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#someone is still bitter about that dart game
kingkonoha · 5 months
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no one believes that EREN YEAGER has such a gorgeous girlfriend . . . ♡
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“Why the hell are you smiling so much?” Jean said, frowning at the brown-haired man who sat on the couch, grinning at his phone as he barely contributed to the group conversation. “You’re freaking me out.”
“It’s called happiness, Jean,” Eren replied, his smile fading as he spoke, but that spark of joy was still visible within his green eyes.
“Yeah? That’s why I’m confused. You’re usually a bitter pain in the ass.”
Connie, who was sitting on the ground closer to Jean — despite there being plenty of room on the couch and sofa — chuckled softly.
“Jean’s right,” Connie said, after his little laughing fit. “You haven’t stopped smiling since you got here. Doesn’t your mouth hurt by now? Jesus Christ.”
“Leave him alone,” Armin said kindly as he leaned against the arm of the couch. “He’s just in love.”
“What?” Connie’s eyes widened. “In love with who?”
Armin looked over at Eren, wanting him to answer the question.
“Her name is Y/N. She’s my girlfriend, but I doubt Jean even knows what that means, right?” Eren smirked, and Jean suddenly grabbed a pillow, launching it at Eren’s head.
As Eren caught it and threw it back, he said, “you guys can make fun of me if you want, but she’s so damn beautiful. Fucking perfect. I’m only hanging out with you idiots right now because she’s having a girl’s night. You guys should’ve seen how amazing she looked when she was leaving. I’m really lucky.”
“Yeah, right.” Jean rolled his eyes.
“Show us a picture!” Connie said, pushing himself off of the ground and making his way over to where Eren sat, standing over him like an annoying relative waiting for him to hand over his phone so he could play games on it.
“Alright, hold on,” Eren said, still grinning as he opened his photo album.
He showed Connie a photograph of you and him at your birthday party about a month ago.
“Holy shit,” Connie’s wide eyes widened even more. He snatched Eren’s phone from him, turning up the brightness on his device before zooming in on the photo. “There’s no way — there’s no goddamn way.”
“Let me see,” Jean said, getting off of the couch. He walked over towards Connie, looking over his shoulder at Eren’s phone.
“Who the hell is that?” Jean grabbed Eren’s phone from Connie’s hand, who tried to snatch it back as he said, “I was still looking!”
“Eren, you expect us to believe that this is your girlfriend? That you pulled someone this fine?”
Jean darted his eyes between Eren and his phone. “I’m with Connie on this one. There’s no goddamn way.”
“It’s true, guys,” Armin said with an amused smirk. “She’s actually a friend of mine from college. I introduced the two of them.”
Jean and Connie shared a look with each other — a look of utter disbelief.
“Still don’t believe me?” Eren raised his eyebrows, holding his hand out as he motioned for Jean to give him his phone back. “Look at this picture, then.”
Eren took a moment to scroll through his photo album a bit more, and he found a selfie of you kissing his cheek.
And when he showed it to the others, they had no choice but to believe him.
Pushing their jealousy aside, they were all truly happy for their friend, even though they secretly wished that they could be him, even for just one night.
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kunikuma · 6 months
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coffee break ☕️
relationship | kunikuzushi x gn!reader, modern AU
synopsis | the corporate world is boring. breaktime was his only reprieve during the dreaded 9-to-5 til you decided to join him. content | fluff, coworkers to... not-yet lovers? cw | none a/n | this has a very dry tone to it... to y'know, seal the deal on the vibes of the corporate world. also, this is draft number three. originally, i was gonna write some weird coworkers enemies to lovers with software developer scara. ngl, still into it. btw, sticky notes are my love language. ask me about them.
masterlist
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Sept. 17
Office life meant painful, teeth-pulling water cooler talk; a job description never explicitly stated that as a primary responsibility, but it’s there. Everyone was wordlessly expected to talk about the weather or the upcoming sports game scheduled for that weekend.
Except for Kunikuzushi because he’d proudly admit he’s a bit of a bastard and would rather die than put himself in a situation where he had to listen to some dad’s daughter’s ballet recital, or listen to someone ramble about getting a gross dog.
The man was born and bred to avoid small talk at all costs. He’d plan his coffee breaks well; watching when people were most likely to head into the office’s kitchen for a refill or to engorge on the shitty and cheap cookies the human resources lady would drop off on Tuesdays. His beady eyes would squint as the gears in his head turned. Oh, this man mentally noted the duration and frequency of each person’s break.
The overworked young man in his dreary cubicle did the math and he did the time. Prime time silence was usually around 10:30 and 2:15 each day. Then, and only then, he’d find himself slinking away from his desk, peering around the corners to walk to the bathrooms, only to dart to the breakroom to pour himself another cup of bitter, dark coffee. Y’know, to bring his hot mug to the corner of the breakroom and stare at the world below.
Change of scenery.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
A perfect routine.
Slinking away from his desk, pouring himself a fresh cup… Blowing on the hot liquid and letting it fog his blue light lenses…
No cream, no milk, no sugar. Not a speck of artificial joy in his cup. Just the way he liked–
“How do you like your coffee, Kuni?” 
He tersely watched you drop coffee grounds into the filter of the machine, the soothing sound of them hitting the paper suddenly grated his eardrums. From the partially opened door that he was still gripping, he stared at the back of your skull. You darted around the breakroom, snatching a cracker from a platter and popping it into your mouth while you gathered some water.
What? You did not take breaks at this time.
You were pouring a little too much ground for the amount of water you had set aside. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, his fingers digging into the grooves of the wood. The grumpy developer turns around, the oak door slamming behind him.
Damn you for intruding during his solace.
Damn you for wedging yourself into his routine.
You were just his oddly pretty, annoying, and pretty cute coworker who sat a few meters away from him. During the morning meetings, you’d chime in about your daily tasks and diligently nod your head when the team lead would give you direction. You never personally spoke to him, yet he’d see you chatting away with the others on the team.
Fine by him, he intended on keeping you at arms’ length. Office friends and crushes were childish.
Admiring you from a few feet away is where he drew the line and he never intended to cross it.
You’d ruin his perfect schedule:
Arrive at work at nine in the morning.
Work.
Take his two coffee breaks.
Go home at five.
Eat.
Sleep.
Repeat til he dies.
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Oct. 3
You were fucking persistent though!  You weren’t always in the break room at the same time, but he didn’t even understand why you started showing up to begin with.
Somedays, he’d be lucky and he’d catch you squinting at your screen as you worked through his break, clicking away and typing up a storm. He could see the list of things you needed to do on a pad of paper near your desk and he’d celebrate knowing you would be too busy to intrude on his silence.
On other days, you’d be brewing up a different storm in the little kitchenette. Literally brewing up coffee from with the drip machine, or talking his ear off about absolutely useless information.
Once, you asked him about his dating life and he remained silent, dragging a blue napkin across the table in a circle. The only sound was from the coffee machine as it dripped its ambrosia into the carafe. Deciding his silence was your invitation to talk, you blabbered about your own lack of romance-
“Didn’t ask.”
He’d dryly sneer when you talked about a random date you went on months ago. You had said something about how poor of a date it was; your date showed up late, told you they couldn’t pay the bill, and left you halfway through. While he thought that was funny, his concealed amusement faded when you excitedly reminisced about a very good date you went on the other day.
When you dreamily sighed, he crumpled the napkin on the table til his knuckles cracked. The little napkin met its fate as he pelted it into the trash bin.
Kunikuzushi did not want to hear much about your love life, unless it pertained to the failures of those courting you.
Besides, it was not appropriate for the workplace! A lie.
Snickering at his shittily concealed displeasure, you wondered if you poked at a sore spot. You changed the topic to talk about the office gossip, what you planned on having for dinner that night, the weather, and how it affected your hairstyle. This seemed to have been the right choice as his shoulders visibly relaxed.
…O-of course, your manager’s boyfriend left her! She was a fool! And wow, your dinners sounded sad and pathetic because you had them alone. He certainly couldn’t say the same. He could.
Side note: he thought your complaints about your hair on Monday were unfounded. Actually, he thought your hair looked kind of… alright. It was a little cute when it a tad frizzy because you’d worry over such a tiny detail—
He shakes himself out of his head and abruptly leaves.
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Oct. 14
If he saw you had a steaming cup on the cute cat coaster on your desk, he’d awkwardly get up from his desk to… seemingly walk to the restroom. By the time he’d slide his way to the breakroom, you were there, brewing up another big communal pot for all the sad folk in the office.
These days, his gritted teeth did not suffer too much. He’d scoff at your presence but choose to remain in the break room. After all, all he needed to do was to pour himself a fresh cup of your watery coffee and head back.
He didn’t need to sit in the corner and let you use his ears like a little verbal punching bag. Perks of never needing sugar or milk; he could just leave the break room once the dark liquid was near the top of the white cup.
He could ignore your questions; if he felt an urge tickling his throat to respond to you, he’d cough or grunt in your direction. Didn’t always work.
Once, you wistfully sighed about how the office coffee never quite tasted as good as an overly expensive cup from down the street; whatever magic the barista used was out of this world. Kunikuzushi wryly broke his silence, noting that you were probably just bad at making a simple brew. 
“...sounds like a skill issue.” He mutters dryly, gingerly placing his mug down as he leans against the backrest. His finger circles the rim of the cup like the hand on a clock.
Like a fish out of water, you gawked at him. You raised your voice as you laughed and threw a jab in his direction.
Though, when you beamed at him for replying, he covered his twitching smirk with the hot mug.
Luckily for him, the hot steam from the cup aided in fogging his perched glasses on his nose, hiding the mirth in his eyes. Seeing that he broke his silence thanks to the coffee topic, you pressed on.
That day, you had learned the man was quite the home-barista, mumbling about how he owned his own combo espresso machine and milk frother back in his apartment. When you ordered him to be in charge of the coffee from now on, he only scoffed and he said you had taken over his job since you had intruded on his alone time. The communal brew’s quality tanked ever since you started intruding on his alone time.
“You have no one to blame but yourself.”
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Oct. 21
One day, as you poured water into the drip machine, you found yourself babbling over the most recent latte you had tried over the weekend.
Kunikuzushi found himself nodding absentmindedly as he stared out the glass windows again. The breakroom was decorated with oranges and blacks to celebrate the spooky season. You chimed in about how it must be his favorite time of the year because he could dress up to be a cheerier person.
He does everyone a favor and ignores you.
Down below, he watched citizens enter and exit the little cafe, hearing you happily coo over the perfect sweetness of the autumnal drink gracing your pretty lips. You mentioned something about an apple latte and he grimaces at the thought of the decadent syrup.
In many people’s hands down below, he could see the burning steam hitting the cool air of the city. The brown cardboard cup sleeves protected their hands as they took quick sips on their way to work. Through the big windows of the cafe, he could see pairs and groups of people laughing away as they sipped their drinks and enjoyed their pastries. Kunikuzushi feels a twist in his chest at the sight; how boring! People surely find joy in the most mundane things like chatting over a snack.
He laughs. He shakes his head and gets up to leave.
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Oct. 28
At 10:30 and 2:15 each day, he’d find himself cradling his hot cup and staring out the window as you blabbered about the different cafes around town. You hadn’t mentioned anything about dates and he found himself curious if you had gone on any since the last time you brought them up. Not that he’d ever ask about that.
He had finally stopped slinking around the office; rather, he’d eye the little raspberry-tinted lip gloss stain on your porcelain mug and he’d comment oh-so loudly to no one in particular that it was time for a break. If he didn’t see your head whip around like a dog who heard the word ‘walk’, he’d bump into your chair on the way to the break room. In the corner of his eye, he’d check if you were gathering your mug as he turns the corner.
These days, he’d watch the people on the street scurry like little ants, paying closer attention to the hustle and bustle of everyday life. 
Your loud-mouth blabbering about anything and everything under the sun stopped feeling like nails on a chalkboard. If he closed his eyes as he took a sip of his drink, he could almost see himself admitting it was soothing in that little room. The feeling was akin to being at home while having a podcast in the background.
More recently, the communal office fridge and cabinetry were starting to get stocked with new ingredients: milks, creams, flavored syrups, and different kinds of sugars. They were unlabeled and everyone wondered who brought them in. You tried making something tasty today but sighed when it was just a little too sweet.
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Nov. 1
“Why did you start talking to me?” He breathes, blowing the steam from his mug. The young man was at his cherished spot as he watched you make yourself a snack at the counter. Your fingers wiggled as you prepped a small plate of food to bring back to your desk. This was something he had been mulling over now and then and he needed to know.
“We’ve been on the same team together for what? Four months? What took you this long to work the nerve?”
“Took me this long? You make it sound like you have been twiddling your thumbs, waiting for me to make the first move.”
“...Annoying. You know what I meant.”
“I mean, you’re the only one left on the team I haven’t gotten to know. Plus, you’re not that bad looking. You are kinda fuckin’ scary though, I guess. A-ah, don’t tell human resources I said any of that...”
“...no promises.”
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Nov. 4
This new routine of his never grew to be boring, he’d regret to admit.
How could it?
He’d listen to you talk for maybe twenty minutes a day and you didn’t talk about ballet recitals or stupid sports games on the weekends.
More recently, you ranted about a damn puzzle you were gifted and how it was laying unfinished on your kitchen table for the last few weeks.
You were an odd one. If he was sweet, he’d describe you as an endearing breath of fresh air in a suffocating office. But he’s not sweet like that, so he’d call you weird if someone asked.
If anything, he horrifically realized he seemed to look forward to these twenty minutes.
Kunikuzushi found himself irately drumming his fingers on his desk as his eyes darted from your laughing form to the time at the corner of his monitor. In front of him, lines of code flooded his brain along with the error messages he had been reading through. His little silver ring on his finger rotated each time it brushed against the skin of its neighbor.
His eyes dart again. 
10:33
You were still laughing away with that ginger-headed fuck, Ajax. Clearly, was a convo that had your rapt attention because your body was facing the man and you were casually propping your elbow on the waist-high filing cabinet. The more extroverted man had peeked his head over his screen and called you over, not-so-quietly yelling about the latest episode of a show.
While the teensy smile on your face was nice to see, Kunikuzushi found himself squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of you smiling for that guy out of all people.
You were supposed to beam at him when he muttered a response your way.
10:37
The cranky developer was not pleased to have his routine fiddled with again. Currently, he was looking at having only thirteen of the twenty minutes he demanded each day. 
“Tsk, whatever. I’ll get my refill. If you join, you join.” He mutters under his breath, glaring at the back of your head as he shoves his chair into the desk, startling the people around him as everything rattles.
Quickly making a beeline towards the breakroom, he ignores your curious stare. The loud thumping of his shoes hitting the carpeted floors matched the weird thumping in his chest.
Why didn’t you stop him when he walked past?
Why didn’t you say something?
Did you know what time it was?
He shoves the door open and makes a beeline for the corner and flops into the chair, forgoing the refill. The loud screeching of the metal scrapping across the tiled floor rips him awake. He pinches his nose.
Breathe. 
He was being foolish, and he closed his eyes.
In the empty break room, the irritated man sat at the window and checked his watch. 
10:41
The soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting the window was the only sound today. 
He hesitates before he heads back to his desk in silence.
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Nov. 10
These days, when you were too busy to join him at 10:30 and 2:15, you’d find a freshly brewed pot with your additives in a cleanly washed mug next to the carafe. Before you could aw, you would also find a sticky note next to the mug with a passive-aggressive message.
‘hurry up. ur so slow.’
‘wow. poor taste in office friends.’
Today, there was a middle finger doodle and a ‘:P’.
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Hey, at least the coffee was back to being well-brewed.
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Nov. 14
It was interesting yet... gross to think back on how the relationship between the two of you had progressed.
The man started by keeping you no closer than an arm’s reach. These days, it felt like that desire had subdued itself. By all means, he wasn’t giving you hugs. The man wouldn’t even give you a high-five!
But that metaphorical distancing felt like it reached its end, especially once you had walked in on him stirring a plastic stick in a mug.
Curiously, you walked over after he abruptly placed it on the counter without taking a sip. Peering into it, you noticed it was a light beige color, not the usual dark, liquid abyss the man usually cradled. 
He huffs as he settles into his chair in the corner of the breakroom near his favorite window, landing a little too clumsily into the seat. Today, it was dreary outside and he watched two raindrops race each other down the clear glass. At the bottom of the glass, they combined into one big raindrop.
Pleased, you lifted the cup to your nose to get a nice whiff of a similar smelling drink similar to the autumnal one you described a while back in October. Kunikuzushi clears his throat after taking a sip of his hot cup and clicks his tongue. 
“Tried something new for myself, but I hate it. Can’t make a real latte without the proper equipment. Drink it; the subpar taste might be perfect for someone like you. Might tide you over til later.”
…Later? What did he mean by ‘later’?
Also, did he just insult you? Whatever. The drink was pretty decent.
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Nov. 15
Later, you found a little pale sticky note on your desk with scribbled text all over it. Snatching it from the bottom of your monitor, you chuckled, expecting yet another bitchy message from the short man. 
‘grab lunch with me tmrw at noon. cafe downstairs, across the street. lets ditch the shit office coffee.’
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Huh.
Not a pissy message this time around.
Breaking the routine yet again.
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it-happened-one-fic · 3 months
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Ink and Magic - The Usurper From The Wilds
Author Notes: Part 2 of this sort of halfway non canon compliant what if with the overblots and their aftermath! A lot of what I said for part 1 counts for this section too. This isn't exactly romantic. in fact, I would say it counts as more platonic, but it certainly can be taken as shippy. This will also be a series, though the Diasomnia section won't come out until that entire matter is resolved in game. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Spoilers for Book 2: Usurper from the Wilds!!
[Heartslabyul] [Savanaclaw: You're here!] [Octavinelle] [Scarabia] [Pomefiore] [Ignihyde] [Diasomnia: To be released]
Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fic series/ Can be platonic or romantic/ fluff/ angst/ comfort/ Spoilers for Savannaclaw overblot.
Word Count: 2353
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Sand was still whipping through the air even as the giant leonine creature let out a final bellow before collapsing. It’s ink mixing with the golden sand that covered the earth, as if trying to hide what had happened here.
Leona’s overblot had, if anything, been more horrifying than Riddle’s. Sand had swirled around us, diminishing our vision and biting into our skin, but Leona himself had been what was truly terrifying. Because unlike Riddle, he’d maintained a sense of lucidity. 
He hadn’t been himself, but…. He’d still had his tact. When he’d spoken, it had been filled with a bitterness that spoke of sense. No person who’d totally lost their mind could have managed that much acerbity. 
Even Riddle, who’d been my only other overblot example, had really just screamed and bellowed basic phrases. Nothing he’d said had seemed quite as pointedly self-depreciating as Leona’s words had.
But what was perhaps more upsetting was the sound that filled the air as Leona was truly defeated. A sound that melded with the blot creatures cries and that I could only describe as a pained roar.
 A cry of a power that spoke of an unexpected defeat that had occurred against all odds.  
My eyes were wide as I watched Leona, of all people, stumble. Because it seemed so impossible that someone so strong would fall in such a fashion.
It was true that what he had done was horrible and that his signature spell had perfectly terrifying possibilities, but… Seeing him look so broken was almost more frightening.
Because up until this point, Leona had been many things, but fragile would never have been a word I would've used to describe him. 
He looked up, his painfully bright green eyes briefly meeting mine as the golden flame around his right eye flickered out of existence. Signaling the end of his overblot.
There was something there in his gaze—something that spoke of loss and made my heart clench painfully in my chest.
I inhaled as I felt it, just like I had with Riddle. That instinctual yet inexplicable need to go to him. 
I started forward, only for my arm to get caught in a vice-like grip by Ruggie, who released a pained sound as soon as he moved his injured arm to grab my wrist, “Are you mad?!”
I looked back at him, noting the pain in his large blue-grey eyes and realizing that I had to be crazy to do what I was about to do. But even as I realized that I was gritting my teeth and going through with what I'd already started.
I swallowed thickly as I mumbled a hasty apology before yanking my arm away from Ruggie, whose expression was a mixture of pain from his injuries and utter confusion.
But there was no hesitation in my motions as I whirled, running towards the weakened prince, who seemed to look my way as soon as I darted forward. Driven on by this unspoken need to reach the lion beastman in front of me.
“Y/N?!” My friends cried my name behind me, but I didn’t heed their pleas for me to come back. I could only trust Riddle to explain my actions as I let my already wobbly legs carry me towards where Leona stood alone.
  After all, Riddle was the only one who might understand what I was doing.
Leona didn’t even brace himself as I slammed into him, wrapping my arms around him in a feeble attempt to keep the already sinking beastman from falling to his knees.
As if by instinct, one of his arms wrapped tightly around me, his clawed fingers digging into my back like he was afraid I would abandon him or suddenly disappear one. 
His grip steadily tightened, and he let out a choked sound as he waged against his own exhaustion and tried to stop both of us from falling, even as he stumbled backwards. 
But his actions were all for nothing as he continued to sink towards the ground, dragging me down with him. 
It was immediately clear that I couldn’t support him as my already trembling legs gave out, and we fully collapsed into the sandy ink that covered the ground as he fell backwards. Still keeping a tight hold on me as we plummeted. 
I barely made out his faint words over my friends' shouts as darkness slowly began to consume me, “I wanted…. To be king….”
It was different this time. 
Instead of the old-recording that had played all of Riddle’s memories, the first thing that sliced its way through the blackness was Leona’s crystal clear, embittered voice,  “From the moment I was born, there's been a boulder on top of me that's too heavy to move.”
I tensed at his words because, unlike Riddle’s narration, it felt strangely like Leona was actually directing his words at me. As if he somehow knew that I was here and listening.
He’d barely finished speaking before a black-and-white scene burst to life, briefly blinding me until my eyes adjusted to the new environment that surrounded me. 
Two unfamiliar people were walking together in this scene. They appeared to be servants who were discussing the crown prince as well as Leona and his power. And judging from the sounds of it, me and my friends weren’t the only ones who feared Leona’s signature spell.
“Crown Prince Falena is such a bright and cheerful young man. I don’t understand why his younger brother has to be so moody all the time.”
“And he possesses such a terrifying power! Imagine being able to turn anything to sand!”
What followed their words was Leona hypothesizing about what they would have said had he been the crown prince. And I found myself frowning at his resentful words. But I couldn't deny that he wasn’t necessarily wrong. 
It wasn’t fair of the servants to look at his magic with only fear. But, considering what had just happened moments ago, it also wasn’t wrong.
It really was one of those situations where I could understand both sides of the argument and couldn’t really fault either one of their perceptions of the situation.
 Leona was bitter, though. Bitter to the point that I wondered if something involving his signature spell had happened to him in the past.
Why were the servants so afraid of him, and how had he known that he could turn living people to sand?
The thought was chilling and made me wonder exactly what accidents might have occurred while Leona was learning to control his magic in his youth.
The scenes continued, uncaring that I was privy to Leona’s memories and now showing that there had been a birth of the new prince. Leona’s nephew. 
I cringed in sympathy for Leona’s brother, Falena, as I watched the scene play out in front of me. Even just from this memory of Leona’s, I could tell that this man loved his little brother. 
But Leona either didn’t realize that or he’d undergone such a number of comparisons that Falena’s love could no longer reach through that deeply entrenched bitterness.
The scene faded away, and it was once again just me, the darkness, and Leona’s voice that seemed to be actively questioning me, even though there was no way I could give him an answer.
“Why will I never, ever get to be the best?” 
I didn’t know enough about his circumstances, and I could not simply forgive everything he’d done. But his voice still continued, almost insistent in its questioning, “Why? Why? Why??”
There was such rawness and unrestrained frustration in his words that, despite what he'd done, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Leona. 
Who hadn’t noticed themselves being compared to someone and wondered what the difference between the two of you was?
And Leona was right. He was powerful, clever, and all the things that should cause people to revere him and for him to the best. But he also seemed defeated. Like he’d come to the conclusion that no matter what he did, at this point it wouldn’t matter.
“Life truly is unfair.”
With those final, resentful words, I was released from whatever held me tied to Leona’s memories. 
I exhaled slightly, my throat tight with emotion as my consciousness returned. The first thing I felt was a hand resting gently on my back, but it wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I realized exactly where I was.
I began to sit up, but found I couldn’t since Leona was, to some degree, holding me to his person. 
Apparently, I’d fallen on top of him when we’d both collapsed and now lay half-sprawled across his body, using him as a pillow as he held me to him.
“Y/N! Oh, thank the Seven! Are you alright?! Are you hurt?” Cater’s frantic voice was accompanied by the sensation of whiplash as he harshly tugged me away from Leona’s passed out form.
The orange-haired third year was now looking at me with a deeply worried expression as he grasped my shoulders tightly and repeatedly scanned my body for injury, “What were you thinking?!! Didn’t you see what he did to Ruggie? He could’ve killed you!” 
I shook my head, attempting to clear the fog from my head as I gently pulled away from the worried young man, “I’m fine, Cater. He wasn’t going to hurt me; he passed out and-”
I stumbled almost immediately as I broke away from Cater’s support, but was soon caught by a pair of steady hands. Glancing behind me, I made eye contact with a concerned set of golden eyes and registered that Jack was frowning at me worriedly.
I was half-dazed, and everything was happening too fast. But even as I tried to gain my bearings, the questions kept coming. And on top of it all, I could already feel a massive headache coming on. 
“Did it happen again?” Riddle’s blunt, to-the-point question sliced clearly through the frenzy of people asking if I was alright and caused me to tense slightly before I looked his way and immediately spotted Crowley standing behind him.
I hesitated before I responded, meeting Riddle’s gaze and nodding, “Yes. I think I may have seen some of Leona’s memories and… heard his thoughts.”
I fell silent, deciding not to mention how it had felt—almost like he’d known I was there. Riddle said he’d felt me there, but he hadn’t seemed to be addressing me. Not like Leona had.
“And you don’t think that’s bad?” Ace’s voice came from behind Jack, who was still holding me upright, but the redhead was soon stepping around Jack so that he could better scold me with a frown on his face. 
“Y/n, have you considered what connecting with overblotted people might do to you?” The pure irritation radiating from Ace startled me, but he didn’t get to fuss at me for very long.
Instead, Ruggie stepped, or rather limped, forward. He was still cradling his arm as he stared at me, “Is he alright?”
Silence fell over the group at Ruggie’s solemn question, but I nodded. Holding the young man’s gaze as I responded, “Yes, Leona’s okay… I think” I paused, frowning as I looked at the hyena beastman, “Are you?”
He managed to crack a smile and nod, but he didn’t get to say anything since Deuce was now questioning my well-being and Grim had begun nudging the still-passed-out Leona with one of his front paws, “Hey! Wake up.”
We turned in time to watch Grim scurry away as Leona let out a groan. One hand reached up to his face to block the bright sunlight as he sat up with a grimace.
 His hand fell away from his face, and he opened his eyes before, almost immediately looking directly up at where I stood. His expression perfectly unreadable.
Similarly to me, the prince wasn’t allowed to recover any, though, as questions and explanations began flying around at a dizzying rate.
The next few moments flew by in a haze, with the Savannaclaw team being given a pass to play just so others could gain their revenge, and the ghosts had shown up so that Ramshackle dorm could have its own team and play in the Spelldrive tournament.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to experience much of the game though, since the last thing I heard during Ramshackle dorm’s opening game was Grim saying the words: “I call this baby the Great Grim Hurricane!”
It was indeed a great Grim hurricane since my next lucid moments took place in the infirmary with a splitting headache and bandages wrapped around my head.
I wasn’t alone, though. The usually motley crue had apparently come to await my awakening, along with a few less expected companions. 
Evidently enough, Leona and Ruggie had also been admitted to the infirmary. But that was no great surprise considering one was heavily injured and the other was exhausted from overblotting. 
What was concerning was the way Leona stared at me the entire time.
It wasn’t until his nephew had come and gone and the nurse had run everyone else, including Ruggie, who’d apparently been cleared to leave, out that the elephant in the room was finally addressed.
“You saw into my head, didn’t you?”
I flinched slightly in my cot but twisted my head, wincing with the motion, to look at the frowning lion man who was currently staring at the ceiling. “I…. Yeah.”
He twisted to meet my gaze, a blank expression on his face as our eyes met just as they had in the stadium earlier today, “Riddle said you saw his memories and thoughts too when he overblotted.” 
He paused, eyebrows lifting, before he continued, “And Ruggie told me about how you charged me and then collapsed.”
Silence hung heavily between us, and I shifted awkwardly before looking away, “Sorry for invading your privacy….”
Green eyes drilled into my head as I continued to look awkwardly away from him, but then I heard him scoff, “Go to sleep, Herbivore. You’ll need it if you're gonna recover from that head injury.”
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satoriberry · 5 months
Text
IMMOVABLE OBJECT VS. UNSTOPPABLE FORCE(S); WHICH ONE OF THEM WINS? THAT'S RIGHT. LOVE!! - tokimitsu aoshi
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-`♡´- resume: the laws of physics can not be disobeyed. unless your friends feel like doing so. then you can twist them as much as you like.
-`♡´- heads up: so much cutie patootieness omg its toki my love my angel my babygirl he was made for me i want to marry him i want to protect him i need to KISS HIM THESE ARENT EVEN WARNINGS ANYMORE. reader has hair (type not specified). takes place during chapter 150 shibuya outing (aka bestest chapter ong) in the uhhh the arcade!! :D very toki-centric (95% his POV)!! btw this scenario is soooo unserious i had fun with this ngl
-`♡´- berry's note: omg i love aoshi so much he's my everything <333 he's so.....*dreamily sighs* you people DO NOT GET IT!!!! HE'S EVERYTHING FOR ME HES MY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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you were so beautiful. so fucking beautiful.
he felt like a creep staring at you like this from afar but any closer and he'll most definitely regurgitate the black coffee he had earlier.
you weren't aware of him, both a sad and convenient thing. you seemed to be having a really fun conversation with your friends, boldly talking with exaggerated body language. you looked like the fun kind; the kind of person to tell a joke that'll have everybody choking, punching each other's arms and coughing. the kind of person he wants to be. or be with. it depends really.
he assumed you'd said something mind-boggling because right after saying it, your friends collectively gasped with varying levels of amusement. that made him snap out of his rêverie and go back to watching four of his friends display a concerning lack of rhythm at DDR, while the others winced or held in their laughter.
well, he was in no lack of bustling conversations himself, what with the rivals-turned-friends that he's currently with. still, it doesn't soothe the ache in his heart. the ache to be sociable, spontaneous, easy-going, calm, funny, witty or even just uncaring if that meant not being constantly on edge about everything.
gazing at his friends, he felt a bitter taste in his mouth. they were all essentially... perfect.
reo - who was stomping arrows with 0 coordination - was the blueprint of the ideal human, yukimiya and aryu looked like magazine cover features in the making, nagi possessed this aura of nonchalance that really sticks with you, and bachira could say anything and everything with zero shame or regret. he didn't have any of that. and he hated that.
he hated himself for that. and he hated that others probably disliked him for the same reasons.
"ahhhh, come on, no negativity. now's not the time," mumbling to himself, he placed his hands on either side of his face, slightly smushing his cheeks, adding some adorableness to his somewhat sombre expression. he turned his head back to you. you had started a game of air hockey with your friends and from where you were standing, he could admire you even better.
the benefit that came with being quiet is being discreet, and that allowed him to notice a number of tiny things about you. your rapidly changing expressions, your eyes (that he had come to be particularly fond of in the last 4 minutes) that darted in all directions to catch the puck and the habit you had of readjusting your bag's strap across your torso. was it a tic? he wondered if you two shared any negative qualities, thinking it'll help him feel more normal, then realised that's a horrible way of thinking about a pretty stranger.
he started to beat himself mentally, punishing his brain and imagination for trying to ruin your possibly perfect character; you didn't deserve that. he didn't deserve to be thinking about you like this, you probably had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or just someone in your life that'll laugh at a loser like him for wanting to imagine a chance with you.
he heard the game-over buzzer of the air hockey machine start to sound out. you and your friend lost, and the winning pair declared a rematch. he watched you and your group talk a bit before they all started to walk away. they were heading towards the token machine to get some more, and you stayed to look after the bags they had left on the floor. pulling out your phone, you started scrolling through your gallery to waste time.
you looked so peaceful, he so badly wanted to know what you were thinking of. for no particular reason, just to have an inner scope into your brain. hands still on his face, he gazed at your tranquil being through his thick lashes as his head was still a bit lowered. he probably looked a little silly like this, like a kindergartener ("tokimitsu!") admiring his first crush playing in mud ("hey tokimitsu!"), but you made him feel so many butterflies by just ("tokimitsu?") being ther-
"TOKIMITSU!!" "AH!? WHAT? WHAT IS IT? I'M SORRY FOR WHAT I DID EVEN THOUGH I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!". he apologized for... nothing in particular to karasu, who had an unnerved expression plastered on his face, and next to him stood yukimiya with one eyebrow raised. he could see from his peripheral view that reo, bachira, isagi and otoya were almost done with their round of DDR.
"DUDE? CAN YOU ANSWER WHEN WE CALL YO-" "karasu, stop yelling. we're in public." "suck my dick. anyway, are you okay, man? what were you looking at?". tokimitsu didn't respond to that, stuttering, "haaa, it's nothing really. just lost in my thoughts. hehe," but his eyes betrayed him by darting in your direction against his will, making the two boys follow his line of sight.
karasu immediately started to chuckle with a bewildered expression. "tokimitsu, were you CHECKING OUT that girl? i didn't know you had it in you. i have to say, dude, i'm proud of you. you're finally turning into a man."
with a newfound sense of shame, tokimitsu started to defend his image, replying, "c-checking her out? no, i-i-i was just admiring her. I MEAN! no. i wasn't staring at her. she's just a girl y'know- NOT THAT IT'S A BAD THING TO BE JUST A NORMAL PERSON. I DON'T KNOW HER, I SWEAR. I MEAN....". of course, any person with eyes could see that he was totally fibbing. behind them, the other guys started to group around the three after hearing the words "tokimitsu" and "checking out" and "girl". it's just those things that you NEVER hear in the same sentence.
bachira was the first to join in on the fun, asking, "what's going on?" "NOTHI-" "SHUT UP YOU! guys. form a circle."
with a strong shove, tokimitsu was pushed aside by karasu who forced everyone into a circle where he was clearly mumbling god knows what in a mischievous manner. after a few moments and a couple nods, like a hivemind, they all raised their heads and looked at him with something peculiar in their eyes.
he didn't like that. not even a bit.
"umm, what's going on?," he inquired timidly, feeling that nothing good was about to happen. karasu was the first to move towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder with his head down. "we're sorry for everything." confused, tokimitsu stared at him with an almost innocent sort of confusion. "huh." "nagi, bachira, yukimiya. do your thing."
before tokimitsu could register what's going on, he felt 6 arms wrap around his torso and both arms. following that, otoya and reo joined, placing their hands on his chest and stomach to push him backwards in a combined effort. to say he was lost and and confused was an understandment. why were they dragging him away like a captive?
then it dawned on him. they're trying to drag him to you.
they're forcing him to speak to you.
in the microsecond that this realisation hit him, he immediately forced his feet into the ground and tried to slip his arms out of their grasp, which, considering just how jacked he was, proved quite easier than expected. their grip on him started to falter but they seemed to persevere, desperately trying to make this work. grunting, they doubled the force and accelerated their movements, forcing him to take backward steps. when he noticed that the DDR machines were leaving his sight, that's when the panic really started to settle in.
"COME ON GUYS, JUST LET ME GO! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! I DON'T WANT THIS, JUST PLEASE, LET ME GO, I'M BEGGING!," he began to somewhat shriek while grabbing at their sleeves or their hands and trying to rid himself of them with no avail. "NO! WE'RE DOING THIS FOR YOU!" "BUT I CAN'T, I DON'T WANT IT."
on any normal day, you would've waited for your friends with no concerns or worries in the world, but when there's a group of boys hauling another boy in what seemed to be your exact direction, you assumed you had to be ready for whatever was about to happen. however, a blue haired boy speedwalked from behind and past them, reaching you in a few seconds' time. he stuck out his hand, you understood he wanted to shake yours.
reciprocating the gesture, he shook your hand and spoke, "karasu tabito. no time for formalities. okay, see, here's the thing," he swiftly put his arm around your back and obliged you to look at tokimitsu being held captive and inching closer to you. "ya' see that guy? the one with the blue backpack? yeah, exactly, the one with the red and green sweater. see, he sooo has the hots for you, he thinks you're really pretty. but unfortunately, he's too much of a coward to do anything so we're delivering him to you. do with that what you will."
he removed his arm and placed them on his hips, watching his mastermind plan come to fruition. you, on the other hand, got the gist of what's going on but you couldn't exactly say you weren't still lost. after some more yelling and resisting, the five guys managed to displace tokimitsu and have him right in front of you. turning him around so he would be face forward, he promptly stopped his movements after seeing that you were right there. right in front of him. gazing at him with confusion but very bright amusement.
he felt his mouth dry up, words stuck at back of his throat with no way of coming out. not in these conditions, not after you watched him get hauled like some freak. karasu winked at him before heading off, followed by the others who gave him thumbs up and whisper-yelled encouraging words.
you watched them leave, then turned your head to gaze at tokimitsu, taking in the redness of his face and the shock in his green, doe eyes. they were really mesmerising. you gave him a grin with your eyebrows raised. "hey."
that simple word made him crumble, sending him into overdrive. your voice was sweeter than anything he had imagined it to be. he tried to muster the courage to speak but miserably failed, stuttering and falling over nonsensical syllables. he gave up in no time, burying his face in his hands, closing his eyes and imagining himself elsewhere far, far away.
he expected you to snarl and ditch him or to even spit harsh words for wasting your time like this. but you did none of those.
he felt a few gentle taps on one of his hands, compelling him to peer at you through his fingers. you wore a good-natured smile on your face, looking content rather than annoyed. "i get it, really. i get super anxious over certain things too. but your friend already told me about what you want to say to me."
oh oh. that couldn't be good. he pressed his hands further into his skin without looking away, waiting for the oncoming rejection and getting turned down.
"you're really cute yourself. and handsome. whichever you like more. could you give me your hand?"
was this real? were you real? no. you had to be an angel of some sort. mindlessly removing both hands from his face and sticking one out, he watched as you took out a ballpoint pen from your bag's outer pocket and scribbled something on his palm.
you lifted your eyes and spoke, "my LINE username. we'll talk on there. is that okay with you?," he retracted his hand to read your handle, noticing the smiley next to where you scribbled. he nodded shyily, not closing his palm so he doesn't sweat off his only method of reconnecting with you. you graced him with another toothy grin before turning around to see your friends waving at you. ah. you had to leave.
you spun around to look at him one last time, waving and taking slow steps backwards. noticing that, he finally uttered his first words to you, "w-wait! what's...what's your name?," determined to put a name on your perfect being. your smile grew a bit more, then you answered, "(last name). (last name) (first name). and you are?"
"tokimitsu. tokimitsu a-aoshi."
"well then, i'll learn more about you later, tokimitsu. bye!" you spun on your foot, speedwalking to where your friends stood. he watched you tell them something that made them all look up and peer at him, then giggle in a very teenage girl fashion, before exiting the arcade, you with them.
tokimitsu stood for a few more seconds before staring down at the palm you had previously gripped with your tender hands. the reality of what just took place hit him harder than anything, the astonishment he was feeling not helping his heart's dangerous rhythm.
he didn't hesitate to immediately copy your LINE user on a piece of paper, since he could never underestimate his sweaty palms. rewriting it, he found himself imitating you and drawing a fun doodle next to your username. except, he didn't draw a smiley like you did.
he drew a heart instead.
<3
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-`♡´- berry's post-writing note: TOKIMITSUUUUUUUUUU YOU ARE MY EVERYTHINGGGGGG AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHH THE THINGS I WOULD FOR YOUUU and to you hehehe ANYWAYYYYYYY hope you guys enjoyed reading this cause i enjoyed writing this bitch ong i COOKED and if you guys don't think so uhhhhh skill issue i love anything that has to do with tokimitsu aoshi!! born march 21st favourite food eel doesn't like cream-based foo- BTW IF you're thinking "hmmm reader was supposed to play a rematch HAHAHA IMPLICIT PLOT POINT: your friends were like "fuck it we dont want that anymore call reader over so we can dip" HAHAHAHA YOU DIDNT EXPECT THAT DID YOU!!
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faewritesfanfic · 8 months
Text
Eden Overthinks
It was a Saturday, and Bailey and Eden were in an old crypt in the woods, looking for antiques to sell to the museum. Kore was in the woods nearby, foraging for food for the coming week.
Between the hunters, and the traps, this was probably the least dangerous part of the week for all of them.
"Okay, what's got you in a mood?" Bailey asked Eden as the wild youth smashed a truly much too large spider to death with a rock. "What have you got to be upset about? I know for a fact you had a fantastic week. The whole orphanage knows."
Eden grunted a non-commital response as he bashed the spider one more time for good measure. The week had not, in fact, been fantastic. It had been un-fucking-believable. The week had started with Kore climbing into his bed half naked, asking him to take her virginity. Every fear he'd had about breaking her had been assuaged as she rallied time and again to keep up with him in all aspects. Sexually she was eager to experiment with new ways of pleasing him when her sex drive failed to match up to his. If she had a problem with his possessiveness, she didn't show it. Kore had failed to react at all when Eden picked up and moved the person sitting next to her in English so he could take the spot. She was openly affectionate, holding his hand in public, and kissing him on the cheek when they would part ways. Kore didn't seem to notice the people staring, the people watching and wondering how a freak like him got a girl like her.
It was unbelievable.
"I think Kore is playing a trick on me." Eden grumbled at last, putting down the rock and picking up his flashlight.
"What do you mean?" Bailey asked as they started to move. While Eden held the flashlight, Bailey used a long stick to check in front of them for traps for loose ground. "Did something happen?"
Eden frowned as he considered his response. Yeah, a lot had happened. None of it seemed real.
The flashlight caught on a branching path and illuminated a burial chamber. Bailey's stick caught on a trip wire, a volley of darts shooting through the air in front of the boys as they held their breath.
"Kore called me her boyfriend." Eden said at last as they cautiously entered the room. Rings and trinkets lined the walls, but Eden left those to Bailey as he went to inspect the sarcophagus at the end of the room.
"How's that a trick?" Bailey asked, shoving ancient treasures into a backpack he had stolen from a sleeping tourist on a bus. "You have a strange way of bragging. You know that, right?"
Eden glared at Bailey, but they were both still for a moment as Eden reached down and pried the sarcophagus lid open. "Just a corpse." Eden announced as he ran his flashlight over the contents. Once they had opened a coffin and a pale thing with too many legs had jumped out and tried to attach itself to Bailey's face. They hoped to never encounter one again. "Anyway, I'm not bragging."
"Oh, yeah, you're totally not bragging." Bailey snorted, rummaging through the sarcophagus for anything potentially valuable. "Oh, look at me! I'm Eden! The girl I've liked since I was ten likes me back, and we have really loud sex every night tha--"
Eden jabbed Bailey in the ribs, causing the smaller orphan to yelp and shatter a few bones into dust accidently.
"Oiy!" Bailey snapped, shaking his hands to get the old dead guy off. "What was that for?!"
"There's no way this is real!" Eden snapped back, his expression sullen and bitter.
He knew it was the truth. There was no way Kore really wanted him. She deserved the world, and someone who could give it to her. Whatever game she was playing, she would tire of it soon. Eden just wanted to enjoy the time he had with her while he could.
"No way what's real?" Bailey demanded. "The sex, the relationship, what? Cuz it looks real to everyone who has to watch you two."
"None of it! None of it is real!" Eden shot back, feeling sick to say it. He liked the lie. He liked the world where Kore really cared about him, and he got to be with her, and things were just good. Everything else in his life had been such a struggle that he just wanted this one thing to be easy.
But it wasn't.
"So, you're telling me that Kore, our Kore, climbed into bed with you and started acting like you were dating for, what? Shits and giggles?" Bailey asked, his tone dangerously flat.
Eden's mouth goes dry, and he understands why Bailey slams his fist into his jaw.
"I deserved that." Eden groans as he spits blood. He seems to still have all his teeth, but his cheek was cut open in his mouth.
"Yeah you fucking did!" Bailey spits, wringing his sore hand. "That's Kore you're talking about! No one says shit like that about her. If anyone else had said that you would have ripped them apart!"
He was right. Eden would never have let anyone else disparage Kore like that. "It just... doesn't make sense." Eden mumbles. He slumps down against the sarcophagus, head hung in shame.
Bailey drops to the ground next to Eden, still nursing his hand. "What doesn't make sense about it?"
"Just, everythi--"
"No, no." Bailey stopped Eden. "You're being stupid. I know there's no fixing stupid, but fuck it, I'm gonna try. So explain it to me. What about Kore wanting to be with you doesn't make sense?"
Bailey could be such a smug little asshole. "She could be with anyone she wants!" Eden snapped.
"She wants to be with you." Bailey countered calmly. "Next."
Eden pursed his lips and glowered at Bailey, not sure if he wanted to play this game. "She's asexual."
"And?" Bailey arches a brow, as if to tell Eden to tread carefully. Bailey himself identified as an aromantic asexual. "She still wants to be with you. What do you think that means?"
"That..." It really was hard to parse these out when Eden had to explain them. "I'm her best friend and I'm safe to check with?"
"Do I need to hit you again?" Bailey growls.
"No." Eden sighs. "I guess I just can't imagine why she would want to be with me. She could do so much better than me."
"I know. It's freaky." Bailey says. "No one has any idea what she sees in you."
"How is this helping?" Eden demands.
"Well obvious she sees something in you worth loving!" Bailey says with a shrug. "If you're not sure what it is, maybe you should ask her?"
The idea hung in the air for a moment. "Oh." Eden finally says.
Really, that was the end of the discussion. It seemed like such a simple solution to Eden. All he had to do was ask Kore why she cared about him. It was easy.
So why was it so terrifying?
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Text
Black Butler, Rewatch: Episode 1
Episode 1: “His Butler, Able”
Before watching this episode, on a scale of 1-10, how much are you looking forward to seeing it again?
The episode that started it all. It’s okay not the best episode and I analyzed the entire first chapter so I have very mixed feelings about the anime’s take. Nevertheless, I still enjoy watching it. 
Favorite screencap: (I have two just because I can’t think of one without the other.)
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Favorite Moment:
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I loved seeing this entire scene animated. The swift ability Sebastian displays to easily pull the tablecloth. I love how they focused on his concentration as pulled the tablecloth away and in an instant the cup settled with the wine now in the cup. The contrast of the Butler and Earl’s reaction in the scene was great. If anything they animated this scene wonderfully. I will never get tired of it.
Least Favorite Moment:
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Ciel: I don't need to explain my actions.
So this dart scene always made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like what Ciel did. Plus when I actually read the manga he didn’t do this to Finnian or the others. I could see him doing this to Sebastian easily but not the rest of his staff. It kind of made him more of a cruel tyrant in a way. It doesn’t fit Ciel when it comes to those closely connected to him. He would not do something so cruel to Finny. 
This entire scene makes him out to be a completely spoiled brat and makes the audience less inclined to see him as more than a wicked upstart noble.
Manga/Anime Difference Thoughts:
They definitely changed stuff from the original manga and these are some of things that stand out to me.
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Ciel summoning Sebastian. This is not how the manga does it. There is no cage involved it almost seems like a void is where they first met. I prefer how it is shown in the actual manga. The naked child under a sheet is just wrong. Thank goodness the Book of Circus follows canon. 
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Sebastian is hinted at as being abnormal in chapter 1 but he is still considered ‘human’. In contrast, the anime plays up his supernatural abilities from the start. This is kind of a misstep they are missing out on the big reveal. I think if they kept with the original manga interpretation they could have made the big reveal rather shocking. One of the things I love about the manga is it starts giving hints to his demonic nature but it doesn’t show them right around.
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Who are you, good sir? Where is Chlaus? I can’t imagine why they changed him out. Except to have someone they could torture from the get-go. Missing out on an important overarching plot in the first book with the drugs because Chlaus isn’t there to give the evidence. That scene is necessary to understand Ciel’s role as Watch Dog. The anime just makes Ciel someone who tortures people to get his way. Also interesting to note it is Sebastian who greets the arrival whereas in the manga it is Ciel who welcomes Chlaus. From the beginning, it tells you what they think of their guest.
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Morning tea Earl Grey instead of Ceylon Tea. The tea set is different too. It is a bitter variety of tea while in the manga Ciel starts out with a citrus tea. The original tea in the manga fits with the little hints of his childlike nature and his love of milk with honey for bed. This tea seems to play on the fact they want things darker. On a side note, the entire reason I tried Earl Grey was because of Black Butler and it’s one of my favorite teas now.  I always thought it would be too bitter but after trying it I loved it so much. 
What’s one thing you noticed/realized about this episode that you hadn’t before?
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The Portrait/Flashback image looks ghastly and for some reason, Rachel has black hair. This looks odd and given how she looks in the rest of the anime I think it was a mistake.
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The board game is still a good interpretation of the canon. I still enjoy the clever board game between Ciel and the bad guy. Even if it’s not in the manga it does demonstrate both Ciel’s intelligence and ability. Along with the fact he is a kid. Even in the manga Ciel is very prone to playing games it’s one of his joys in life. And it’s often used to show his detachment from the world and how he views life in general. So I think it was cool.
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Foodie moment. They did a great job with the food what can I say? I want to show each dessert that Sebastian serves Ciel just because it is delicious. 
On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate this episode?
To be honest I started with the manga (when it was still limited in translation) for a little while but the anime is how I was truly got into Black Butler. The beginning never entirely endeared me to the characters or the story. It wasn’t until they got into the Jack the Ripper stuff that was in it for the long haul. When I did read the manga I really viewed the anime differently and from a writing standpoint I think the manga was better.
They changed so many things I loved about the manga. The episode feels inconsistent and the payoff isn’t here. While I like the torture of the bad guy toy factory manager it made the series even darker and paints a bitter contrast to the manga. Plus they stuff so much filler in here. It works I suppose for the anime-only season but it gives you a different viewpoint on Black Butler as a whole. 
Celebrate it! (A little poem for you all.)
A lone visitor comes to call.
When will this foolish man fall?
Ravens stalk the night.
Danger lurks with frights.
Mishaps and chaos abound.
Yet still the Butler is profound.
Next Episode: Episode 2 His Butler, Strongest
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yarugawitch · 6 months
Text
Nnoitra/Reader: "Caged"
One-shot, SFW (blood and some dark themes present), love-hate, arrancar!reader, bird arrancar!reader Nnoitra is very fucking confusing with his feelings
A very old work of mine. It's been in my drafts for god knows how long so I mean why not share it? I wouldn't say I'm proud of this one but it's not bad either. It doesn't look finished though but oh well
>Masterpost
🕷
You made whatever coursed through his cold, dead veins boil. 
At first, he’d thought that you were just like Nelliel, a damn pacifist, kind soul, here just to make his existence harder, but shortly after you’d reached the rank of an Espada he realized that he was wrong. Somehow you were even worse.
It didn’t take long for you to gain everyone’s attention. Confident, up to the challenge, and skilled enough for it not to be just an empty phrase. Aizen was ecstatic with how you turned out. You were a perfect noble warrior, suited for his army. 
To be fair, Nnoitra too was tempted by the idea of fighting you. No one was sure if they ever saw you injured so drawing your blood both for fun and out of pride seemed even more exhilarating. 
Every duel had to start with a little game of hide and seek. You were either already going for each other’s throats with Jaegerjaquez somewhere, or sitting in one of the chambers in the tallest tower of Las Noches, your home. With his enhanced pesquisa locating you wasn’t a big deal, however, the erratic and swift nature of your fighting form made getting to you a lot harder. Especially if your opponent was someone as mobile as you. 
This wasn’t very fun. 
Sometimes you even proposed a game of tag yourself and without waiting for his response darted in the direction of the horizon, while almost making him fall over with the sheer power of the gust of wind your huge wings created. Well. He did fall the first couple of times this happened. Not his proudest moments.
You’d probably sensed his ill intent from the start, you smart thing. The way you handled him was different from what your fights usually looked like. It was both insulting and… Well, somewhat interesting. You didn’t cut him any slack but still decided to toy with him like a bird would toy with its prey, constantly throwing him around, making distance, and closing it just to deal a single blow. And then the same thing over and over.
And the worst part was that you did just have fun. All of this wasn’t in a hateful or mocking manner. Every time he found himself lying on his back half-buried in the sand you just laughed and offered him a hand.
“Nice one. But make sure to flash me at least a single smile when we meet next time, though. Your bitter expression is starting to make me pissed.”
“Go to hell.”
Disgusting.
Yet, he returned every time. The need to avenge his lost pride was far stronger than his dislike towards you and your cocky smile. This was the only reason he wanted to make you hurt, however. He didn’t feel the same hatred, the same frustration and annoyance he felt towards Nelliel with you, no matter how similar you two sometimes seemed. 
Seemed, that’s the key word here. He absolutely despised her and only just didn’t like you. You actually saw him as an opponent, even though that was just a game for you. You saw him. Not as some idol, not as some evil that must be purged but as…him.
Nnoitra was yet to make you take him more seriously, though, but he was adamant on doing everything in his power to change that, whether you liked it or not.
🕷
Another fight between you and Grimmjow ended abruptly. You just rushed to your tower without a word despite winning again. Usually, you were more energetic and talkative once the blue-haired asshole was out of breath but you’d been slow and apathetic for quite some time and now you just left. Which was odd.
Nnoitra happened to be near and witnessed the whole ordeal. Naturally, he was curious about what happened, but not that curious. It took him about half a day to finally notice that you didn’t return yet. No one had seen you after what happened before as well.
Seemingly never-ending stone stairs leading up to the topmost chamber made some time for him to think. It was strange that he passed the hall which only you had been taking and out of nowhere felt a need to check the tower. He almost turned back a couple of times, but the feeling that he had the right to know what was the matter got the best of him. And he definitely wasn’t disappointed when he reached the final flight of stairs. You were sitting in the center of the huge circular room and tending to… a wound. A nasty one at that. It had stopped bleeding a long time ago but still was burning hot and crimson from fresh blood. The smell of flesh hit his nostrils and almost made his mouth water out of long-forgottenl instinct.
Now he was starting to understand. He never saw anything or anyone hit you to suspect that something was wrong with your hierro. It would take at least triple the force Jaegerjaquez used on you for an average Arrancar to bleed. And you deflected and parried attacks suspiciously frequent for someone who was supposed to have impenetrable armor. There was no point in lying anymore. He saw it. 
Your hierro was flawed from birth, which made you so keen on improving your strength and skills. It did use to pick up its density and hardness after a certain amount of damage dealt but the more powerful other hollows started to become the fewer reasons you had to just stand there and take blows some of which could as well be lethal.
Nnoitra couldn’t keep himself from laughing. How pathetic! To think that everyone including himself saw you as an equal! You were no better than a soft-skinned shinigami. And it turned out Aizen knew about the way your hierro worked, too. What a fucking farce.
“You know that nothing is stopping me from taking your life right now or telling everybody about this to make you an easy target, yes?”
He felt somewhat robbed of his chance to make you bleed in a fight, though. Jealous, even. This damn stray cat…
“Go ahead. But what does this knowledge give anybody anyway? It’s not the mystery that makes me strong.”
Nnoitra ground his teeth but then smirked.
“Whatever. Now I’m at least certain you can feel pain.”
He never told anybody about it in the end and this knowledge made whatever interactions you two had much more intimate for some reason. A fleeting connection because of the information that he possessed. Just him and almost nobody else. It wasn’t just an advantage in a fight, it was a more personal matter and he HATED it. Curse his curiosity. It made him sick to his stomach how your own vulnerability caused him to let himself run his big fat mouth and just say whatever came to his mind. Why did he even want to talk with you in the first place? 
You, on the other hand, felt relieved. Despite his own displeasure with the way he acted around you, Gilga was surprisingly good at small talk and cracking jokes. You tried to pay as little attention to this fact as you could because you sensed his discomfort and knew how hard it was for someone like GIlga. Well… Most of the time you acted like you didn’t catch on to anything. It was too funny not to point out sometimes.
But nonetheless, you always listened. And this time you made encounters with him outside your conversations count and hurt, just like he wanted. 
🕷
You fool. You absolute fool.
How could you let this happen?!
He should’ve known from your conversations - no, from the fucking start - that this good nature of yours and blatant opposition to being involved in anything Aizen was planning was going to do you no good. This absolutely disgusting naivety that made you think everyone would leave this unnoticed now was leading you straight to hell. Not being interested in pledging your loyalty is one thing but openly saying no while being a fucking Espada was stupid beyond words. You obviously wanted to get hurt, Nnoitra was sure of it. And he had nothing to say when you were on your knees before Aizen while he was contemplating what to do with you.
The man was deciding for longer than he should’ve, though. In any other situation, be it anyone else, they would’ve already been sprawled on the floor with their head exploded into a million pieces for all the angels above to see. But you were alive and well, shooting the nastiest glare possible in the direction of your master. This should’ve been the reason Aizen gave it more thought. You were useful, powerful, had a talent for getting into people’s heads and no one would be surprised if it turned out he had some twisted favoritism towards you, so he needed something other than killing you. Something other than stripping you of your ranks. Letting you get away with this wasn’t an option either because this would be a good lesson for all the Espada watching.
And so confinement until you were to change your mind with Ulquiorra as your torturer was chosen. Nnoitra was almost clawing at walls upon hearing the verdict. He just didn’t know what to feel. Anger? Relief? 
In the end, he just convinced himself you deserved it. You should’ve known better and kept yourself safe without trying to be some kinda martyr. Why didn’t you just take care of yourself? Why did you have to think about someone else?
Ironically enough the tower you considered your home was now your prison. The fact that they did nothing but chained you to the wall was even more infuriating to Nnoitra. As if this was going to do something for a hollow. But they knew you weren’t gonna escape. Doing nothing, being a damn pacifist was your goal from the start, as if you were making some stupid statement. As if you were here just to make his existence harder. 
Nnoitra had to see it for himself. Almost every other day ended with him visiting the tower just to watch you sit there. Sometimes bleeding after Ulquiorra’s cruel manipulations. He had nothing to say except some nasty comments and insults. You said nothing in return as if you knew what he actually felt. And this made him visit you less and less. It was fucking unbearable.
Today wasn’t much different. Nnoitra found you in your usual place with your back against the wall. There was a huge bloodstain on the previously perfectly white wall above you, with a drag mark leading to where you were as if you got the back of your head bashed on the wall and just slid down. You gave him an almost sinister smile and it made his skin crawl. But he just scowled.
“You’re back. I almost forgot what you look like.”
“Of course you did. I’m surprised you remember anything at all with Ulquiorra painting walls using your head like this.”
“Oh come on now, it’s not that bad.”
“Shut up.”
And you even had the audacity to downplay this and joke with him. Disgusting, absolutely, utterly disgusting. The fact that he wanted to fight you and saw you as his close one at one point was hardly believable. With the pitiful sight you have become he lost all respect he had for you. It almost made him want to join Ulquiorra in teaching you a fucking lesson.
“Say, why are you still here?”
“I’m chained as you can see. I can’t exactly leave this place just because I want to.”
“Stop playing with me. We both know you can break the damn thing just fine,” he spat. “What are you even trying to achieve?”
“I just don’t want to be involved in any of this.”
“Even if it means your death?”
Your smile grew even bigger. 
“So it seems.”
You said it so calmly as if you already accepted your death. 
“Why you…”
With a few long strides, he reached you and roughly dragged you by one of the legs just so you were lying on your back in the center of the room now. One of his hands deftly pressed your head to the floor to immobilize you as he got on top while the other acted as a support. Nnoitra was almost shaking from all kinds of emotions. If you wanted it so badly then he would gladly help. In fact, he was the only one who had the right to.
He opened his mouth to rip into your throat with his teeth, but as they made contact with the skin on your neck there was only a clinking sound. Your hierro. It was hardened. Just how many times did Cifer try to cut your throat?
“Sorry… That’s a bad spot to try to gnaw into now.”
Feeling as if he had just been punched in the gut, Nnoitra lowered himself, panting from shock and frustration. This helplessness was too much for him. He felt caged with his anger and defenses slowly crumbling away.
“Why do you have to be like this…” he whispered. “What good is this whole scene to you?”
The way you smiled despite all of this happening to you deserved respect. He probably would’ve done the same. He would never surrender, even with his soul enslaved. But he didn’t like seeing you like this. It made him wonder if he could’ve done something to change it. It made him angry beyond words. It made him miserable. But he would be killed if he did something. And he can’t die like this.
“Why are you doing this to me…”
“I’m sorry, Nnoitra… I know we could’ve been good. We were good together. But you know better than anybody what is a principle to the likes of us.”
“That’s what is killing me.”
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druidgroves · 2 years
Text
jealousy
fandom: the wayhaven chronicles pairing: morgan x f!detective (adelle duval) notes: prompt from this meme was “OH you’re jealous!”
* this is a repost from my old blog *
The bar was fairly crowded, even for a Friday night in Wayhaven.
Adelle had managed to convince Unit Bravo to go out, if not for a few drinks, then at least for some fun. Farah was doing her best at darts (a few people had to duck at her latest throw), Nate had convinced Adam to try a game of pool, and Morgan was attempting to get the next round from the already overwhelmed bartender.
She liked it when the group went out together. It allowed her to see a different side of the unit, one that rarely came out whenever they were working together on a case. She always seemed to know when it was time for the gang to let loose and just live it up a little. Well, as much as someone could live it up in Wayhaven.
As had become habit to her, Adelle’s gaze fell back to Morgan. She was facing the bartender now, giving him the drink order for the group, and Adelle couldn’t help but let her eyes drift to appreciate her backside, just a little. She was teetering just on the edge of tipsy, a warm, fuzzy feeling starting to bloom at the back of her head, so her thoughts were starting to wander to less than wholesome places the longer she stared. She was sure that if she had the guts to ask, Morgan might have been thinking the same.
The chain of thought seemed to overtake her for a brief moment as she tried to get the woman’s attention when she seemed to be looking Adelle’s way. She did that Thing Tina had taught her to do, where she would try to catch Morgan’s eye then look away and bite her lip, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she did. Tina had said it was a fail-proof move, but as Adelle watched Morgan look away from the booth, and instead to a group of girls at the end of the bar, she wasn’t too sure. There was something oddly familiar about the situation.
The girls looked to be about college aged, home for the weekend it seemed. They were doing their best to make it look like they weren’t ogling Morgan, but failing miserably by the way they broke into laughter and whispered conversation whenever she looked back at them. Something settled in the pit of Adelle’s stomach that made her frown into her drink as she pulled it up to her lips.
From the corner of her eye she could see Farah walking back to the booth, her game of darts having apparently come to an end. The young vampire seemed rather pleased with herself, though the new holes in the wall beside the board might have told a different story.
“I think I’m getting pretty good at darts!” Farah grinned as she sat down beside her, unaware of the bitterness starting to emanate from her friend, “We should play later! We’d make a great team if your aim with the paper airplanes is anything to go by.”
“Yeah, maybe later,” Adelle muttered, lowering herself into the seat of the booth, eyes still trained on Morgan at the bar. She didn’t seem to be paying attention to the still-fawning girls after having given them a curious glance, which made Adelle feel slightly better.
“You alright?” Farah asked, head cocked to the side as she waved a hand in front of Adelle’s face.
“I’m…fine,” she replied after a beat, slowly sinking further into her seat.
“No offense, but you don’t sound fine,” the other woman replied. She followed Adelle’s line of sight until it fell upon Morgan and the group of girls at the bar. One of them, a tall redhead with flushed cheeks, seemed to be scribbling something onto her napkin before walking over to Morgan with an air of confidence that almost made Adelle’s teeth grind. She forced herself to look away, deciding to down the rest of her drink while she was at it.
Farah looked back to Adelle, then back at Morgan, then to Adelle’s white-knuckle grip on her glass before that ever-present, mischievous smile spread across her lips.
“Oh!” she laughed, “You’re jealous!”
Adelle nearly choked on her drink, “What? I’m not jealous, don’t be so loud—“
“Who’s not jealous?”
Morgan was suddenly standing in front of the table, putting down the drinks in her hands onto the table and Adelle could feel the tips of her ears turning red.
Farah gave one last look between the two before sliding out of the booth, “I think I’m gonna see if Nate will teach me how to play pool. Bye!”
And with that, she was gone, Morgan sliding into the now vacant spot beside Adelle.
“So are you going to answer my question?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, lips pulling together into a smirk.
“I’m not jealous,” Adelle muttered, reaching out to take the new drink before her, still glowering at the bar.
“Not jealous of what?” Morgan looked to where Adelle’s eyes were still fixated. “What, them?”
The group was still huddled at the end of the bar, though the red head seemed to have disappeared.
“Tell me you’re joking,” Morgan continued, shifting to look back at the blonde woman beside her who was now twirling the straw in her glass and avoiding her gaze.
“I’m not jealous,” she repeated again.
“Sure,” Morgan with a huff of a laugh.
“I’m not!” Adelle protested, perhaps a little louder than she should have as a few people began looking her way. She sunk back into the booth.
“Whatever you think went on over there, you’re wrong,” Morgan said, taking a small sip of her beer and trying not to flinch at the intensity of it.
“So you didn’t accept one of their numbers?”
“Why would I want it?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Why would you care if you weren’t jealous?”
Adelle bit the inside of her cheek, crossing her arms as Morgan’s smirk grew.
“Okay,” she finally relented, taking a drink, “Maybe I am jealous.”
She felt the fabric of the seat under her shift as Morgan moved closer to her, slinging an arm over the backside of the booth and letting it ghost above her shoulders.
“Surely you’re smarter than that,” she said, voice low and close enough to her ear that the heat from her breath made a shiver run down her spine, “You really think that low of me? That I would take the number of someone who couldn’t possibly be as appreciative in bed as you? As loud?”
Adelle’s eyebrows nearly shot into her hairline at the comment, almost making her spit her drink back into the glass. She could feel the heat of her cheeks as much as she could feel the heat of Morgan’s breath against her neck.
“If anything, they should be the jealous ones,” Morgan continued, the ghost of her teeth grazing Adelle’s jaw, “They don’t get to be as lucky as you.”
A hand reached under the table to rest on her knee, slowly making its way up her leg before stopping on the inside of her thigh.
“If you keep this up, we’ll be kicked out of the bar,” Adelle said, voice hoarse enough that it earned a wolfish grin from Morgan.
“That’s the goal,” she replied, nipping at the skin of her neck just hard enough to elicit a small moan from the detective, “C’mon, sweetheart, show me how jealous you can be.”
At that, Adelle slid out of the opposite side of the booth, face red but with a determined expression on it. Morgan trailed close behind her, a cocky smirk gracing her lips.
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the-madwomen · 3 months
Text
... Have you ever played a carnival game and realized it was rigged?
We remember, when our system was far younger, we saw a news segment on carnival games. One of the games was a basketball game. Just get the ball in the basket, you win a prize.
Now, the news team managed to get an actual basketball player. As far as we remember, they were actually in the NBA, and or at the very least they were a professional.
He couldn't make the shot.
No matter how hard he tried or how good he was, he couldn't make the shot.
It turned out that the hoop in question was actually an *oval* shape rather than a circular one. Theoretically you *could* get the ball in there, but it would require just the right angle and still need a great deal of luck.
And, of course, the carnival could get their "prizes" for cheaper than what they were charging for the games. That's how capitalism works, buy low, sell high and all that. And it wasn't some secret, you could go to the same websites and buy them yourself! Even buying in bulk would be cheaper than a ticket to the carnival.
So, the real question is, after learning all that... Why would you want to play the carnival games?
Yeah, it's fun and might impress your date, but even that will wane after a bit. The fun stops around the fifth or sixth try as it turns into bitter stubbornness, and your date will get bored after a while and the excitement dies down, especially if you never actually get the damned teddy bear!
Well, the simple answer is gambler’s fallacy and sunk cost fallacy, but what causes us to start playing if we already know we'll lose?
Now, imagine if everyone lived in one of these carnivals. Where all the games are rigged against you, and there's no way to outright buy the plushies from a website.
You can't win those games, can you? But of course the barkers will taunt you about it. It's a game of skill, they say, not luck. Hurry, hurry, step right up and try to win a Teddy Bear! And in this hypothetical carnival they say that, if you manage to win a Teddy Bear you get to make some changes to how the carnival works!
Enticing, isn't it?
And to many, the solution is clear... We play the carnival games! We try to win as many games as possible and BADA BING BADA BOOM! The changes will one day be enough to where things are significantly better!
But the carnival is already privy to this. They realize that people want the Teddy Bears, and they did give a big ol' hefty promise that whoever gets them gets to change the rules, so they have some tricks up their sleeves. They make sure that people who align with their rules have an easier time with the games. Makes sense, you want that power to be in the hands of people who agree with you. Besides, if *no one* can win the carnival games, that gets suspicious real quick.
So, they either put in plants disguised as customers or they scout for people who align with their ideals. As for everyone else, the game is made deliberately harder. For some, even impossible. And in the rare case that someone does make that shot, hit the bullseye, score a three-pointer... Well, if those people can't be bribed, they can just have their little rule-change. After all, the rules still have to be approved by those in power. And even if they manage to get a more radical rule through, something that improves lives throughout the carnival…
Well, one person can't start a revolution.
Revolution is a team effort, first and foremost. Buuuuuut the carnival games are all single player. The games are all designed so that people think that just the right person needs to win a Teddy Bear to take down the carnival, some theoretical Great Man to lead the charge. And the carnival's infamous Hall of Winners, taught to all the children born and raised in the carnival, is more than happy to push that narrative.
They want people to think that they could be the one to do it, or to wait on that person. That maybe, with enough practice, or luck, or darts, or water guns, good aim, letters, rings to toss, votes to cast, megaphones to shout in, representatives at the tents, water balloons, strength-testing hammers, or good old fashioned force of will, that the change will come! That the right person will come along will win the prize, and lead us to VICTORY!
But not even an NBA player can make that shot.
A simple three pointer, and not even someone who plays basketball for a living, who likely played basketball for all their life, can make that shot.
... So what to do?
Well, a revolution needs a team.
So, we band together. Work together with many others. Lift spirits. Inspire hope. And, much more importantly than hope... Inspire action. We tell everyone that a better world is possible. Yes, yes, we'll all fight and bicker and even go so far as to hurt one another over what that better world will look like, we're still sentient. Par for the course for any intelligent species!
But the biggest point is that a better world is possible. There is more to the world than this twisted carnival.
So we can't win a rigged game. Well then, ignore the game! Who needs it? And while we're at it... We don't need the Teddy Bears either! They're just symbols for the powers that be! So, why not go directly to the ringmasters of the whole operation and demand changes? And if they refuse to make those changes, then we get rid of them! Death isn't required, but they don't have to be in charge! And we can decide, when we get there, who should be in charge, or even if ANYONE should be in charge. Same applies to the rules, the laws, even the system itself. Maybe we want a carnival where all the games are fair, or maybe we can say "screw the carnival, let's make a library". Maybe we can just leave nothing there and let everyone do as they please.
The point is, no matter what we decide, we need to get to that point.
Where we're able to make something... New.
Not just for our own sake, but for the sakes of our families, friends, descendants, enemies, and the people who we will never bother to know.
We saw a post, that mocked those who waited for “the Glorious Revolution”. Not because of the idea of the revolution itself, of course. They were an anarchist, like we are. It was more the idea that the revolution is going to be some naturally occurring event, like the Christian Rapture. They suggested to work on what you can do, the little things. We would expand that from soup kitchens, although a very good cause, to things like organizing and spreading the word of whatever ideology you prefer. We're not sure how they would feel about this post, or if they’ll ever see it, but at the very least we can agree on one thing.
The "Glorious Revolution" is not going to fall out of the sky.
It is something we have to work together... To create.
- Sincerely, The Hatter
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This was a choice...
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loverhymeswith · 2 years
Note
Can I please request "Being cute cannot save you from everything." with Rick Flag? Thank you!
You Can Leave Your Hat On | Rick Flag x F!Reader
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Summary: Strip poker with the Colonel.
Warnings: Drinking, nudity, allusions to smut
Word count: 2,226 words
A/N: Thank you to the amazing @a-reader-and-a-writer, not only for the prompt above, but for your whole idea around Rick and strip poker after we spoke the other night. Also, I know almost nothing at all about poker, so thank you for contributing your knowledge and some of the lines. I couldn't have done this without you, so this is dedicated to you, Vee! <3
Joel Taglist: @weallhaveadestiny @a-reader-and-a-writer @11thstreetvigilante @skvatnavle @christinasyellowflowers @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @fairchildflag @bewitchedignition @lavenderluna10
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“I’m not doing it,” you tell Rick resolutely before knocking back another shot of tequila and cringing at the bitter aftertaste.
The mission was a colossal disaster, which increasingly seems to be the case of late. No one died - a fact that you for one are taking as a win – but thanks to a series of stupid mistakes, the team’s cover was compromised, and the target fled. Waller is going to be pissed, to say the least.
“You do know you’re s’posed to do whatever I tell ya?” Rick smirks across at you and grabs the bottle for himself. “I could pull rank.”
“Really?” You arch an eyebrow. He hasn’t pulled rank once since you joined the task force. A fact that hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone on the squad, not even Boomer. “Surely I’ve earned a free pass?" You gesture around the room, referring, of course, to the not-entirely-accidental misunderstanding that saw the two of you being left behind while the rest of the squad were safely on their way back to Belle Reve.
When Rick’s eyes simply narrow in response, you bat your lashes and grin. He knows full well that you make a fair point. He wasn’t exactly devasted about the last-minute change of plans that forced him into sharing the last room at the motel with you.
He huffs out a sigh at your attempt to sway him. "Being cute cannot save you from everything, darlin’.”
“Whatever you say, Colonel. I’m still not doing it.”
The pair of you have been bickering for the last hour about who will be presenting the debriefing report to Waller when you finally make it back to Louisiana. Given the resounding failure of the mission, it’s a task that neither of you are keen to take ownership of.
“Waller has a soft spot for you,” he insists, pouring out two more generous shots. “She’ll go easy on you.”
“Get real, Rick,” you snort loudly. “Waller doesn’t have a soft spot for anyone – or anything, for that matter. At least she takes you more seriously than me. Just. That’s why you should do it.”
He shakes his head. “Darlin’, I am one mistake away from havin’ my ass handed to me. Don’t you wanna do me this tiny little favour?” It’s his turn to ramp up the charm, that devilishly handsome face cracking into a disarming smile.
“You can dial down the charm, Flag,” you wag your finger at him. “That’s not gonna work on me.”
His broad shoulders slump, defeated. “Someone’s gotta do the damn debrief.”
He’s right. The sooner you get the decision over and done with, the sooner you can enjoy this rare amount of down time. You glance around the room for inspiration, until your eyes land on a pack of playing cards lying forgotten on one of the bedside tables. A sudden burst of excitement fills your chest. “What about a wager?”
Rick eyes you suspiciously. “What did you have in mind?”
You push back your chair and move to grab the pack, placing it on the small wooden table between the two of you. “How about a card game? Loser does the presentation.”
He considers this for a moment, his eyes darting between you and the cards. “What can you play?”
You bite your lip, pretending to think about it. “I mean, I play poker some?”
Rick leans back in his seat, a smile tugging at his lips. “Alright. Poker it is.”
“Great.” You pick up your shot glass and clink it against his before the pair of you knock back the vile liquid in unison. Ignoring the flutter in your chest as you watch Rick’s face scrunch up in distaste, you push the deck towards him, indicating that he should shuffle and deal.
His thick fingers make surprisingly short work of the task and as he eyes you over his hand, a mischievous sparkle appears in his hazel gaze. “What do you say we make this a little more interestin’?”
Now it’s your turn to eye him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“I was thinkin’… strip poker?”
You quickly temper down the rush of excitement that floods your veins at his suggestion. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Rick.” You throw him your best attempt at an uncertain look.
“C’mon, darlin’.” He grins. “Could be fun?”
Yes, you think. It certainly could be.
“Though you do have an unfair advantage.” He gestures towards your person. In addition to the same t-shirt, watch, tac pants, belt, underwear and boots that Rick is currently wearing, you also have on your bra and a jacket.
Shrugging off the outer later, you rise to your feet. “I’m sure we can fix that.”
You’ve already noticed an eclectic mix of items left behind in the motel room, so you’re confident you can find an additional item of clothing for Rick to wear. Sure enough, after a couple of moments of rooting through the drawers and cupboards, you produce a worn, old leather cowboy hat. It’s perfect.
When Rick sees you returning with the headgear in hand, he pulls a face. “No way. I ain’t puttin’ that thing on.”
Ignoring his protests, you place it on his head firmly. “It’s either the hat, or you’re one item short. Besides,” you step back to scrutinise him. “I think it kind of suits you.”
From under the large brim, Rick pouts. But he doesn’t remove the hat. If your phone hadn’t been damaged during the earlier getaway you would absolutely have snapped a photo. Not that it matters; you’ll never be able to get the image out of your head.
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Several shots and hands later, it becomes evident that the Colonel does not have nearly as good a poker face as he so clearly thought when he raised the stakes. Either that, or the tequila is to blame. Because while you are down a pair of boots and your watch, Rick has already lost the same items, plus his belt and most recently, his shirt. Of course, he’d wanted to remove the hat first, but after your insistence that he leave it on - repeatedly assuring him that it looks good - he relented.
“Kinda get the feelin’ you might have been under playin’ your abilities, darlin’,” he grumbles, throwing his shirt onto the bed.
“I said I played ‘some’. I didn’t specify how much.” You smile sweetly, trying and failing to keep your eyes on his face rather than the solid expanse of tanned muscled chest. His half naked body is right in your eyeline and while it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, the liquor has loosened your inhibitions. “You’re the one who was so keen to make this strip poker.”
As you lay down yet another full house, Rick pours himself another shot, mumbling something that sounds a lot like “devious” under his breath. You bite back a smirk.
In the interest of keeping the game going a while longer, you lose the next hand on purpose. Rick leans back in his seat, eyes zeroing in on you with laser focus as you skip the belt and strip out of your own t-shirt instead. His raised brow is the only sign he is surprised by your bold manoeuvre, but you don’t fail to notice the way his gaze subtly trails across your chest, the swell of you breasts just visible over the cups of your bra.
“You alright there, Flag?” you smirk.
Choosing not to answer, he takes another shot instead, leaving you to deal.
When Rick has been staring at his cards intently for a few minutes, you cross your arms. “Want to fold, Colonel?” Truthfully, it doesn’t matter what cards he holds. You know full well that this hand will see Rick being forced to lose his pants. The initial wager over the briefing seems insignificant in comparison to the possibility of seeing your commanding officer naked and you are thrilled about it.
“Fuck it, I got nothin',” he grumbles, throwing his cards face-down onto the table.
You smile smugly as you flip over your own cards.
It’s your turn to sit back and watch with a thumping heart as Rick stands and unfastens the buttons and zipper of his tac pants, before sliding them off over his thick tanned thighs. You press your own legs together, fighting to ignore the heat that flares at your centre at the sight of so much bare flesh, not to mention the considerable bulge concealed by his form fitting underwear. It’s no small mercy when he finally returns to his seat.
You reach for the bottle and pour yourself another shot. For courage, you tell yourself. It’s not that you’re worried about losing. What’s really getting you hot and bothered is thinking about what’s going to happen when you win.
From over the rim of your shot glass, you catch Rick staring at you again. “What?” you demand, as he begins dealing the next hand.
He frowns, surveying your face with thinly veiled suspicion. “You’re hustlin’ me, aren’t ya?”
“Would I?” You flutter your lashes again, although it’s fairly obvious to the both of you that the ruse is over. There’s no denying the fact that you are wiping the floor with him. Any thoughts about going easy on him have long since been burned away by the desire to discover just what exactly he’s hiding under all that tac gear. And you are so close to finding out.
He shakes his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. You try not to focus on his tattoos, or the way his biceps flex as he leans forwards. “C’mon. Enlighten me. How’s a girl like you become such a pro at poker? You got some secret life I should know about?”
“You mean more secret than Task Force X?”
“Fair point,” he concedes, rolling his eyes. “But y’know what I mean.”
You shrug, running a finger along an indent in the wooden table in your best attempt to appear innocent. “My uncle was semi-pro. Taught me everything he knows.”
Rick slams his hand down on the table. “Fuckin’ knew it.” He shakes his head, still grinning despite the outrage. “Knew somethin’ fishy was goin’ on. I never lose at poker.”
You can’t help but scoff at the comment. “Who the hell were you playing against? Blackguard? I hate to break it to you Flag, but you suck. I can read your face like a book. Anyone would think you wanted to lose...”
For the second time this evening, Rick doesn’t answer you. Instead, he throws down his next hand with a resigned expression.
“Another two-pair?” You give him a sympathetic smile as you prepare to turn over your own cards. “Don’t think I’m going easy on you now. Everything is still fair game.” You lay down your cards on the table with a triumphant flourish and watch as Rick reads them. A royal flush. “It’s a shame,” you add sombrely. “I really, really like the hat.”
Despite your fighting talk, the mischievous glimmer returns to his eyes and a new kind of tension fills the room. “Trust me darlin’, nothin’ about this is fair.”
Rick stands up again, that same disarming smile from earlier spreading across his handsome face. It takes a moment for you to fully register what’s happening, but your eyes quickly widen, and your mouth hangs open when his hands don’t reach for the hat, but for the waistband of his underwear instead.
“Rick-” you gasp, but it’s too late, he’s already bending down, stripping.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” He asks as he straightens again, shooting you a heated gaze. “Don’t like what you see?”
You shake your head, temporarily lost for words even as you find yourself rising out of your chair, not entirely of your own accord. Trying and failing to keep your eyes on his face, rather than what lies below his waist, you freeze as he rounds the table and approaches you.
Rick, now entirely naked except for the cowboy hat, slips his hands around your own bare waist and pulls you firmly against his hard body. Your hands fly to his chest, steadying yourself against the scorching wall of muscle. Before either of you can come up with another quip, or before you can question just what he’s intending to do, his mouth is crashing against yours, devouring you with a hungry kiss.
When he pulls away, he’s looking at you in that same, silent, searching way that he does out in the field. The subtle assessment, hazel eyes flickering over your body, making sure you’re ok without either of you having to voice your concerns aloud. And just like out in the field, you give him the briefest hint of a nod. All good here, Colonel.
Rick kisses you again, starting to guide you away from the table and backwards towards the bed. When he finally reaches up to remove the hat, you stop him with your hand around his arm. "I don’t think so, Colonel. We never finished the game. The hat stays on.” He cocks an eyebrow, but you continue. “Besides, we still haven’t decided on who has to do the briefing."
“Maybe we need a rematch,” he murmurs with the hint of a smirk. “Different game, though.”
“What did you have in mind?”
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msookyspooky · 2 years
Text
  Sequels Suck
Part 18
word count: 3,268
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Stu stared at you as you screamed at them both. Registering what you were saying before it just...Slipped out. "Wait...Ray's dead?" 
Billy closed his eyes and released a frustrated sigh through his nose as you stared at Stu. Your eyes darted between both of them repeatedly.
"...Yes. You did it." You mumbled.
Stu shook his head right when Billy opened his mouth to give a lie. They both looked at eachother, Billy glaring at Stu before Stu shrugged.
Your jaw dropped as you stared at them both. "What the hell?...W-What are you-" You swallowed hard, voice rising. "Are you trying to tell me you didn't stab Randy not even 30 minutes ago?!" 
Stu shoved his hands up. "YN. Does it look like we just got done killing someone?" 
Billy whipped his head at Stu with a death glare. "Yeah, just blow the whole plan and let her know everything you absolute fucking moron." 
"Man, come on! Look at her! If we don't figure this out, she's gonna die and it's not gonna be from us." 
Stu saw your eyes darting around as your mind was whirling. Billy loosened his grip on you, turning to glare at him as you simply stood there. "It's called the element of surprise, nutsack. I could have had this covered. I swear to god, I don't know why I'm still fucking around with you as a partner in this!" 
Stu glared back. "Uuh, cause I'm the one doing most of the heavy lifting here. You didn't kill that security guard two weeks ago; I did." 
Billy gritted his teeth. "Yeah? Well that's because it's the only thing you're good for-" 
"Stop!" You snapped at them both, gripping either side of your head. "I've had it! Stop with the fucking mind games!" You looked back up and glared at Billy. " Billy. I saw you." 
Billy stopped glaring at Stu, turning his gaze back to you with genuine confusion in his narrowed eyes. "...What?" 
"I said, I saw you. Okay, I saw your freakin eyes. Everything about your eyes! Dark, hooded, deep set eyes that there is no mistaking were yours!...I looked right at you when you fucking stabbed me!" You held up your arm.
He stared at you. Unable to hide the confusion in his eyes no matter how good of a poker face he had perfected. Stu looked at Billy with just as much confusion. Wondering if it was possible Billy was betraying him and doing something behind his back.
Stu folded his arms and licked his lips to speak. His brows were furrowed in confusion as he mumbled. "Okay...When did this happen again?" 
"...30 to 45 minutes ago. Something like that." You mumbled back. Eyeing them both.
Stu gave a humorless smirk and shook his head. "There's no way. We have been here for like an hour." 
You gave your own humorless smirk. "Oh and I'm supposed to just take your word for it?"
"Well-" 
"Enough, Stu." Billy warned.
Stu scoffed at him. "Billy, if we can get clues, we can take this little shit down beforehand...It's not like we have anything else to go on. Just that some poser is wearing our mask, stealing our idea, and now he's trying to steal our kill." 
Billy slid his hand down his face, completely stepping away from you as you stood there next to the wall. Too confused to even think of running away. 
Billy kicked at the ground and slammed the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Fuck!..." He rolled his lips before looking back at you to make a decision. A moment of silence passed before it finally came out. "...Alright, fine. It wasn't us." 
You huffed with a bitter chuckle. "Ooh yeah, because your word is even better than his." 
"I'm not lying, YN." He gave you a serious stare and a no nonsense tone. Your face dropped as you eyed them both.
You shook your head, clearly still thinking this was a giant elaborate trick. "...You're both fucked in the head." 
Stu shrugged. "Yeah, that's true. But so is someone else here. At least you know us...We need to find out who this other one is. Fast." Stu was more serious than he had been in awhile. 
In all honesty, this was the first time he had talked to you without insults or threats in two years...He didn't know how to feel about that. Especially seeing you. Seeing how pretty you still were in his eyes. Maybe even hotter. He wished they could have gotten farther with you earlier. It was his biggest fantasy. Hell, him and Billy even thought of it together on the offhand times they fooled around. The idea of you trying to kill yourself before he could had him absolutely agitated. But knowing someone else did this? He wanted to punch a hole in a wall. He wanted you dead but he also wanted this copycat dead too.
You blinked, staring at them in a new light as the last week played out in your head. "Oh my God...That's why you called without the voice box. That's why you sent Stu to talk to me at the party. That's why you pulled the stunt you did today. They're not threats, they're you digging to find out-" You shook your head. "No, there's no way! Who else would want me and Randy dead but you two?!" 
Stu shrugged dramatically. "I mean...Randy wasn't really on our list. I mean sure, if he got in the way or it caused you some emotional trauma then fine. But you've been our only target, Sweetcheeks. We only searched for him in hopes of finding you and it worked." 
You looked to Billy for confirmation. You saw him biting his inner cheek with a strained look on his face. He didn't answer. Clearly pissed that his whole secretive plan was being thrown out the window. 
You mumbled. "Maureen Evans...Phil Stevens...Cici Baker. Sound familiar? They are all just hashed up victims ' names from Woodsboro." 
Billy rolled his eyes into the back of his head and finally spoke again. "YN, use your brain. Why would we waste our time redoing kills we already had?" 
You opened and closed your mouth, unsure what to say as Stu felt his blood boil and he kicked a stray rock on the ground. "Shit, man! This guy is seriously trying to copy us! That is so weak...Whoever this kid is, he's getting gutted like a fish." 
"...So...You're telling me...You both haven't made a single kill. Is that what you're telling me? You're trying to fucking tell me that...There is someone else after me on top of you two?!" 
Billy raised his brows mockingly. "Wow. Look how intelligent she is." 
Stu smirked but eyed you. Leaning against the wall over top of you to stare you down. "So...We know he's unoriginal. We know he's after you. What else?" 
You shook your head up at him. "I don't know! It's the same generic threats you two give over the phone!" 
Billy scoffed at that. "There's something." 
You looked away and bit your lip. Thinking. "...They knew I was at the theater the first day I auditioned. But then again, you two were there today." 
"Yeah, you were so mesmerizing up there babe. Totally banging in that dress too." Stu mumbled with a smirk. "But today was the first time we saw you perform...So, that narrows it down to whoever is in your geeky drama club." 
Your face twisted into a soft glare at that. You sighed and listed off names. "Murphy and Louis from Delta Lambda Zeta...Mickey...Derek-" 
"It's Derek." Billy instantly said.
"Definitely." Stu agreed.
You narrowed your eyes at them. "What? What the hell makes you think it's Derek?! He's been nothing but sweet to me this whole time-" 
"Yeah, that's a dead give away." Billy huffed with a smirk. 
"...What? A guy can't be nice to me?" 
 "Nooooo, guys don't work that way, Sweetcheeks." 
"Look just cause you two never gave a fuck about me without an ulterior motive doesn't mean he doesn't!" 
Stu shook his head with anger rising in him. Glaring down at you. " Jesus man, you still think we didn't give a shit about you? Are you fucking kidding me?" 
"Yeah, well not enough considering you're trying to kill me now." 
Billy clicked his tongue and tilted his head. "Well whose fault's that, YN?" 
You gave him an annoyed look at using your words to him a few days ago against you. "I saved your fucking life, Loomis." 
"No, you RUINED my fucking life. With the dumbass excuse you didn't want me to die...Bullshit." Billy growled out. 
 You all three glared before you threw up your hands.
"Whatever. I'm not rehashing something with you both that I know isn't my fault...Besides, It's NOT Derek." 
"Pft, please. He just came onto you this strong within two weeks? He's not your type, Sweetcheeks." 
"...What do you mean by that?" 
Billy added. "That he is a med student, preppy, nice boy next door every girl wants to bring home to mommy and daddy...You actually think he wants anything to do with you?" 
Stu saw the hurt in your eyes at that. Stu grimaced at the tone in your voice. He wanted to laugh but...For some reason, this wasn't as satisfying as he imagined. Hearing the hurt made him feel...Conflicted. 
"FUCK YOU." 
Billy instantly showed his knife. "YN, I can still kill you right here and right now and be done with all of this." 
You had a moment of fear flash through your eyes before you steadied a glare his way. "O-oh yeah? Well...Do it and you'll never know who the other killer is." 
He leveled the knife at you. "Won't matter if you're dead." 
"Yes, it will...You really want to let someone steal your idea, your costume, your kills and try to kill me without revenge? Guess what? If they find my body; he'll take the credit for killing the final girl. Not you." 
Billy glared at you. "...I fucking hate you. You are dying soon. Mark my words on that." 
Stu watched you both glaring at each other, Billy's knife dangerously near your throat. A part of him was for it, another part of him felt off...Maybe because it wasn't the right time? He didn't want to kill you just yet. It was too fun seeing you scared and playing this cat and mouse game. Truth be told, for two years...This was all he had. Once you're dead...Then what? 
He didn't dare voice it aloud to Billy. He couldn't think on it for long as he suddenly heard voices calling your name.
"...Uh, Billy-" 
Billy didn't hear Stu as you sneered at him. "Then fucking do it. I don't care what you say, I saw you in that mask...This is all just a dumb trick!" 
"Billy-" 
Stu heard the men's voices getting louder. Anxiety twisted his stomach.
 "No, because if it was me; I would've finished the job." 
"Billy! We have a problem, man-" 
"Yeah, cause you did such a good job earlier...Face it Billy-" Your eyes darted to the sound of your name being called and Billy finally noticed. His face fell as you smirked at him.
"-You don't have the leverage you think you do." 
Billy glared daggers at you, readying his knife to plunge it as you shrank against the wall. "Bitch!" Stu jerked at Billy's shoulder before he could make the kill. "Man, come on! You wanna get caught?!-" 
Both of them whipped their heads up in time to see two detectives at the corner of the building arriving at the scene. Richards and Andrews instantly saw the knife and relinquished their guns from their sides. "FREEZE!" 
Billy bolted first with Stu hot on his heels as a gunshot was heard behind them. Stu stumbled rounding the corner of the building as they ran. He didn't see Billy for a moment before he got jerked in between two buildings and into a side door. They both huffed flat against a wall as they heard both Detectives yelling and running by. 
A moment of silence went by in the dark room as they waited. They heard footsteps walk by, talking before returning where you were. 
"Holy shit…" Stu muttered, leaning his head against the wall behind him as he realized they were inside a storage room. 
Billy listened a moment before pushing off the wall. He scowled over at Stu with malice in his eyes. "So...They saw our faces, YN is still alive and you blabbered the big secret." 
Stu opened his mouth and gave a nervous chuckle. "Uh, it's uh...It's not that bad-" 
Without warning, Stu released a pain filled gasp as Billy lifted his shirt and yanked the chain on his belly button piercing in a fit of rage. It came off in his hand as Stu doubled over.
"FFFFUUUU-" Billy just clamped his hand over Stu's mouth as Stu groaned in pain. He knew he was probably bleeding from that.
Billy hissed in his ear low so no one outside the door could hear. "We lay low. We get her ass. We know wherever she is, the copycat will be nearby. We get them both and go on our merry way...Got it?" 
Stu barely nodded with a muffled whimper as Billy shoved him away. Stu stared at him, debating if it was worth it to punch him in the mouth and have both of them in a fist fight...It wouldn't be the first time. He decided against it, just huffing and giving Billy a death glare as he walked deeper into the room.
"That was uncalled for, dickhead." Stu mumbled and followed him as Billy flipped him off.
——————————————————————
You sat in the back of the private police car on the way to the hospital. Staring out the window while Andrews lectured you the entire ride.
"What the hell were you thinking?! You don't go anywhere without us! We were assigned to protect you. Do you know the bullshit you would put us through knowing we couldn't?! That we failed at our job?! I have a daughter a little younger than you and if she pulled this stunt-" He gripped his steering wheel and let out a jagged breath as Richards joined in.
"Why? Why didn't you just come get us!?" 
You rolled your head to crack your neck, tiredly looking at the roof of the car. "Because if I did, I would have never found them…" 
Richards turned to you. "What did you think you were going to accomplish?" 
"Killing them. Or at least one." 
Both men's eyes widened at that as they spared a glance. Richards raised a brow. "You do realize we're cops, correct?" 
"Yeah and? You both shot at a murderer but if I stabbed one that's a crime?" 
"We are the law. You aren't." Andrews sternly gave. 
"Well that's what's wrong with our system then...These fucking monsters mutilated my friends, okay?! They are not some innocent bystander but yet if I gave them a quick merciful death; I'D go to prison. As if the world is going to miss two murderers that should be on death row anyways. That's even worse! I kill them; I go to prison for life. You kill them as cops; you walk free. The judge gives them the death penalty; no one cares. But if I got revenge for 4 people in my life they murdered plus them trying to kill me; I get locked behind bars...Completely fucked." 
Richards and Andrews let you rant. Richards cleared his throat. "Considering everything you've been through...I'm going to say this is off the record and pretend you didn't just admit to attempted murder...I agree with you but that is our system. It's why you need to let us handle this." 
You felt your eyes sting and you looked back out the window. "I don't care. They're gonna kill me anyways. I almost wanted them too." 
Richards turned completely around to look at you through the cage. "YN-" 
"I'm not suicidal so don't tell the doctor I want to end my life because I don't! I want to end THIS...I thought that maybe confronting them would have them end me or I could end them….I just." Your voice quivered in your throat. "I can't see my closest friends dying left and right. If they killed me, they would spare them..." 
Richards gave Andrews a look and Andrews sighed heavily as he drove. "Kid...That's not the answer. It's admirable you put yourself on the line but killing you won't stop this...Do you think your family or Dewey or Randy would be okay with that?" 
"I don't even know if Randy's in a hospital bed or the morgue." You cracked.
"But if he is in a bed fighting for his life...Do you really want him to hear you got yourself killed?" 
You felt a stray tear roll down your cheek. Andrews saw it through his mirror. His lip twisted into a small frown before he looked back at the road. "Sorry for yelling at you. My youngest is just a year or two behind you. She's so eager for college and I'm worried sick...The idea of losing you is no different than losing her. It's a father's worst nightmare." 
Richards turned to look at you in his seat. "You gotta promise us you'll never do this again, alright?" 
You closed your eyes to swallow down your tears and nodded. "Okay." 
Richards nodded back. "Good. We're going to the hospital...Finally. I'd say you're fine with how much time has gone by but it still needs to be looked at. Then, the precinct and then your dorm. Hopefully we'll reach the safe house before midnight, at this rate." 
"What do we have to go to the precinct for?" 
"To give a report. We all three know those little pricks faces. They aren't getting far...We're going to make sure every cop in the county knows too." 
Andrews added. "Hopefully, the Chief will agree to a campus curfew...Do you know their full names?" 
You debated. You wanted to tell them it was Billy Loomis and Stu Macher. It was on the tip of your tongue...But you knew it would sound nuts. You also knew it was no use. It's not like they were listed under their real names anywhere. And their looks had changed so much that old photos wouldn't be that relevant.
"No...Just Tim and James. I followed them to the building the call came from." 
You knew they were lying. You saw Billy's eyes. Your eyes locked and you knew it was him. No doubts in your mind. Remembering him glaring at you while holding you against the building just affirmed it even more. 
And yet…
Why would they kill victims with names they already killed? What's the point of rehashing Woodsboro? How could they be so casual beside a building after running away and being shot at from the van? No sweat, no blood, not out of breath, not even any sign of adrenaline at all. 
"Well, regardless of how it happened...We got these bastards. They aren't getting far now." Richards smirked but you stayed silent. You didn't know what was going to happen but it was going to happen soon and violently.
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spencersawkward · 3 years
Note
omg I’m so excited you’re on here and taking requests!! do you think you could do something like baby Spence losing his virginity to a close friend & it’s like adorable, goofy, fluffy smut bc he cannot get over the fact that he’s actually having sex with someone
I’VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-- TURN IT UP!!!
on a serious note, i'm so glad you asked for this one bc i really wanna add a scene like this in the fic i'm working on rn. i'm v excited.
summary: when the secret of Spencer's virginity gets accidentally spilled in front of the whole team, reader goes to check on him.
word count: 5.6k
relationship: Fem!Reader/Spencer Reid
content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fluff.
masterlist
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hanging out with the team is easily the best part of the week. after spending days in Arizona with our focus entirely on the most recent case, my mind is practically ready to snap. I feel like I've been running on fumes, and when Penelope suggested we take the evening to hit our favorite bar, I was practically already out the door.
so now I'm sandwiched between JJ and Emily as we throw back our first shots of the night. my skin is already flushed with the elation of laughter, the pleasant thrum of conversation that surrounds us.
"that's bitter." JJ makes a face when she slams the empty glass on the table. I screw up my nose.
"why did we pick vodka?" I hate vodka.
"it gets the job done." Emily laughs. I shudder at the aftertaste that sits on my tongue.
Morgan wanders over, Pen on his arm while she totes a brightly colored pink alcohol. they're flirting as usual, but she pauses in her witticisms to grab my arm.
"we're playing truth or shot in that booth over there." she says to me, then gets the attention of the other two women. I let out a disbelieving laugh.
"truth or shot? like truth or dare but without the dare?"
"Reid, is that you?" Morgan says sarcastically. I slug him in the arm with a pout.
"be nice." but I'm giggling. he loops his arm through mine and we head back to the table, Penelope already starting a new conversation with JJ and Prentiss as they follow. Spencer is sitting in the booth with an Arnold Palmer, sipping from the straw like it's his job. I slide into the spot next to him.
"hi, you." I smile. "I haven't seen you at all tonight."
he holds up his glass. "I don't really drink."
"that's fine," I wave it off. "I just meant I wanted to hang out with you."
"oh." he smiles a little. "sorry."
"no big deal. you're here now." I shrug and turn to Pen as she calls my name.
"I'm gonna order a bottle. that okay?" she points to the bar with a mischievous smile. glancing once at Spencer and his slightly awkward position between Morgan and me, I make a snap decision.
"you know what? I think I'll just have a lemonade."
"you sure? Jayge said you spent the whole plane ride back talking about getting wasted--" Penelope's words cause a blush to spread over my face. I cut her off.
"I'm sure. thanks, Penny."
she nods. "of course, sweet cheeks."
I focus back on Reid, who is looking at me gratefully. he would never say it out loud, but I know he feels a little out-of-place sometimes. it's hard enough for him to come out with us to bars; the least I can do is be a sober friend. I open my mouth to start a conversation about an article I read the other day when Prentiss speaks.
"okay, so... who's ready?" her voice, always so certain, carries over the table. all of us make enthusiastic noises of assent, and she grins as Penelope returns with an armful of glasses. Derek gets up to grab the actual alcohol, and then when we're all settled in, the game begins.
"the rules are simple: you tell the truth, or you drink!" the tech analyst explains. the stakes for Spencer and me are lower, but that doesn't really matter. I'm excited to hear the team divulge their secrets.
"I'll start." Prentiss doesn't even hesitate before she looks at Morgan. "Derek, are you still sleeping with that one woman from sex crimes?"
Morgan raises his eyebrows at the question, irises flitting between Emily and the rim of his drink. there's a slight smirk on his face; he knows what a player he is and he's okay with flaunting it.
"Ally? no." he sighs. "things didn't end well between us."
"what? why?" I ask, eyes widening before I look around at everyone. "who is this woman?"
"cool your jets, sparky." Morgan teases me. "only one question per round."
"I'll tell you later." Prentiss raises her drink in my direction and winks.
"uh, no no." Morgan attempts to stop her, but JJ interrupts him.
"speaking of things not ending well," she says loudly. "Pen, why did you and Sam break up?"
"well," Penelope sticks her tongue between her teeth as she thinks it over with a devilish smile. her lips are a ruby red tonight, bright against her pale skin and big eyes. "to be completely honest, he just wasn't... doin' it for me. you know?"
"like--?" Emily glances down at her lap. Pen nods quickly and I snicker. JJ looks awestruck.
"I thought it was going so well."
"it was, but..." Penelope seems to genuinely think this over before she speaks. "if it's right, it just clicks. and it never clicked with Sam."
"profound." I compliment, high-fiving the high-energy blonde. we giggle before she turns to me with a glint in her eye.
"oh, do I have a plan for you," she smirks. "tell me, Y/N: if you had to sleep with one person on our team, who would it be?"
"women included?" I clarify, my cheeks suddenly on fire. how come everyone got easy questions except for me? I'm really just biding time.
"of course." she nudges my shoulder. I mull this over for a minute. I could say the truth, but I don't think that would be the right thing to do. however ironic that is. given the situation, I do something which I have never been good at and which I don't enjoy doing: I lie.
"although all of you are catches," I preface. "I think I would probably pick Emily."
Prentiss almost chokes on her own spit as her head snaps to see my face.
"me?" she asks.
"low-pressure fun." I shrug, the stress of the moment rolling off my shoulders with the ensuing laughter of my team members. Spencer takes a sip of his drink and peeks at me from his spot before I focus my attention to JJ.
we go on like this for a while, our original plan of "truth or drink" really just turning into a game of "truth and drink." as our laughter gets progressively louder, our questions and answers get progressively more provocative. we get into risky territory towards the fourth round, and I can practically feel Spencer's discomfort radiating off of him. thank god everyone has been taking it easier on him with their questions.
that is, until Morgan hits about five shots and decides to throw him to the wolves.
"so, Reid," he asks. there's no malice in his tone and I'm sure he's not meaning to embarrass the boy genius, but the question makes me wince anyways. "have we made any progress on the virginity front?"
it's like a fucking pall over the table. Reid goes rigid in his spot, and JJ's protective eyes dart between him and Morgan. Penelope's jaw drops.
"wait, Reid, you're a--?" her voice is tender, not judgmental, but Spencer's cheeks turn pink and he looks at Derek with a hurt expression.
"not cool." he says, body shifting in my direction. his eyes communicate everything; without a word, I know what he wants. I scoot out of the booth, letting him slip by me to walk outside.
truly, I'm speechless. we all stare at his lanky frame push through the door, but nobody talks until at least fifteen seconds pass.
"what the hell was that, Morgan?" JJ asks.
"I thought everyone knew--" he throws his hands up. "I swear I wouldn't have said anything if--"
"why would everyone know that?" I feel myself get angry for Spencer's sake. "that's an incredibly personal thing, especially to him."
"that wasn't you, my love." Penelope's voice is soft, sobered by the incident that just occurred. the playful air at the table is officially ruined, and we keep glancing at the doorway like Reid will come back in and everything will be fine. he doesn't.
"I'm gonna go apologize." Morgan starts to get up, seemingly beginning to realize the weight of his words. it's one thing to ask about Reid's sex life in general; it's another to point out specifically the entire absence of it. Spencer doesn't seem to be bothered by most things, but this is different. my heart hurts.
we watch Morgan go, the women all looking at each other with worried expressions.
"I feel bad." Penelope says.
"y'know, Spence never told me that." JJ observes.
"he really trusts Morgan." Prentiss says what we're all thinking. Morgan has always been like a big brother to him, and being embarrassed in front of your co-workers like that can't be a pleasant feeling.
we sit in a relative silence for about five minutes until Morgan walks back into the bar. he pulls out his wallet and pays for the drinks, then walks over to us.
"I'm gonna go for a walk. do you need me to call you all cabs?" he asks. those dramatic brows are drawn low over his face, emphasizing his regret. I look between my friends and clear my throat.
"it's okay. I only had one shot about an hour and a half ago. I can drive everyone home."
"okay," Morgan sighs, his head turning briefly to the door before focusing back on us. "drive safe, ladies."
and then he's gone.
"you guys ready?" I start to shrug my jacket on. they all nod and we get ready to go.
...
sitting in my apartment later that night, my head is swimming. even though it's none of my business what happens in Spencer's sex life, I wish I could tell him that it's okay. nobody cares at all if he's a virgin or not. but I know it's still embarrassing.
I hate that I lied earlier tonight, too. I wanted to say Spencer's name when they asked who I wanted, because I meant it. we're close, and I will always love him as a friend. but I've also always wanted more.
nobody, not even any of the other BAU women, know about my crush. I didn't want it to get in the way, or for it to come out and ruin my friendship with Reid. he doesn't like me like that, and that's fine, but what's not fine is not having him as my friend.
he was the first person I really connected with when I came here, and I feel a little protective over him, too.
once the clock hits eleven, I consider calling. he’s definitely not asleep yet. Spencer is a night owl. normally at this time he'd be curled up with a huge book, reading impossibly fast.
when he picks up on the third ring, the air leaves my lungs.
"Y/N?" he asks, more surprised than anything else.
"hey, Spence--" I hesitate, suddenly not sure what to say. sorry Morgan told everyone you're a fucking virgin? “do you wanna come over?"
maybe if I see him face-to-face, I'll be able to collect my thoughts better. the words hang in the air, festering over the line until I'm just about to take them back, before he replies.
"y-yeah. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
my hands are shaking at my side when I open the door for the tall genius. he's still wearing his outfit from earlier, hair slicked back like normal. I've settled for my usual sweatpants and t-shirt winning combo. it's not like he cares.
"hey." I smile, trying to read his micro expressions. there are two possible outcomes here, knowing him: either he's going to be totally, completely over it, or he'll be able to write a War-and-Peace-length book on why he's upset.
"hi." he gives a wan smile and I let him into my apartment, closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch.
"I missed this place." he says absently, looking around at the mess of decor and case files. I snort as I recall the last time he was here. he wanted to borrow a book that I had, and we ended up watching an entire docu-series about homing pigeons. it was surprisingly interesting; mostly because his commentary is both informative and funny.
"it missed you." I anthropomorphize my living space, but the phrase hangs heavy. I'm worried about him. I'm always worried about Spencer. he turns to look at me, opening his mouth to say something. I brush past him and walk into the kitchen. "coffee?"
"sure." he follows me like a lost puppy, leaning against the counter while I pull out two mugs and get to work.
"hey," I pause for a moment to look him in the eyes. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry-- about what happened... tonight."
"oh, that?" he scoffs, waves it off unconvincingly. "it's fine."
I raise my brows the slightest bit, never breaking eye contact. he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to talk about it. he cracks easily.
"it's just embarrassing, you know?" he says, staring out my kitchen window to alleviate his own nerves. I gesture for him to follow me back into the living room and I sit down criss-cross applesauce on the couch. he mirrors me, kicking off those cute black Converse.
"I don't think the fact itself is embarrassing, but I totally get why it feels that way. he shouldn't have said anything." I nod.
"like, that's personal. a-and--" he hesitates a moment, gesticulating wildly now. "and it's not like he's got any right! at least I don't go around with so many girls that I forget their names."
the thought of Reid sleeping with that many women is a little bit funny, but it also makes my stomach twist with jealousy.
"did he apologize?"
"yeah, he did. and he was drunk, I know." he rolls his eyes. "I'm overreacting."
"no, really, you're not." without thinking, I scoot closer to him and place my hand over his, which is sitting on his knee. I remember that Spencer is usually pretty averse to touch, but when I move it back to my lap, he seems a little disappointed. I wonder if he gets lonely.
"is it weird?" the question sounds raw, like he's mustering a lot to hear my response. I shake my head immediately.
"well, for one, Spence, I would never judge anyone based on their sex life, period." I chuckle. "and two, no way! if you aren't into having sex at this point in your life-- or ever-- that's totally your choice and you're entitled to it."
his eyes meet mine, pools of honeyed hazel that swim with a slightly amber shade. his face is so pretty, it's sometimes unbelievable to me that he doesn't get more action. bone structure that would make a sculpture envious.
"that's the thing," he licks his lips nervously before averting his gaze again. "I am interested-- I just don't-- well, I don't--"
"don't have someone to do it with?" I suggest with a slight smile. he nods, then clarifies.
"girls don't really seem to be interested in me."
I let out a laugh, unable to contain myself. his head jerks up to frown in confusion. I’m quick to amend myself.
"Spence, that's not true at all. you're such a catch! you're sweet and funny and way smarter than anyone I know. not to mention that you're adorable." I compliment, letting some of the thoughts I've been keeping to myself bubble to the surface. "any girl would be beyond lucky to be with you, sexually or not." Spencer blushes at my words, but the squirming in his spot tells me that it makes him feel warm inside. he smiles a little.
"you think?" it's genuine. he appreciates being praised, and it makes my heart flutter when he gives me that expression like I've made his night.
"I know." more of what I want to say rolls around my mind, unsure of whether or not I should admit it. but I think that right now, it'll only serve to make him feel better. "actually, I should tell you something."
"what?" he's curious now.
"when we were at the bar and Penelope asked who I'd be with... on the team... I lied."
"okay." he nods, somehow not connecting the dots. I guess it doesn't matter if they've got enormous IQs; boys are still clueless.
"I was gonna say you." the truth presses from the inside out, lifting a weight off my chest now that it's out there. even if he doesn't return that feeling, I'm suddenly glad that I told him.
"me?" he gestures to his narrow chest. I nod.
"yeah. I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable or embarrass you in front of our friends." I explain. he breaks into a grin.
"thanks." like I've given him something. I feel myself smiling as well, and then we're just looking at each other. tension that neither of us is willing to break. as much as I'd like to take him right here right now, he hasn't said anything about actually having sex or even about being attracted to me. for all I know, he could be completely indifferent.
"listen, Spence--"
"would you be willing to--" we speak at the same time, both of us stopping and laughing awkwardly.
"sorry, you go first." I offer, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
"would you want to... um..." he scratches the back of his neck before his eyes meet mine. "try it?"
"sex?" I raise my eyebrows. he nods. I try to find the right response. that’s more assertive than I expected. my pulse is fast, daring me to tell the truth. "I mean-- yes, I would love to-- but are you sure you want it to be with me, Spence? what about a girl that you like?"
"you are a girl that I like." he says this like it's matter-of-fact, like it's obvious. my heart stops in my chest before it starts to hammer.
"really?" a smile makes its way onto my face.
"I thought you knew."
"no." I laugh. my chest is full of sunlight.
"well, you are."
there's a brief silence where I try to get myself back on track. he likes me, too.
"are you sure you want to do this?" I glance at the space between our bodies, which has grown steadily smaller over the course of our conversation. Spencer is watching my every move with an intensity that tells me he's nervous.
"yes." he's unwavering.
"okay, well, you've kissed girls, right?" I inch closer. he nods.
"one."
"oh, Spencer," I sigh contentedly. "I have so much to teach you."
right after I say this, Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. it's only then that I notice his hand covering his lap, the erection that's forming beneath his pants. my eyes flick up to his hungrily.
"sorry." he apologizes.
"don't be." our faces are inches apart and he's practically holding his breath. "I'm gonna kiss you. is that okay?"
"yes." he replies immediately. I place my hands gently on the side of his face, admiring the softness and sharpness of his jaw when I pull him to me, kissing him with a suppressed desire. his mouth is soft against mine, a little anxious to move. after a moment, he starts to relax.
his lips part and I deepen our contact, tilting my head and keeping it mostly mild at first. I don't want to shove my tongue down his throat. our knees are touching and his hand hesitantly finds my waist, the other going to run through my hair. I sigh into him, his fingertips a new sensation that I adore.
Spencer begins to give in a bit more to himself, asserting himself in the kiss and slipping his tongue over my bottom lip. I almost laugh at how quickly he gets the hang of it. he reads my body language effortlessly, not even skipping a beat when I climb into his lap and lace my arms around his neck.
"is this okay?" I pull away momentarily. he nods.
"you're so pretty." an unrelated response, but appreciated nonetheless. I laugh and peck his nose.
"thanks." and then we're back to making out, his hands resting on the small of my back. it's nice. I could stay like this forever, just pressed against Spencer while my fingers thread through his soft hair. he's cautious with me, and it's innocent.
I can feel his boner, can feel from the eagerness of his kisses that he's trying not to bring up the fact that he's literally just throbbing in his pants right now. in order to give him a little of what he wants, I start to rock my hips against his.
Spencer whimpers into my mouth. I stop and look down at him.
"do you want me to stop?"
"no, god, no— never stop." he's mindless in his reply, already grabbing my hips greedily and trying to regain that friction. I shake my head with a chuckle, then resume my actions. he starts to rut up against me, groaning into our embrace while his hands get more adventurous.
I withdraw, breaking the kiss to straighten up. he doesn't stop the microscopic pushes of his hips. I bite back a smile, enjoying the friction, too.
"do you wanna take my clothes off, Spence?" I ask softly.
"y-yes." he replies, gingerly taking the hem of my top and beginning to lift it over my head. when he places it on the couch beside me, his eyes immediately fall to my bra. slender fingers run up my bare waist, his watch glinting in the candlelight. when he doesn't immediately reach to unclasp my bra, I grab his wrist and guide it to the clasps myself. he moves with a surprising ease, unsnapping the thing and grazing over my skin as he slides the straps down my shoulders. I can tell that he’s shaking a tad, but it doesn’t hinder him.
the second that he's discarded the lingerie, he looks up at me with moony eyes.
"can I... kiss you?" he looks at my bare chest. "here?"
"of course, Spence." I nod. he presses his lips to the space between my ribs, drags them up to the valley between my breasts. lingers, then attaches himself to one of my nipples. I sigh, throwing my head back at the way he moves intuitively, sucking and running his tongue over the peak. he squeezes the other breast, plays with the nipple and starts to acquaint himself with the curves of my body.
the whole time, he's straining against my core, rutting helplessly in pleasure. it feels heavenly, with that sweet face of his so devoted to making me feel good, that I nearly stray from the purpose of the experience.
"Spencer..." I breathe. he moans at the sound of his name, then looks up at me from his place sucking on my tits. his teeth graze of my skin and I buck into his lap, causing him to groan appreciatively. my fingers tangle in his soft hair.
"Y/N," he pulls away from my chest, his lips making a soft popping sound. I gaze down at him, a bit lost in the fantasies running through my head. he's a natural. "can we, um-- like, expedite this process a little?"
"expedite the process?” I repeat back to him, giggling at his formality.
"what?" his voice goes up an octave, but he's smiling. "you know what I mean."
"I really do." I lean down, pressing my thumb into his jaw and angling his face up to mine to kiss. while his hands curiously move over my body, I start to push down the waistband of my sweatpants. I break contact just for a moment to peel them off, and he releases a quiet whine. it's cute.
"come back." he says softly, watching as I slide the bottoms down my legs, leaving me in my panties.
"I'm back." I peck his cheek, climb into his lap again. "can we take off your clothes, too?"
"mhmm." he nods. his lips part when my fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a torturous slowness. I can feel his eyes on my face the whole time.
"what?" I chuckle, peeking up at him for a moment before I pull his shirt open and run my palms up his chest, over his shoulders. he nearly shudders at the sheer touch.
"I just can't believe this is actually happening." he smiles in that way of his, like he's suppressing the depth of his emotions, with his brows slightly raised. I take the opportunity to enjoy the sight of him before me, his rapidly rising and falling chest, the smoothness of his skin.
"honestly?" I start to unbutton his pants, and he jerks up into my hand, blushing once he realizes the earnestness of his actions. I smirk encouragingly. "me, neither."
before I pull down his boxers, my eyes flick to his. "is this still okay?"
"Y/N," he groans. "if you don't do something, I'm gonna cum too early." he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment when my hand moves over his clothed erection, like he's holding on. "please."
"sorry." I release him from the confines. it hits his stomach and he waits for my reaction, as if he's afraid that I'll change my mind right now. but I'm definitely not going to. "holy fuck, Spencer."
"what?" he panics slightly, sitting up more. "is it not enough?"
"not enou--" I stutter, almost laugh. "no, it's plenty. I had no idea..."
"oh." he hides the pleased smile on his face, blush spreading over his pretty throat. in the interest of "expediting the process," I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and gently pump him.
Spencer's stomach tenses and he grabs onto the cushion of the couch with a tight fist, sighing.
"mmm..." he doesn't try to word his emotions, but I know. and I like that I'm making him feel this way, sharing this experience. Spencer and I are such close friends, I never thought we'd actually have sex. my assumption was that I'd watch him grow into himself, find a nice girl and treat her like a queen.
but here I am, spitting into my hand before jerking him off to prepare for what’s next. he’s throbbing, sounds coming from his throat.
"I'm gonna sit on it, okay?" I lean down to whisper in his ear. he touches my waist, my neck, kisses a random spot on my chest in the waves of pleasure that I'm giving him.
"o-okay." he mumbles, waiting for me to actually do it. and there's a moment of tense anticipation between both of us, when I sit up and pull my panties to the side. Spencer watches like I'm the only thing in the world, saving the memory of my body on top of his for later.
I run the head of his cock along my entrance, soaking him in the wetness between my thighs. I didn't realize how turned on I'd already gotten, and he lets out a quiet whine when he feels the evidence of how much I want him.
our eyes lock when I sink down. it's a new feeling for him, and the shape of his member as it stretches my walls causes me to bite my lip to withhold moaning too loudly. he whimpers, neck tensing and fingertips digging into my hips.
"o-oh." he sucks in a breath as I reach the halfway point. he's so big, I have to go slow in order not to overwhelm myself. but it feels good, too. like... unbelievably good. I grip onto his shoulders and my head falls forward into his shoulder.
"Spencer, holy shit." I moan.
"does it feel nice?" he asks, concerned for my own pleasure. I feel my chest flutter at the thoughtfulness of the boy wonder even when he's in the midst of losing his virginity, and I lower myself onto the rest of him.
"mhmm," I rest for a moment. "how do you feel?"
"like--" his breath hitches when I begin to rock back and forth on him. "like I've been missing out."
I can't help the giggle that slips past my lips, but then it quickly turns into a longing moan when he starts to thrust up into me like a helpless thing. Spencer is brilliant, but his brain cells go out the window when he throws his head back and begs me to move more.
I nod, raising and lowering myself until we reach a special pace. it's not fast or slow, just the two of us trying to stay in the moment while we hold on tightly to each other. I can feel the cool metal of his watch when he splays his hand out over my spine, the warmth of his breath while he pants against my shoulder.
he hits my g-spot over and over. my moans are torn from my throat by the burning of my lungs. it's like I can't breathe because I'm so focused on chasing the orgasm building in my stomach. and Spencer... I can tell he's almost finished.
the erratic nature of his jerking body tells me.
"I'm gonna cum..." he moans into my neck. "do- do you want me to pull out?"
"no." I arch my back and throw myself into the friction of our bodies. he stares up at me while I ride him, the merciless grinding of my hips because I just can't help myself. "oh my god, Spencer."
he notices how close I am and, in a surprisingly deft move, slides two fingers over my pussy to find my clit. the ensuing noise from me tells him that he's found it, and he begins to rub in quick circles. it's rough and hard, but that's exactly what I need right now.
"cum for me, Spence." I breathe. his free hand grips onto my thigh and pulls me over him, his own words unintelligible within the sounds of absolute pleasure.
"please." he begs for something I don't know, spills his seed inside of my pussy and holds onto me like I'm an anchor to this world while he peers into the next. the feeling of him spreading through my stomach, along with the reckless movements of his limbs and the way he looks at me while he rides out his orgasm, sends me over the edge.
"oh my fuck!" I collapse, grabbing his shoulders tightly and rolling myself down while he removes his fingers from my body. it's jarring, the intensity, like my normal functions can't respond correctly. all I can process is the tightening of my stomach, the pleasure between my legs, vision going slightly fuzzy at the edges. he moans when my cunt flutters around him, the muscles trying desperately to hold him here with me forever. I take deep breaths and slow down, my forehead dropping again while I start to remember my own name.
neither of us speaks. I think I'm still too in shock about what just happened, but in the best way. he keeps running his hands over my skin, then wraps his arms around my torso so that I'm pulled against his chest. I smile, kissing his ear before I finally break the silence.
"hi."
"hi." he's got a satisfied tone.
"do you need anything? water?" I ask, exhausted but realizing that this is still new for Spencer and it's my job to make sure he's as comfortable as possible. he nuzzles his nose into my clavicle and squeezes me tighter.
"stay here with me." there's a slight edge to his words. he's afraid of me leaving. I snuggle down, perfectly happy to remain. heat radiates from his skin, and I like the way it feels.
"of course."
we linger in each other’s arms, both of us coming back into the real world and holding on in an attempt to soften the blow. I just had sex with Spencer.
"thank you." he whispers into my hair.
"for what?" the smile on my face is lazy.
"for doing this."
"well, I really wanted to." I laugh. "so, I guess, thank you, too."
"you're quite welcome." his response is cheerful and then we're both laughing, the sound rumbling from his chest. "can we do it again at some point?"
"I would be happy to." I beam. the contented sigh that leaves his lips, followed by a slight sinking of our bodies down the couch in collective exhaustion, fills me with a joy that's quiet but obvious.
“I’ll last longer next time, I promise.” he says. I can practically hear the blush in his cheeks.
“you did amazing, Spence. don’t worry about it.” I press a few stray kisses to him.
I'll need to go clean up, soon, but it can wait a few more minutes. this is my favorite place on earth.
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bangtangalicious · 3 years
Text
death valley (m) | part 8
summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize
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pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader
genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au
wordcount: 9.0k
warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important. 
a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo. 
part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | series navi | masterlist |
F L A S H F O R W A R D--
Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.
You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?
The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth. 
You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.
Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties. 
His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.
His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.
Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment. 
You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you. 
Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe. 
Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.
Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?
Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.
What exactly you were playing, you were unsure. 
“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?” 
You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh. 
“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.
“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.
“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.
“With who Y/n?”
You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead. 
“You. I was with you”
F L A S H B A C K--
The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape. 
Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already. 
It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?
Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.
There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer. 
Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes. 
Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more. 
To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.
You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all. 
When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.
Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead. 
Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him. 
But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him. 
And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him. 
Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago. 
Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.
He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should. 
He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?
He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.
Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now” 
-
Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.
Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?
Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...
Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals. 
“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”
Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.
“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.
“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?
“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing. 
You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”
“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”
Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”
“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”
Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”
Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”
You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.
“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”
Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?
“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.
“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.
“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.
The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left. 
Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”
You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.
“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”
You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.
You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”
Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his. 
He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.
You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts. 
“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.
He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down. 
“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after. 
His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.
“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”
He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.
"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”
He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out. 
“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”
You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.
“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.
“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you. 
“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”
His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”
“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”
You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease. 
“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”
“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.
“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.
He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.
“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly. 
You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady. 
"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook” 
You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”
-
Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.
“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.
“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.
“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.
“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”
Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”
Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”
-
You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you. 
You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.
“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk” 
You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”
Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”
You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”
He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”
The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.
“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.” 
No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”
You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.
“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”
“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”
"No” You blurted. 
“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”
As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.
Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.
Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life. 
Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi. 
-
“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”
“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”
Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”
“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”
Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.
“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.
“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”
Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees. 
Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.
You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor. 
Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good. 
“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.
“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.
He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.
“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”
“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.
Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”
“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”
“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”
“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”
Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”
You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it. 
Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.
He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.
He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more. 
He slapped his palm  onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place. 
“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”
Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further. 
“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow. 
“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure. 
“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly. 
“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.
You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.  
“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers. 
You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.
On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.
-
Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious. 
Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.
“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.
“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger. 
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor. 
“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”
Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis. 
“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”
You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”
Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”
“Hold on!”
Too late. You pulled the trigger.
-
Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight. 
So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.
He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel. 
-
Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind. 
Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him. 
He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations. 
You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.
“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.
Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.
“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.
“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself. 
“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”
Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you. 
“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his. 
“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”
Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”
Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble. 
P R E S E N T  D A Y--
Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him. 
After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.
The question remained how and why. 
“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.
All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way
You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.
“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.
“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in. 
You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.
“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”
The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.
“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.
You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.
That watch. That’s his watch.
Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?” 
“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.
Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.
Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.
“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”
ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ
a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal? 
smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.
see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth! 
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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years
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Always With The Scissors
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Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader / Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: sloppy seconds, voyeurism, angst, objectification of women, slut shaming, dirty talk, cum play, pining!Dean Word Count: 2.9k  Created for: @spnkinkbingo​ - Objectification | @negans-lucille-tblr​ - Man Crush Monday: Sam and Dean / Two for Tuesdays: Smangst / Sinful Sunday: Sloppy Seconds  A/N: Super big congratulations of 7,000 followers!! You deserve every single one and many many more ❤️
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Dean has a very specific kink. He knows it makes him sound a little creepy... okay, a lot creepy – okay, he is actually a full-on creep – but he never cums harder than he does when he's inside a girl his little brother's just fucked. And it’s not that his brother has awesome taste in girls and Dean is just jealous and wants in on the fun too. It’s not even that he has a big kink for sloppy seconds. It had never appealed to him before they started playing this sick sort of game they’ve been playing since Sam decided he was over Jess enough to start sleeping around again (he knew Sam was nowhere near ready for another relationship).
Dean remembers eyeing up a petite little thing at the bar once and then noticing Sam checking her out not too long after. Ever the gracious big brother, and not creepily concerned with Sam’s sex life, Dean figured he’d bow out and let Sam take the swing at this one — but then Sam caught Dean looking at her too, and tried to back down to let Dean have at it. Dean couldn’t have that. So he suggested the ploy that got them where they are now, they play Rock Paper Scissors for the chance to shoot their shot; Dean always loses Rock Paper Scissors.
The part of the night they hadn’t anticipated was the girl they’d been ogling spotting them playing a game for the chance to fuck her, and suggesting that they don’t need to choose, they can just take turns. That had been the game changer.
Listening to Sam fuck her stupid through the wall of the motel room is seriously hot, and Dean has to fight to keep his hand out of his pants the whole time he sits waiting, hearing Sam grunt out filth that he never imagined he’d hear from his little brother’s mouth. And when Sam lopes back through the adjoining door between their rooms with sex ruffled hair and a smirk, with a quick aside of ‘She’s all yours’ before he ducks into the bathroom for a shower, Dean swears he feels his knees go weak.
Quick as he can, he makes his way into the ‘sex room’ as he decided to call it in his head, and found the girl laying in the centre of the bed, legs draped open, playing with the cum leaking out of her pussy. Dean has to grab himself through his jeans, scared he’ll come on the spot if he doesn’t cut himself off.
“You gonna fuck me or what, big boy?” The girl leers at him, and Dean strips down like he’s being timed and slots himself between her thighs and pushes home in one go. He finishes embarrassingly quickly, with Sam’s cum sloshing around his dick and leaking into his mouth where the girl had painted it on like lip gloss. He devours every drop.
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Dean catches Sam’s eye from across the bar and nods towards the girl he’s picked out as a target. It’s a college bar, so Sam does the approach, seeing as he's the one who looks like he could still fit in here. Dean drops himself in a chair and watches Sam work, proudly — he’s the one who taught the kind everything he knows after all. He watches as Sam charms her easily, gets her a drink, asks if she wants to come sit down and motions to the table Dean’s sitting at.
“Dean, this is Y/N,” Sam introduces her, smoothly pulling out a chair for her and pushing it back to the table — a true gentleman. “Y/N, this is my brother, Dean.”
“Hey there,” Y/N smiles at him easily, and Dean can tell they’ve picked someone up for a good time.
“Hey yourself, sweetheart,” Dean gives her a wink and leans in closer. “So, Sammy tell you how we’re hoping this night’s gonna go?”
“He did,” Y/N nods and shoots a smirk at Sam, who reciprocates, and Dean feels his guts churning. “Said the back seat of your car was real comfy too,” she grins mischievously.
“Sam even puts a blanket down most of the time, real class act,” Dean laughs, gulping down more of his drink.
“Wow,” Y/N is sarcastically amazed, “you fellas know how to treat a lady right,” she sounds bitter but Dean can tell she’s joking. She wouldn’t have followed Sam over here in the first place if she wasn’t.
“We try our best,” Sam grins at her charmingly, and Dean can see Y/N melt a little looking at his baby bro’s eyes — he can’t blame her.
Several drinks later, Y/N starts getting handsy with both of them, and Sam suggests they think about moving their little party of three outside. They show Y/N out to the car, Dean opens the back door with a flourish and she slides gracefully inside, glancing back out with a hungry look in her eyes. “So, who’s joining me?” she flutters her lashes seductively, like we need any convincing, Dean thinks to himself.
“Sammy,” Dean grunts, making a ‘come here’ motion with his hands and then holding one out flat and the other on top in a fist in preparation. Sam sidles over to Dean, gait smug, like he already knows he’s gonna win and get first crack at Y/N — which of course he is, because that’s how Dean likes it. He holds up his hands in a mirror of Dean’s, and eyes not leaving each others’ they both beat their fists against their palms. 1, 2, 3.
“Ooh,” Sam hisses in mock sympathy when they look down and see Sam’s ‘rock’ beats Dean’s ‘scissors’. “Always with the scissors, Dean,” Sam gives him a condescending pat on the shoulder, like he doesn’t know what Dean’s doing, and maybe he doesn’t, Dean thinks. Maybe Sam truly doesn’t realise how fucked up I am.
Dean turns to head back into the bar as Sam slides himself into the backseat next to Y/N, but he stops in his tracks when she calls out the window — “Sure you don’t wanna watch, handsome?” Dean freezes, the possibility of actually getting to see Sam fuck this girl, not just imagine it, is more intoxicating than the drinks he’s downed tonight. To actually see Sam, stripped and vulnerable, losing himself inside some cunt… Dean had never even considered that as a possibility before, but now that the thought is in his mind he needs it, craves it. He spins on his heel, looking back at Sam, inwardly praying that his little brother will be gracious enough to grant him this one thing.
“I don’t mind,” Sam smirks, eyes darting back to Y/N and raking down her body. “If she wants you to watch her get used like a little fucktoy, she can have that.” Dean is back by the car in a heartbeat. Sam pulls the back door shut as Y/N climbs on his lap and starts kissing him, while Dean checks around furtively and slides into the front.
Y/N moans start to fill the small space of the car’s interior as she grinds enthusiastically down onto Sam. Dean watches Sam run his hands down her back and up under the hem of her skirt.  He wishes Sam would take her skirt off so he could see Sam’s hands on her ass, see his  fingers tearing into the lace panties that Dean had gotten a glimpse of when she slid into the backseat earlier on. They pull apart and Y/N pushes Sam’s shirt up and over his head, messing up his hair, before she runs her fingers through it and holds on tight, earning a pleased groan from Sam. Dean catalogues that knowledge for later use – not that he thinks he’ll be in a position to test it out on Sam, but it will be a nice detail to add to his tragic imaginary Sam, the one that knows how sick he is and doesn’t care.
Sam’s hands sneak up the back of Y/N’s top and Dean watches as he removes her bra with practiced ease, and he nods to himself – respect. Sam must be feeling her up now because his arms have disappeared to her front and she’s letting out some pretty little whimpers and arching into his chest. Y/N pulls her top off, then reaches for Sam’s jeans, undoing the belt, button and zip quick as she can. Sam pushes her off him and she sprawls to the side, facing Dean now, and her eyes seek him out.
Her chest is heaving, her breasts shuddering with each rise and fall of her chest, and Dean spends a moment taking in her body, appreciating the curves, before he notices her hands have snuck beneath her skirt and she’s clearly touching herself while she watches him. Dean flushes, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans. “Enjoying the show?” she winks at him, and Dean nods wordlessly.
“Get back over here, and let’s give him a real show,” Sam grabs Y/N and drags her back onto his lap, still facing Dean. She straddles him and rubs herself over his crotch. Sam snakes his arms around her waist and pulls up the front of her skirt, so Dean can see Sam’s cock thrusting between her thighs, against the glistening satin and lace panties she’s wearing. Dean feels his dick leap in his jeans, and he reaches down to adjust himself again before he decides to just give in and let down his zip, pushing his hand inside his boxers to fist himself out of the material. “Wanna see me fuck her?” Sam grunts, eyes flicking up to catch Dean staring at their grinding hips.
Dean feels his cock leak across his fingers at Sam’s words. “Fuck yes,” he groans, stroking himself harder. “Fucking give it to ‘er Sammy.”
“Want me to give it to you sweetheart?” Sam breathes against Y/N’s neck, tucking her hair tenderly behind her ear and nipping at her earlobe. She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers, Sam’s way with words clearly affecting her. “Gonna be a good little slut and take my cock? Let me use you up and then hand you over to my brother to finish you off?”
“Fuck, Sam please, please, just use me,” she pulls her panties to the side and tries to get Sam to slip inside her but she can’t quite find the angle, and she whines, desperate and frustrated.
“Wow, for someone who just wants to be a set of holes you sure are needy,” Sam growls and gets his cock in the right place and pulls her down his shaft slowly. “Thought you told me inside you’d let me do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t put up a fuss?”
“Just fucking fuck me already, please Sam,” Y/N is begging, grinding down onto Sam’s cock like a whore.  
Sam finally stops teasing her and follows through on his promise to use her. One of his hands comes up to wrap around her throat while he uses his other arm to keep her body pressed close against his, and he punches his hips into her hard, without abandon. Dean nearly chokes every time he catches a glimpse of Sam’s cock, bare and shiny with her slick, before he pushes back into her. It’s better than he could have imagined, watching Sam actually rail into a pussy instead of just hearing it through some flimsy drywall. It’s much easier to picture what Sam would look like fucking into him now that he’s seeing this.
“She feel good Sammy?” Dean is horrified to hear how strained his voice is when he speaks. He sounds like a goddamn girl with how fucking breathy he is.
“Uh huh,” Sam fucks into her quicker, like Dean’s question has spurred him on. “So wet, can feel her soaking into my thighs,” he moans. Dean refuses to let out the whimper that’s trying to escape his throat. “Gonna be even wetter for you,” Sam continues, leering up at Dean through his lashes, chin looped over Y/N’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be all messy when I’m done with her. But you like ‘em like that dontcha? Like ‘em strung out and used up?”
“Fuck,” Dean does almost whimper.
“Oh god,” Y/N whines, dropping her hips down in earnest against every one of Sam’s thrusts, and she snakes a hand down her front to start rubbing over her clit.
“Oh you wanna cum, do you? Think you earned that yet?” Sam bites against Y/N’s neck and bats her hand away from her core. “I think you’re gonna have to do a bit more before you get to cum. Gotta let me cum in you first, huh? Then you’re gonna be a good little cocksleeve for my big brother to get off in, and then, maybe, if you’ve been a good girl, we’ll make you cum.”
“Fucking hell,” she moans heavily, dropping her head back onto Sam’s shoulder. “C’mon then fuck me, want your cum inside me, please,” she whines, voice piercing in the small space.
“Yeah, that’s what Dean wants too,” Sam smirks, but he’s not looking at Dean now, he’s got his eyes closed tight and his head buried against Y/N’s shoulder. Dean thanks fuck for that, because when he heard Sam say that he knows Dean wants him to cum inside Y/N, Dean thought he was going to die of embarrasment. Obviously he wanted that, and in the back of his mind he knew Sam must know that he likes fucking the girls second, but they’d never talked about it. What did Sam think about the fact that Dean got off on fucking his little brother’s cum back into whatever warm body they’d picked out that day? He must be okay with it because they keep doing it.
Dean’s existential crisis is cut short when he hears the tell tale gasp and cut off whine that means Sam is cumming, and he looks up just in time to catch the  pure fucking bliss on his little brother’s face. His eyes flick down to where Sam and Y/N are joined and he watches, mesmerised, as Sam pulls out, his cock laced with the white of his release.
“Open your mouth, bitch,” Sam grunts, and shoves Y/N off his lap and onto her hands and knees so she can suck the cum back off his cock. Dean’s breath catches in his throat, desperately hoping she doesn’t swallow.
When she pulls off of Sam with a wet sound her mouth stays open and Dean can see the cum slipping from her lips. He reaches over the seat impulsively and grabs her hair, yanking her towards him and slamming their mouths together. Dean sucks her tongue into his mouth like he wants to bite it off, and he can’t keep in the moan that bubbles up from his chest when he tastes the bitter edge of Sam’s spunk on his tongue.
“C’mere,” Dean grunts against Y/N’s lips, dragging her over the top of the seat. It’s not graceful, it’s not attractive or sexy, it’s born of the intense desperation Dean has to feel something hot and wet around his dick, and when he pushes into Y/N’s cunt he knows he’s not going to win any records for stamina tonight. She’s tight, but it’s an easy fuck because she’s so so wet. Dean can feel Sam’s cum squeezing out of her every time he fucks in, pushing the creamy liquid out around his dick and grinding it into his jeans. They’re going to be ruined but he doesn’t give a fuck because this feeling is always worth it.
Y/N’s head is buried in the crook of his neck and Dean’s forehead is smashed into her shoulder as they cling to each other. Dean jumps when he feels hands on his shoulders, because the fingers are facing the wrong way for them to be hers – they’re Sam’s. He leans across Dean to kiss Y/N roughly, then yanks her head back by her hair, holding her out in front of Dean so they can watch her tits bounce while Dean fucks into her mercilessly.
“What d’ya think Dean, do we let her cum?” Y/N whines at the words and Dean can hear Sam smirking. “You’re gonna cum anyways aren’t you, you fucking slut. Gonna squeeze his cock real good for me? That’ll make you a real fuckin’ whore won’t it, going home with two guys’ loads in that pussy, huh?”
Sam’s taunts are cruel and mocking and fucking hot and Dean has never had to listen to Sam’s dirty talk while he was actually fucking something and he can’t handle it. He stills inside Y/N, gasping as he pumps his release inside her, mixes it up with Sam’s. Y/N is shaking around him and Dean thinks she must have cum too but honestly he’s so far gone he can’t even tell.
When Y/N climbs back over the seat to find her clothes, Dean stays put, still trying to catch his breath. He hears Sam open the door and walk her out, back to the bar. He shakes himself from his reverie and rushes to tuck himself back into his boxers. His jeans feel sticky, and they probably are ruined but he still doesn’t care. It was absolutely worth it.
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Part Two. Jackbox Shenanigans
warnings: swearing word count: 2.6k (not including pictures) behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist
Y/n flinched awake, startled by the sounds traveling from the kitchen. Once again, the frosty air pricked her skin, trying to convince her to not move, to stay in bed under the warm blankets. Despite the feeling pulling her into her bed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, grabbing her phone from her nightstand. Texts from Karl flooded her screen and she replied as she took her comforter off her mattress and wrapped it around herself. She pattered to the source of the noise to find her roommate was making food.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" Naomi asked, eyes wide with concern as she looked at Y/n. "I dropped a pan."
Y/n, who was observing the world through one squinted eye, shook her head and she sat at the counter in the kitchen. "No, I should be awake anyway."
"You're usually awake much earlier. Late night?"
Y/n nodded. "George streamed and we all talked for a little after."
"Oh, yeah, I watched his stream this morning..." she started, eyes focused on the food in front of her but Y/n still caught the mischievous glint in her roommate's eyes.
"Of course you did," Y/n laughed through a yawn. "That's your lover."
Naomi rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you gave me his number he would be."
"He doesn't give it to many people. I just barely got it and I've been friends with him for a year. I'm pretty sure Karl doesn't even have it."
Naomi groaned, though Y/n knew it was a joke... for the most part. She got another text from Karl, and consulted Naomi for a second opinion.
"Should I post this?" Y/n asked, lazily holding up her phone with a picture on the screen. Naomi squinted as she looked back over her shoulder. "Karl keeps yelling at me too."
"Yeah! That's a cute outfit. Make sure to credit Karl or he'll yell at you for that as well."
"No chance I'm doing that."
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Incoming FaceTime... karol <3
Y/n hit accept and held the phone up to make a face at Karl. He mimicked the position. "Hello, sir."
"Hello, ma'am."
"What are you doing?" she asked him, walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her comforter dragging on the floor behind her as it continued to protect her from the cold.
Karl got distracted and started messing with something out of the camera view. "Um, trying to figure out what to do for my stream tonight. What about you?"
"I'm waiting for you to give me a fit check!" Y/n yelled. Karl quickly looked at the camera and smiled. He set his phone down on his desk and ran backward so his whole body was in frame. He posed awkwardly a few different ways before running back and resuming his position.
"Yes!" Y/n hyped with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Let's go, Karl! Karl with the old man sweater!!"
He giggled. "You're the one that told me to buy it."
"Because it's sick. Doesn't mean it didn't belong to an old man before you."
Karl pouted before his face lit up. "Guess what. I met a girl."
"Oh?" Y/n cooed. "Where? Do you have pictures? Is she cute?"
"She's Jimmy's new cameraman. Camerawoman. I don't have pictures, and yes. She's very cute." His cheeks turned red and Y/n smiled, flipping off the bathroom light and heading to her closet. She threw her comforter back on the bed and tried to pick out an outfit.
"Come on, bud, elaborate. What's her name? Have you asked her out yet?"
"You don’t get to know her name, I don’t want to jinx anything. Plus, you’ll just look ‘Mr Beast crew’ and find out anyway. Also, no, I haven’t. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her because I have not said a single word to her. I get so nervous when she's around I freeze up and just like... act weird. And then as soon as she's gone, Chris freaking roasts me so bad."
"Aw, I can teach you how to flirt if you want!"
"Yeah, okay," he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his words.
"What's with the attitude? I'm great at flirting."
"No, you're not. I watched Gogy's stream last night."
"What does that have anything to do with anything?"
"I heard the way you spoke to Dream."
"What?!"
"You have zero game, Y/n. Absolutely none. Zilch, if you will."
"Yeah, because I wasn't flirting with him?"
"Not successfully, at least."
"Karl, what?" Y/n laughed but she was so confused. "No part of me was trying to flirt with anyone in that stream."
"Oh, come on," Karl groaned. "Don't do this again. Don't pretend to not like a guy and then cry to me when you're wack ass attempts don't win him over."
"Karl," Y/n started, looking directly at him. "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't flirting with him. I do not like him."
"I'm just saying, you talk about him a lot. Like, you always panic when he interacts with your posts because you're scared he's going to DM you right after. And you gush about him a lot."
"I do not gush. I admire the hard work he puts into his videos but I talk the same about him as I do with George and Sapnap. The only difference is I'm friends with them and not Mr. Minecraft. He's intimidating, that doesn't mean I have a crush on him."
Karl stared for a moment, trying to read Y/n's expression to detect any lies. "You'd tell me if you did, right?"
"Karl, I tell you everything. I'd tell you if I murdered your family." They both laughed. "It's impossible to hide anything from you, you're my best friend."
"Okay, sweet, but please don't murder my family, just to be clear."
"I won't. I love your mom too much."
"Well, how was meeting Dream, then? Despite apparently not being in love with him?"
"It was cool. Terrifying because it felt very forced but the four of us hung out on the call after George ended his stream and he was much more relaxed."
"That's true. Aren't we all?"
"Not you! You're the exact same person on and off camera. Just a little ball of giggles."
Karl giggled which made them both laugh more. Suddenly, as if he completely forgot until that moment, Karl sat up quickly and yelled, "What am I going to do for the stream?"
Y/n shrugged. "See if anyone wants to play Jackbox. Chat always loves those and it's relatively easy to throw together last minute. You just need to find people that are free to play."
"Genius. Who should we invite?"
"We?"
"Yeah. It was your idea, you have to play."
"But, I've never played! And I barely know all your friends so I wouldn't get half the inside jokes. I'd be a boring addition."
"Please? They're your friends too! You just talked to Sapnap and George for four hours yesterday and George was the only one playing anything. That's friendship if I've ever seen it."
"But... others.... like literally everyone besides Sap and George...."
"Things like this are how you get to know them better. Besidessss, you're never boring."
"Fine, I'll play."
"YES!" he shouted. "Okay, who should we invite?"
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Y/n huffed and scooted her chair closer to her desk. She pulled up Discord and hovered over the voice chat everyone was in. An overwhelming number of voices chaotically spoke over each other as soon as she joined.
"Oh no," she mumbled.
"AYYEE!!" a voice yelled, the green bubble lighting around Quackity's name confirming her suspicions.
"Aye," she said back less enthusiastic. "Hi everyone."
"She's here!" George cheered.
Y/n could hear Sapnap huff. "Finally. Geesh."
"This isn't even your stream, calm down." Y/n's eyes scanned the names on the left to read who else was involved in tonight's games. She had suggested a few people to Karl but wasn't sure about the final list. Besides the boys who had already greeted her were BadBoyHalo and Dream.
"Hello, Bugsy! It's nice to meet you! I'm BadBoyHalo."
Y/n smiled widely at his voice. "Hi, BadBoyHalo! Nice to meet you too."
Her eyes slowly traveled to the last name on the list, which had yet to greet her. She wasn't bitter, but she was curious why he hadn't said anything yet. The boys hyped up him talking about her so much but she had yet to feel that energy from him. She picked at the bottom of her hoodie, eyes darting between the names as they lit up when someone spoke.
"Is Dream still AFK?" Sapnap asked.
"I think so," Bad replied.
Maybe that's the only reason he hadn't said anything. Y/n felt stupid for thinking it had anything to do with her.
"He's probably coding something or something like that," George teased.
"Haha nerdy ass man," Quackity cackled.
"Language."
"Don't you also code shit, George?" Sapnap called out. "You're probably helping him test something after this, huh? As Quackity said, nerdy ass man."
"You know what, Sapnap? I'm not sure I like your attitude all that much."
Y/n smiled. Despite feeling nervous, she was already having fun just listening to everyone talk. The real nerves would kick in when they were live in front of tens of thousands of people and she would have to be funny.
A message popped up in the general chat, notifying everyone that Karl was joining the voice call soon so they shouldn't say anything bad.
"Everyone say something weird," Quackity directed.
Discord dinged and Karl's name joined the list on the side. "AAAHHHH-!" he started yelling over everyone to let them know he was here in case they were saying anything bad. With his luck, they were going to say stuff anyway to mess with him.
"So, yeah, that's how I lost my virginity," Quackity said as if he just finished a story.
"To a prostitute?" Sapnap added quickly. "Wow, I never thought you... oh Karl!"
"Language!" Bad gasped.
"What the..." Karl laughed loudly. "What did I just join?"
"Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry," Quackity apologized, which was hard to make out since he was laughing so hard, surprised at what Sapnap added to his joke.
"Bad, you can't say language about a prostitute," Sapnap defended. "That's really rude of you. Maybe it's a little unconventional but they're just tryna make some money the best way they know how."
George laughed with Quackity as Bad sputtered. "I-I said language about what Quackity said!"
"What, virginity?" Karl asked innocently and Bad yelled again.
"Bad hates people who have had sex!" Y/n called, causing Quackity to laugh loudly.
"Bad! How could you?! That's so messed up!"
"Wait, guys, is everyone here?" Karl asked.
"Dream isn't. We don't know where he went."
Karl groaned and started typing something, presumably yelling at Dream to join.
"Let's goooo! We're popping off!" Quackity started saying, stalling. "We're popping off!" George joined him, becoming absolute fools to keep the chat entertained.
"Okay, he's here!" Karl said. "Everyone's here!"
"I'm here, I'm here, sorry. I was... yeah, sorry," Dream stuttered out.
"Welcome back, Dream!" Bad chirped.
"Hello!" he replied. Unexpectedly, his next greeting was directed at Y/n. "Hi, Bug."
Y/n instantly got shy for no discernable reason. She blamed it on his voice and its ability to manipulate emotions any way he wanted. That and she was getting attention from someone first. "Hi," she squeaked back, hoping the contrast of her icy hands would cool her face enough to focus on the game.
"Bugsy, you are adorable," Bad stated simply.
"Sapnap! What did you just send me?" George asked loudly, and just like that, the attention was off of her and she could breathe again.
"What?" Sapnap feigned innocence.
This was going to be a long game.
"Let's play!" Karl decided. "Should we warm up with some Quippy?"
Y/n focused intensely on her answers, silently hoping the others would find her funny.
"Oh my gosh," she mumbled as everyone else finished writing. "Y'all, I'm about to get Quiplashed so hard. Don't make fun of me."
"I seriously doubt it," Dream said. "You can't possibly be worse than George at this game."
"Shut up, we always-  it's like 3 am my time. I can't, like, think of things 'cause my brain isn't functioning."
"Yeah, that's why," Sapnap teased.
"Surreee," Dream said.
The first round wasn't too bad. Y/n was in 5th place but she got quite a few laughs so she didn't care too much about where she stood. She got a notification from Dream on Twitter as everyone laughed at one of Quackity's answers.
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Y/n looked back at her screen and saw the new prompt and answers. She read them quickly as everyone was laughing and with a few seconds left to choose, voted for the one on the left. It was funnier anyway.
She loosened up substantially after another round, and she knew it was mostly because Dream had reached out to her. Something about him comforted her and made her feel safe, which warmed her heart.
"Bugsy! What the hell, that's so messed up. You're so messed up," Quackity yelled, laughing at the answer on the screen. They were playing Survive the Internet and her comment got taken way out of context, just as the game intended.
"Oh my gosh!" Karl cackled loudly. "Bugsy, I didn't know you felt that way. Oh my gosh? They're just kids?? Bugsy out the gang?"
Y/n hid her face in her hands and laughed. "Noooo!! Wait I never knew- I didn't know I was ever in the gang?"
"She really said, 'infant children? slaughter them all'," Sapnap joked.
"You know, I think you'd get along really well with Technoblade," Dream added. "Though his specialty is orphans, as it appears."
"No, no, no, whoever wrote that heading is SO messed up!" Y/n defended, rereading the heading that made her comment look bad. She knew it was a game but all the attention on her was making her embarrassed. "Who would think to put that?"
"Everyone cancel Busgy!" Karl yelled.
"Karl, no! You're supposed to be my best friend!"
"I don't know how I feel about my best friend killing children..."
"Karl!!"
"Nooo," Bad protested softly. "I like Bugsy. Don't cancel her."
"Everyone vote!"
The article with Y/n's name turned out to be Dream's. "Dream! What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, causing him to wheeze loudly.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I wanted point."
The whole night ended up being like that. Y/n had a lot of fun and by the end, she felt a lot more comfortable with all of them. Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap were loud and very high energy while George and Bad were quieter. Dream was half and half, sometimes matching Quackity's volume and sometimes going a while without saying a word. Overall, Y/n had a lot of fun and hoped to let back in the gang in the future.
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A/N: WOOO PART TWOOO!! Hope you guys enjoyed this part! Also thank you so much for all the love on the first part!! I did not expect it to get as much attention as it did!!!!!
we clearly haven’t got to dream and yn being close yet bc they literally met the day before this but i added a small little dream/yn moment :] pls let me know how you liked this part!!!!!!!!!!!! 
taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan
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