
Word Count: 3.5k
SERIES: CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 6
The best thing about Red was that she wasn't just your assistant; she was also your friend.
Your one and only girl confidant.
Growing up, you didn't really have a lot of friends. It was probably because you used to be so shy.
Unlike other children, you weren't forced by your parents to interact with kids your age. Why would they do that when you already had everything you needed?
You had the latest toys so you didn't have to play tag or hide and seek with your neighbors. You were also a smart girl. You didn't need to ask for your classmates' help. The only weakness your parents saw was the fact that you only excelled in the academic field. You weren't blessed with a golden voice. You couldn't dance, you couldn't ride a bike. You couldn't even do the basic household chore.
This was all because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You didn't have to try harder. You had a handmaiden to do all sort of things for you. Your parents paid the school so that you wouldn't have to attend P.E classes or any other extracurricular activities.
You were contented to be alone in your big, princess-like room.
In fact, you only met Jimin, your best friend who was two years younger than you, during college days. He was your classmate in your first ever P.E class. You were already a junior that time. You thought you could skip P.E the way you did in high school, but you were wrong. You ended up in Jimin’s class that time.
The two of you didn’t stop being friends after the semester ended. Actually, you guys became even closer. Jimin was the only person who was by your side when you were breaking down because of school. He cried with you, slept late with you, and he also set you up with a lot of his friends. Unfortunately, you weren't attracted to any of them. You weren't picky. You were just a sucker for soulmates and happy endings. His efforts didn't go to waste though. You became good friends with some of these guys. You were particularly close to Jung Hoseok, a boy your age who was in Jimin's dance class.
Hoseok was a great person, but you still craved the idea of having a girl best friend.
Luckily, you met Red.
You met her months ago—back when she was still a struggling student who was looking for a job in the company where you were working.
"And why would I hire someone like you?" Gahee, your co-worker, snarled at Red. The former didn't like the latter's answers during the interview portion. She said Red was too slow, too soft. She wasn't fit to become a lawyer like the rest of you.
"I'm sorry..." This was another issue. Red kept on apologizing. She had a very low self-esteem.
You knew right there and then that this girl wouldn't be hired. Out of the five interviewers, you were certain that you're the only one who was in favor of this intern.
Why?
It was because Red reminded you of your younger self.
As stated, you were a shy kid. But then law school changed you. To survive, you needed to act tough—you constantly needed put on a mask just so you could reach the 'standard' of what a lawyer should be like.
Most of the time, it worked. There were cases, however, wherein you became clouded by your own judgment. Some of your colleagues said you were too empathetic—always rescuing people from their misery.
You were doing it again.
"I'm going to hire her." These were your exact words just as Red was about to leave.
She stopped walking. Red turned to look at you. Confusion was apparent all over her face. Were you serious?
The other interviewers couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth, so naturally, they protested.
You simply raised your brow at them.
"I said what I said. She's going to be my new assistant." You pointed at Red who still looked so shocked.
"But we don't want to work with her!" Gahee groaned.
"So?"
Gahee's face turned pale because of your response. You arched your brow higher.
"It doesn't matter if you don't want her. She's going to work for me."
The interviewers went silent.
You see, no one could ever question your decision. You might be 'too soft' for some of them, but they still couldn't deny that you were damn good at your job. Your personality in the office was very different from what your family and friends knew. For them, you would always be that quiet little girl who couldn't speak for herself. In here, you were young, but sophisticated. A lion in a world full of kittens.
"Ms. Red Lee's my responsibility from now on. If you have a problem with her, you can talk to me."
This was the beginning of your friendship with Red. At first, she was skeptical of your intention. Why would you want to work with someone like her?
"Because I believe in you." You offered her a smile when she finally found the courage to ask you the question that had been bothering her since the first time she met you.
Red had been your assistant for months now; however, your co-workers still didn't like her. It was as though they were waiting for her to make a mistake.
She did.
"How's our case going? Did our client take the color vision test?" You inquired days before the trial of your client who wanted to sue the business person who sold her fake whitening products. This was a simple case. You didn't understand why your client wanted to go to trial; this could simply be settled without going to the court.
"There's no need for that. I've already talked to her."
"Hm?"
"Well..." Red took a seat beside you. She was blushing. "Remember when I told you I've met my soulmate?"
"Oh. Right!" You beamed at her. How lucky. "So did you break up with JK?"
Red told you she had a boyfriend named JK. You honestly didn't know much about him or their relationship, though you were informed that they had been together for almost a decade, unfortunately, they weren't soulmates.
"I did." The smile she gave you was sad. "But he didn't take it well..."
You didn't know what to say after that. Admittedly, you had urged Red to breakup with her boyfriend because you didn't appreciate that she was keeping him in the dark. It was unfair.
"But anyway," Red sounded so excited that you couldn't help but giggle. "I've talked to your client. I'm sure she can see color since her answer was right when I asked her if she can tell me the color of the shirt I'm wearing."
"Okay, then."
It was stupid of you to rely on Red's words and you knew it. This was the reason why you couldn't defend yourself when your boss humiliated you in front of everyone. As if that wasn't awful enough, your superior also excluded you from the biggest case you were working on.
Gahee was the new head of that case.
"I'm sorry!" Red was crying. You took accountability for what she had done. She was your assistant after all.
"It's okay, Red." You smiled despite the fact that you were breaking inside. Your boss made you look like a fool. You couldn't erase the image of your colleagues smirking that was circling inside your head.
You were no longer a lion.
"I-It's not okay! You lost the case!" She knew that you spent months working on the mentioned case your boss removed you from. Everyone was jealous of you. They wanted to handle that case. Now, Gahee had the chance. You lost yours.
You embraced Red. You couldn't bear to see anyone crying.
"But I'm still handling Mr. Kim Seokjin's case." You stared into her eyes. "That's the only case I want to handle. Trust me."
Red sobbed even harder. She understood what you meant. You lost the biggest case, but at least you were still Mr. Kim's lawyer. Again, his case was more important to you and Red.
"I'm going home. Is that okay? Can you handle yourself?" You couldn't work with a heavy heart. You needed to see Miri. You needed a bath. You needed a break.
Fortunately, Red let you go.
Ever since that day, your assistant became more hyperaware of your needs and wants. She was certain she owed you a lot. This was the reason why you couldn't understand why Jeongguk was crying now.
"G-Gukkie?" You swallowed hard when you saw tears streaming down his cheeks.
Again, Red knew what you needed. You were sure she gave you the correct recipe for kongnamul guk. So why was Jeongguk weeping as he ate the soup you made?
It couldn't be because it didn't taste good. You followed Red's recipe. It was perfect! Everyone loved her soup.
Your soulmate didn't answer you. He also refused to look at you. It was embarrassing enough that you could see his overflowing emotions.
Jeongguk wondered why the world was so cruel to him. He woke up a few minutes ago with a heavy head, and then the first thing he spotted was you.
You were standing near his feet; a lovely smile was plastered on your face. Jeongguk didn't understand why you were grinning at him like that.
Weren't you mad? He remembered everything that happened last night. He acted like an asshole.
Jeongguk's suspicion grew when you handed him an ibuprofen and a glass of water. Not only that, you also told him that you cooked soup to help him with his throbbing head. He was too tired and shy to refuse you, so without saying anything, he let you drag him to the dining table.
You prepared everything for Gukkie. The only thing he had to do was eat. The thing was, he couldn't even do that.
Tears filled his eyes the moment he tasted the soup. He was looking directly at you while bring the spoon closer to his mouth—this was how you acted last night. This was what pissed him off. You were scowling, making him feel like he was the worst cook ever.
How was he different from you when he was acting the same way? The only thing that changed was his expression. As said, he was crying instead of frowning.
It broke your heart.
"Say something please?" You begged. You felt your chest tightening. Did you make him cry? Were you wrong? Red's recipe was perfect, maybe it was you who fucked things up. Did you put too much salt? Too much bean sprout?
What was wrong?
Jeongguk shook his head, harshly wiping his tears away. He didn't say anything. He didn't make it seem like he hated the soup. Actually, he finished it within a few minutes.
"I'm going to my room." He abruptly stood up, hanging his head low.
"T-Thanks for the food."
The way Jeongguk acted made you realize that you couldn't really cook, not even when the perfect recipe was literally in front of you; however, this didn't stop you from making dinner that same day.
Your soulmate locked himself in his room since morning. He hadn't eaten anything other than that soup and frankly, you were getting worried. You didn't want him to get sick.
It was going to take a while to have your food delivered, so you just decided to cook instant ramen. It had always been your life savior.
"What are you doing?"
You stopped trying to open the stove when Jeongguk suddenly spoke up.
He instantly realized what you were doing, causing him to grimace.
"You can't eat instant ramen for the rest of your life, you know? It's very unhealthy." Jeongguk shook his head, disappointed.
You bit your lower lip. It was the only food you knew how to prepare by heart. You didn't want to upset him again by trying to cook something that didn't taste good.
"I'm gonna prepare our dinner." He announced and you nodded.
You were starving. It was Sunday, but you still needed to work. You stayed in the living room the whole day, talking to Mr. Kim Seokjin about his case. Miri wasn't around to keep you company. That cat of yours stayed with Jeongguk the whole day. What a traitor.
"Okay. I'll be in my room if ever you need help." You said.
"Wait!" Jeongguk held your wrist, stopping you from leaving.
"I-Is gimbap okay?" His voice was soft as he asked this. He realized he needed to talk to you about your likes and dislikes. He couldn't just prepare something and get mad if you ended up disliking it.
"Uh..."
Jeongguk could feel your hesitation. It wasn't like you hated gimbap, but you had too much of it yesterday. Red made twenty five pieces when you told her you were craving it.
"Tell you what," Jeongguk let go of your hand. "Why don't we just eat out? Do you like pizza? What about pasta?"
He kept on suggesting food you could try, but nothing was registering inside your mind. The only thing you could think of was this:
"We're going on a date?" Your eyes were sparkling.
"What?" Jeongguk asked, dumbfounded. Out of the many things he had said, this was the only thing you could think about?
"You said we're gonna eat outside! It means we're going on a date!" You were smiling shamelessly.
Jeongguk's eyes widened. He was panicking. He didn't know why his heart was beating so fast just by the thought of going out on a date with you.
"I-I..." He swallowed hard. "We could invite T-Tae and Jimin."
Jeongguk panicked more upon realizing what he just said. No. He couldn't bear to see his best friend right now. Jeongguk hadn't told anyone that he could see colors now—well, except Yoongi.
Jeongguk wasn't ready yet. He felt guilty. He knew he was the reason why you couldn't see colors. He didn't want Taehyung and Jimin to be disappointed in him. Besides, he didn't want the couple to pester him about liking you. Again, that wasn't going to happen.
Jeongguk was about to withdraw his statement, unfortunately, you were already telling him that it was a good idea.
"So how are you, Guk?"
This was the story how Jeongguk ended up eating sushi with Taehyung.
The couple accepted your invitation. The four of you were supposed to eat together, but Jimin claimed he needed to talk to you. Alone.
Taehyung didn't protest. He missed Jeongguk too. It had been a while since they last talked. This was the perfect time to finally catch up.
"Nothing new." Jeongguk shrugged nonchalantly.
"Really?" Taehyung raised a brow. He could tell when his best friend was hiding something. "So you don't consider being able to see colors as something new, huh?"
Jeongguk's head jerked up.
"You know!?"
Taehyung laughed. Of course he knew. You told Jimin and Jimin told Taehyung. The latter was simply waiting for Jeongguk to open up.
He couldn't wait forever though. Jeongguk could be stubborn sometimes.
"She also told us that you cried earlier..."
Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. Damn it. You couldn't keep anything to yourself, could you?
"I did not." Jeongguk gritted his teeth. The tears forming in his eyes were in contrast to what he was saying.
Jeongguk indeed cried earlier. Taehyung could tell because the younger boy was crying again.
"Guk..." Taehyung caressed Jeongguk's clenched fist.
"Wanna tell your hyung what happened?" The voice of Jeongguk's best friend was like a lullaby.
Jeongguk cried even harder.
Truthfully, he was surprised with himself too. Jeongguk had always been emotional, but his stubborn ass refused to let other people see him cry. This was new. The Jeongguk Taehyung knew would keep his mouth shut.
The Jeongguk today couldn't stop talking.
"I got so drunk last night, hyung. She..." Jeongguk looked at Taehyung to make sure that he understood that the she he was referring to was you.
"She cooked kongnamul guk for me."
Taehyung was silent after that. He tried to understand what Jeongguk was saying. Sadly, he couldn't.
"Are you telling me that you're crying because she prepared a soup for you?" Taehyung sounded unsure.
Jeongguk shook his head; tears were still streaming down his cheeks.
"No. I was just reminded of..." He trailed off.
"Of what?"
For a moment, Jeongguk was silent. His heart was hurting.
"Of the mean things I've said to her." Jeongguk sobbed.
It was a bad idea to look at you while he was trying to eat. Jeongguk's eyes accidentally fell into your lips. It was swollen—a reminder that you still ate the garlic shrimp even though you were allergic to it.
Jeongguk felt like an evil person.
Why were you always so kind to him? No one treated him the way you treated him. It was too good to be true.
"Oh." Taehyung broke into a huge grin and suddenly, he was chuckling.
"What's so funny?" Jeongguk was talking in a pout.
"Nothing!" The best friend's laugh had died down, but he was still smiling. "Is she tricking me, then? Can't she really see colors?"
For Taehyung, it was impossible that you were still living a monochromatic life. It was obvious that Jeongguk cared for your feelings. However, Jimin thought the opposite.
"Seriously? God. I hate that brat so much!" Jimin didn't know that he was capable of hating Jeongguk, but after listening to your story, he couldn't help the annoyance he felt for your soulmate.
You were currently inside a restaurant that was just across the sushi bar where Jeongguk and his boyfriend were at.
Jimin missed you as much as Taehyung missed his best friend. The last time you two communicated was three weeks ago. You did tell him that Jeongguk was your soulmate and that he didn't seem to like you.
Jimin brushed it off at first. He told you to give Jeongguk some time. He failed to tell you that your soulmate just went through a tough breakup though. Jimin knew it wasn't his story to tell.
"Don't. Gukkie's a good person. He just didn't know any better."
"It’s because he isn't trying!" Jimin crossed his arms. He was aware that it was unfair to get mad at Jeongguk, but your best friend could tell that you were getting hurt because of your soulmate's insensitivity.
"If I were you, I would give up on him."
You shook your head instead of agreeing to his statement.
"Jeongguk reminds me of law school."
When Jimin raised his brow, you started to elucidate what you meant.
No one, not even your parents, believed in you when you told them you were going to law school. Sure, you were smart, but you weren't strong like others. You cry immediately. You couldn't handle harsh opinions. You couldn't even handle sleepless nights and intense competition. You hated conflict. You had always been a mediator.
Even Jimin tried to stop you. He asked you so many times if you truly wanted this. It's not that he didn't trust you. Your best friend was only concerned about your well-being. He was there when you were having a difficult college semester. Undergraduate life was clearly much easier compared to graduate school. Jimin couldn't let you lose yourself just because of law school.
But you were determined to prove them wrong. Yes, law school was hard, but you were stronger. If you remained passionate about learning the law, you knew you would become a lawyer.
Guess what? You did.
This was what you were holding onto every time you felt like giving up on Jeongguk.
Pain was nothing if you could make him fall in love with you.
"Jeon Jeongguk!" You shouted when you saw Taehyung and your soulmate walking out of the sushi bar.
You and Jimin had also finished eating.
Your soulmate looked at you with furrowed brow. He didn't understand why you were shouting when the two of you were just a few meters away from each other.
"I LIKE YOU!" You shouted once again. Your voice was so loud that people couldn't help but look at you.
You were gaining attention.
Taehyung and Jimin were laughing their asses off. Jeongguk tried to run away, but his best friend held him down.
"You're fucking crazy!" Jimin shook his head, still laughing when you started to form a big heart over your head.
"I LIKE YOU SO MUCH, JEON JEONGGUK." You continued.
Jeongguk was dying of embarrassment, but you didn't care.
You were sure.
Jeon Jeongguk was going to love you.
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