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#If this blows up I'm not arguing with any of you fucking people
waynes-multiverse · 2 days
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Plastic Hearts – Part 25
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Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, a tinge of angst, FLUFF
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: I'm not sad... 🥲 Honestly, I don't have words beyond gratitude and cliché goodbyes, so let's end this journey together 🤍
<< 24 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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25. Dare
“Ugh, I can’t believe you convinced everyone to come out here,” Jo groans and raises her flat palm to her brows, shielding her eyes from the scalding desert sun. “What the fuck is wrong with Palm Springs, huh?”
“C’mon, we’ve always wanted to go to Joshua Tree together since we moved to LA. This is like the perfect time,” Y/N argues cheerfully and nudges her friend with her elbow. “Look! It’s so peaceful.”
“There’s a dead carcass over there. Looks like a symbol of my marriage,” Jo deadpans.
Y/N purses her lips before compelling another positive smile to her face. “We can get rid of that. The girls really needed this after the whole Crowley debacle.”
The group left straight after the network meeting in Dean’s office this morning, which didn’t go as planned, to say the least. While several executives were surely interested, Crowley and H-ELLTV put an abrupt end to it. Apparently, they sold their fucking souls by signing a contract with the devil. Crowley’s words still rang in her ears on repeat.
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, ladies, but H-ELLTV owns your characters, which means you can’t sell them to another network. You all signed a contract and made a deal. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, fucking asshole…” Jo huffs her agreement but then throws her friend a suspicious sideways look. “What’s up with you, though? Why are you so chipper and cheerful like a fucking Disney princess? I thought you of all people would be fucking depressed and devastated about the stupid show ending.”
Y/N shrugs. “I am. I’m just trying to make the best of our last weekend together. Can’t I be happy?”
“Fuck no.” Jo shakes her head. “Something’s up with you. Usually, when you’re like this, it’s overcompensation ‘cause you’ve fucked something up. If I were still married, I’d think you’ve fucked my husband all over again. So, what did you do?”
Y/N shrugs once more and keeps her eyes trained on the sprawling desert landscape in front of her. “Nothing.”
“Dean also was a bigger asshole than usual this morning. So, I’m asking again, what shit did you fuck up now?”
“Nothing, okay? Dean’s always an asshole,” Y/N deflects defensively. Although, even she has to admit – those were some spectacularly icy green eyes this morning. Not that he ever looked directly at her or spoke with her even once. She probably would’ve turned to stone if he did.
“Fine, don’t tell. God knows I don’t fucking care,” Jo says indifferently and joins the other women as they set up their tents on the campground.
Y/N lets out a small sigh as she stares at the bluest sky she’s ever seen while the hot desert sun beams down on her. She watches the girls for a while, her heart slightly cracking at the thought this might be the last time they all hang out together. This year has been the best one she’s ever had.
But then, her heart stings even more when she thinks about the one person who isn’t here, wondering what he’s doing right now. If anything, she owes it all to him.
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Dean nurses his beer with a sigh, his green eyes barely paying attention to the half-naked girl who’s winding herself up and down a silver pole in front of him. This used to bring him joy – day-drinking at a strip club and watching tits bounce. But now all he thinks about is how that girl looks nothing like Y/N. None of them do.
“Hey, son. Startin’ early today,” Bobby notes with a chuckle as he sits down next to him.
“Yeah, they canceled the show.” And while that’s certainly true, it’s not the reason why Dean’s sulking at a titty bar.
“Too damn bad. I loved the show!” Bobby tells him enthusiastically. “It was insane. Good insane. It had everything – comedy, drama, heartache, tits, violence, a fucking wedding? There’s something for everyone there.”
“Well, uh, thanks, Bobby. Really appreciate it,” Dean tells him politely. He likes the guy, but he’s not in the mood for chitchat. He’s barely in the mood for naked women, for crying out loud. This is a deep fucking depression.
There are only two promises he’s made to himself: One, he won’t slump like he did after his last divorce. There will be no excessive drinking, which leads to excessively pathetic crying, which leads to a myriad of bad choices out of sheer desperation. Remember that awful dating videotape he made? Yes, there will be no more of that. And then there’s of course two, no drugs – no matter how much he tells himself he wants or fucking needs them. A tiny dot of hope seems to be still dormant in his plastic heart, reminding him that she might come back, and he doesn’t want to risk disappointing her once she does.
Dean has worked fucking hard to be the best version he can be – a version she doesn’t seem to give a shit about. But even he has to admit: He likes himself a lot better now, so he refuses to turn back to old comforts, albeit it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.
“You guys interested in doing a floor show?”
Bobby’s words pull him from his reverie. Dean arches a brow at him, straightening a bit in his seat. “What? Here?”
Bobby rolls his eyes. “No, idjit. My wife Ellen has some stakes in a club on the Vegas Strip. She manages the hotel there, too. They’re looking for a new headliner. Just do the exact same show, night after night, 300 miles east. Vegas is where the money is. Headliners make at least 25 grand a week. You think that gym is big? We have to fill 1,100 seats.”
Dean stumps and blinks at the old man a bit baffled. “Well, uh… I’ll think about it. Talk to my partner, the girls…”
Bobby smiles and pats his shoulder as he gets up. “You do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Now, how about a lap dance? On the house. Can pick any girl that fancies your heartache. You ain’t foolin’ an old man like me.”
Dean chuckles. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks. Think I’m gonna head home and drink myself into a coma there.”
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“It’s getting dark soon. How much longer?” Jo’s brown eyes dart to Y/N as she drags her feet over a rocky path. The sun stings less than it did when they started their little hike, but her skin feels perfectly tanned by now and the water is running low.
“Uh, I think it’s supposed to be just up ahead that hill,” Y/N muses and swirls her head around the formation of rocks that all look the same, squinting her eyes into the distance.
Jo sighs, and her stare intensifies. “You’ve been saying that for over an hour. Are we lost?”
“Noooo…” Y/N doesn’t sound convincing and surely doesn’t fool Jo with her reply.
“Alright, gimme the map.”
“I don’t have the map. I gave it to Meg.”
Jo groans and rolls her eyes, throwing her arms up in exasperation.
“What? Meg’s the trail leader. Trail leader gets the map,” Y/N defends her faux pas with reason.
“Great! So we’re fucking lost in the desert,” the blonde huffs.
Y/N chuckles lightly, mostly out of uncomfortableness and panic she tries to hide behind it. “No, there’s a trail marker right over there,” she says, pointing to a pile of rocks. “That looks manmade.”
Jo quirks her brow. “You mean like that pile of rocks? Or that one over there?”
Y/N follows her friend’s gaze, only to realize that there are lots of piles of rock that all look too fucking similar. She purses her lips and scratches her head before resting her arms on her squared-off hips. “I think we’re lost.”
“Yeah.” With an exhaustive sigh, Jo plops down on another pile of rocks and watches as the orange sun dips behind the horizon, shadows of blue slowly crawling across the desert floor and swallowing the light.
Y/N clumsily lowers herself down next to the blonde. Her leg hurts like a bitch, and the desert sand that has wound its way into her cast itches a good deal. Her hands and arms hurt as well from clinging to her crutches all afternoon. Maybe Dean was right, and this was a bad idea, after all. Why does he always have to be fucking right about everything? How can one person be so annoying and frustrating all at once?
“Well, you finally get your wish,” Jo deadpans. “We’re gonna die together.”
“I’m sorry,” Y/N says ruefully and looks at the first stars appearing in the night sky. “Maybe the stars will guide us home.”
Jo just looks at her, unamused and unsurprised. “You’ve never been camping, have you?”
Y/N twitches her shoulders apologetically. “It was only supposed to be a three-mile moderate beginner’s trail to a beautiful vista. It’s what the guidebook said.”
Jo shakes her head and blows a raspberry, hugging her knees. “Joanna Wesson, 27, found dead near a random cluster of rocks that might have looked like a trail marker. She was best known for playing Beth Crowne on the soap opera Paradise Bay before trying to revive her career on an unsuccessful wrestling show. She is survived by her son, Sammy, and her bitter ex-husband Sam with his secretary Jessica.”
“Well, at least you get an obituary,” Y/N quips. “Mine would just read: Soap Star Found Dead Next to Unidentified Woman in National Park.”
Jo even snorts at that. “Well, I’m sure Dean would cut and edit an adorable video tribute with a bunch of B-roll about you at your funeral.”
“Yeah, maybe…” Y/N pensively licks her lips, her heart doing those painful twinges again whenever she thinks of him. “You know yet what you’re gonna do next?”
“No, I-… I think I wanna produce,” Jo announces with determination in her hazel eyes. “I don’t wanna ask permission. I’m so tired of it all. For once, I wanna boss people around and tell ‘em what to do. You know, you were right.”
Baffled, Y/N raises a brow. “About what?”
“Men,” Jo says simply and then spits with fire, “I fucking hate them all. The Crowleys and the Dicks and the Cases and the Sams and the Deans… They make the choices. They dictate the terms… I’m sick of it all. I just hate asking them for anything.”
“Dean’s not so bad,” Y/N says quietly but doesn’t look at Jo. Her heart stings for the millionth time. “I got that role for the Sondheim musical. They called this morning.”
Jo’s lips curve into a soft smile that reaches her eyes. “Congrats. I’m not surprised. You were really fucking good.”
Y/N’s heart flutters a little at the compliment. Tears begin to sting her eyes. She can’t remember the last time Jo was nice to her. “Thank you.”
“You don’t seem happy about it,” Jo notes attentively.
“No, I am,” Y/N manages to choke out, but the sniffling betrays her intentions.
“But?”
Y/N bobs her head, swallowing. “I think I’m ready to talk about it now.”
“Fucking finally,” Jo huffs and rubs her cold and goosebump-littered arms as the heat disappears, the nightly air bringing a fresh breeze.
“Dean told me he loves me,” Y/N confesses. “He’s in love with me.”
“Yeah, no shit. Kinda obvious,” Jo says without a twitch of surprise. “Don’t feel bad for not loving him back. That’s what they want… For us to feel bad about every single fucking thing.”
“That’s just it. I don’t think that’s how I feel,” Y/N replies and lets out a jittery sigh.
Jo’s head turns to her, eyeing her friend up and down. “And how do we feel about that? I can’t tell. It’s too dark to see your face.”
“I-, uh, I don’t exactly know,” Y/N says, which is partially true. She might know how she feels about the green-eyed director, but not how she feels about the situation overall.
Jo purses her lips and nods. “Alright, here’s a couple of options: happy, excited, scared, or… repulsed?”
“Well, uhm… scared,” Y/N admits slowly and gulps. “And excited… happy.”
Jo throws her arms up, shaking her head at the stars. “Jesus fuck! Then what the fuck are we doing here?! Is that why you dragged me all the way to the fucking desert? Because you’re running from your feelings?”
“Kinda. I thought the peaceful quiet and beautiful nature would bring me some much-needed clarity,” Y/N explains.
Jo lifts a brow but tries not to seem too annoyed. She’s accustomed to her friend’s theatrics, after all. “And? Did it?”
“The hike didn’t, but facing death kinda does,” Y/N jokes and begins to laugh a little, Jo soon joining her. When their laughter dies down and the desert sounds of chirping crickets and screeching eagles remain, Y/N exhales a shaky breath. “I’m in love with him, too. He makes me really fucking happy. But… I finally feel like I’m on the right track with my career. I am where I’m supposed to be, you know? I don’t wanna throw that away for a guy.”
“Who says you should?”
“I don’t know… Isn’t that how it goes? You did it,” Y/N argues.
Jo licks her lips and clicks her tongue. “Yeah, ‘cause I chose the wrong fucking guy. Sam made me give up everything I ever loved and told me what to love instead. If you pick the right guy, he won’t make you do that.”
“How do I know it’s the right guy, though?”
Jo smiles softly. “Look, I’m not Dean’s biggest fan, but he’s yours. You know that, right? He’d never hold you back. He adores the ground you walk on. Yes, he’s an asshole with so many fucking issues, and he’s goddamn annoying most of the time, but he’s always had your back, even when he pretended that he didn’t. The guy would probably sell every limb and his fucking soul to see you get everything you ever wanted, Y/N. He wouldn’t be a mistake. You know what would be a mistake? Not trying because you’re too scared of making one. Don’t be fucking stupid.”
Thoughtfully, Y/N nods in agreement and grabs her crutches, rising from her rocky seat. “I need to see him. We have to head back to the city.”
“Finally! Thank fucking God.” With a grunt, Jo jumps to her feet and helps Y/N to steady hers. “Maybe the girls made a fire bright enough, so we can find our way back.”
“Shit.”
“What? They have matches, don’t they? I’m sure these bitches can manage a simple fire, right?” Jo then notices Y/N’s hand curling around her bicep, her grip tightening. And then, Jo glances in the direction of Y/N’s eyes and sees the same damn thing. Her brown eyes widen.
“Mountain lion.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” the blonde hisses and holds on to her friend as well. Both women freeze on the spot. “What-, uh, what should we do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should throw a stick?”
“A stick?” Jo arches her brow. The big cat snarls and stalks a little closer, making the two women jump back. Their hearts are thumping in their throats at this point. “It’s not a fucking dog, Y/N. It won’t play fetch with you.”
“I know that. How about you come up with a better idea, then?” Y/N snaps through gritted teeth. The lion hisses again, causing the women to tremble down to their bones and hug each other tighter. “I think I should jump it.”
“Are you nuts? No!”
“Look, while it eats me, you can flee. I can’t run with my cast anyways. This is the best option,” Y/N insists, but Jo vehemently shakes her head.
“Fuck no! You’re not sacrificing yourself. We die together. You’re not leaving me behind,” Jo maintains. “I always knew my death would be your fault. Don’t ask me how, but I knew you’d get me killed somehow.”
The wild cat takes another step forward and lowers to the ground as if to get ready to jump its prey – them. But then a few tumbling rocks and breaking twigs draw its attention behind the women. Is there an even bigger cat here?
And suddenly, Meg leaps forward from above them with a loud howl and snarls at the cat, which hastily tucks its tail between its legs and flees down the hill into the dark night. Y/N and Jo expel a big breath of relief and a shaky laugh as they find Meg.
“Meg, what the fuck? Did you just scare away a mountain lion?” Y/N gapes at her friend in utter disbelief.
Meg only shrugs her shoulders. “I hate cats. What are you guys doing out here so long?”
“We got lost. Couldn’t find our way back to camp,” Y/N explains.
Meg furrows her brow and thumbs behind her. “It’s just over there. You guys have been hiking around the same hill for five hours.”
Jo shoots Y/N a small glare of annoyance and blows some loose strands of blonde hair out of her face. “Of course we did…” she mutters.
“We have to get back to LA!” Y/N declares eagerly, trying to climb the small rocky hill with her crutches, foregoing the more suitable pathway.
“Right now? It’s probably 3am when we get to Burbank. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” Jo says as she attempts to climb after her friend.
“No! I almost died! Twice… Dean needs to know how I feel before I get bit by a rattlesnake, too,” Y/N reiterates passionately.
“It’s probably for the best,” Meg chimes in. “We kinda forgot to pack food. I was about to hunt something for us when I ran into you guys. We have tons of drugs and booze, though.”
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Y/N’s knuckles thunder persistently on Dean’s door and conjure up a storm. She has jumped out of Ruby’s limo so fast, the girls are still scrambling out and flooding Dean’s front lawn one by one. They’re loud and obnoxious, but the ringing in her ears makes their chatter barely noticeable.
The lock clicks and the door opens. Dean stands in front of her with weary green eyes, heavy with sleep, tousled bed-head, and a furiously scrunched brow. He half yawns and half grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Once he feels clearer, minus the soft buzz of whiskey remnants in his bloodstream, he blinks at the young actress in front of him and then tilts his head at the circus show behind her.
God, between his punk rock daughter and this, his neighbors must really hate him.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you guys supposed to be camping in fucking Joshua Tree?” His voice is a gravelly bark. He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, especially when he just woke from a dream about her, but he’s not as masochistic as he used to be. He’s not a fan of torturing himself with the image of her any longer.
Y/N’s heart somersaults as soon as she sees him, even though his apprehension hurts a bit. “Look, I almost died tonight. We got lost in the desert and then a mountain lion almost fucking ate us.”
Dean licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah, I’m not fucking surprised. Told you Palm Springs is the better option. So, did anyone fucking die? What’s the head count?”
“No one died.”
“Huh. Then why the fuck are you here in the middle of the night, Y/N?” Dean bites, his brow creasing in anger. He can’t even fucking look at her for a second without his heart being on the brink of an explosion. Even saying her goddamn name hurts like needle pricks in an abused vein.
“I–” Y/N swallows thickly. Her drumming heart is stuck in her airway along with her words.
“She’s here to tell you she loves you!” Ruby hollers behind her before several girls tackle her and clasp her mouth shut.
Dean’s heart twists upon the sick joke, his frown deepening. But then he glances at Y/N and thinks he can spot the truth in her eyes. He thought that once before, though, and was terribly wrong.
Y/N gives a shrug of one shoulder with tears brimming in her eyes. A small smile forms on her lips. “What she said.”
Dean nods and drags a hand over his freckled face, feeling the tears well in his eyes, too. Fucking whiskey. Always renders him goddamn sentimental. “Look, uhm, you kinda gotta tell me this yourself. Otherwise, I won’t believe it, okay?”
Upon his request, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks him into his eyes. “I’m in fucking love with you.” As soon as the words are out, she starts crying and the tears fall down her cheeks. Meanwhile, Dean’s heart tumbles into free fall, and he’s sure not even a parachute can stop it. “I’ve never said that to anyone in my life. Is-, is it too late?”
Dean snorts and shakes his head, grinning brighter than the California sun on the longest day of the year. “Fuck no. Even if it had taken you thirty years, I still would’ve taken you back. That’s kinda how once-in-a-lifetime love works, sweetheart.”
“Okay. Sounds like a good movie,” Y/N jokes between her tears, her fingers tingling to touch him.
“Yeah, best one there is.”
His hands grab hold of her and pull her into his embrace. He claims her lips, Y/N eagerly parting her mouth as his tongue slips between. The kiss is rushed and fervent and perfectly desperate. They’re both so gone they can’t even hear the girls cheering and applauding them in the background.
“You’re gonna come inside?” Dean asks in a murmur against her lips, barely letting her breath.
“Uhm…”
“Hey, Lothario, you got space for us, too?” Cassie shouts with a wide smirk.
“Yeah, we’re fucking starving,” Ruby adds with an impatiently arched brow.
“We, uh, forgot to pack food,” Y/N explains with a chuckle.
Dean sighs and smiles knowingly. “Of course you did.” He then turns to the women waiting on his lawn. “Alright, get in. I’ll order some pizzas.”
The women then proceed to brush past the couple and filter into Dean’s house. Missouri pinches his cheeks, Ruby pats his head, Cassie fist-bumps him and sends Y/N a flirty wink, Meg tousles his hair, Charlie shrugs apologetically, and Jo offers an annoyed eye roll.
“I’m never gonna get rid of them, am I?” Dean looks down at her and tightens his jaw, even when a grin is visible.
“No, I’m afraid not. It’s like you’ve adopted twelve strays. One of which actually turned out to be your long-lost puppy. They’re gonna be here until you die and then eat your corpse,” Y/N quips.
“Funny.” Dean clicks his tongue, his dimples itching to form a grin.
“Oooo! Let’s call the guys!” he hears Ruby exclaim from inside his living room. “It’s a fucking wrap party at the boss’ house!”
“No! No party! Guys, c’mon!” Dean storms inside after them, leaving Y/N giggling on his doorstep.
“Let’s call Garth, Kevin, and Benny!” Donna suggests, ignoring his protests. It’s like they can’t fucking hear him.
“I’ll call my husband, too!” Bela adds and eagerly dials Cas’ number on his landline.
“Oh, right, Cas…” Dean mutters with an eye roll as he remembers the impromptu wedding. “No fucking Benny!”
Y/N joins his side and rubs his back in comfort as he watches his house sink into female doom. “You okay?”
The deep trenches in his brow flatten into soft valleys as his green eyes lock on her. He dips his head and pulls her to his lips, kissing her slow and reverently. “Better.” He smirks. “Just gonna have to sage the whole house tomorrow.”
That earns him a playful slap on his chest. He laughs and pulls her closer with an arm around her waist.
“Hey, uh, speaking of party…” Dean mumbles before he addresses the whole room, grabbing their attention with an authoritative clear of his throat. He’s still got it. “You guys wanna do shows in Vegas?”
“What?!”
Dean’s eyes find Y/N’s gaping face. He chuckles a little. “Yeah, uh, Bobby offered me a deal. There’s nothing in the network contract about live shows. I already went over it with Cas this afternoon. It pays well, too. You guys interested? It’s not like any of you have actual jobs lined up, right?”
Y/N closes her mouth. “I got that Sondheim musical in San Diego. It’s a workshop production, but if it goes well, it could go all the way to Broadway. I could end up in New York.”
“Good,” Dean says and smirks. “You’re fucking fired.”
“WHAT?!” Y/N’s mouth falls open again. “You said you’d never fire me!”
“Yeah, well, this is for your own good,” Dean reasons. “You think I’m gonna let you quit Sondheim for some stupid wrestling show in Vegas? You gotta be fucking nuts! This is what you fucking wanted. Don’t make me kick your stupid ass onto that stage. It’s gonna look embarrassing for you again…”
Y/N bites her lips to conceal her grin. Her eyes meet Jo’s, who mouths ‘I told you so’ at her. “Thank you,” she tells Dean and kisses his cheek. He furrows his brow at her in suspicion. “But rehearsals don’t start until June. Still gonna need a job till then.”
“Oh.” Dean’s brow shoots up in realization. “The June in nine months?”
“Yeah, the June in nine months,” Y/N confirms with a laugh.
“Whoops. Well, consider yourself rehired till June, then,” Dean relents.
“So, if I ever have to work in New York–”
“Then we’ll go to New York. Big fucking whoop-dee-doo. You know I hate LA.”
Y/N giggles, nodding. “What would you do in New York?”
“Same I do here, just on a little balcony instead of a backyard. I sit with my typewriter by a table and smoke and drink,” Dean retorts. “I’ve actually been working on a new script. I’m moving away from horror and into Western.”
“Got inspired by the motel’s wallpaper, huh?” Y/N teases. “What’s it about?”
“Father-daughter storyline. Thought I’d give that a shot…”
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1990, 5 years later…
“Dean! We’re gonna be late!” Y/N reminds him and holds the blindfold in place over her eyes as he drags her somewhere by the hand. Her heels can barely keep up with his fast pace. “You know, check-in at LAX is the worst. Our flight departs in two hours. I’m nominated, Dean! I can’t reschedule! The girls are all flying in, too…”
“I know! I’m fucking hurrying, okay?” Dean assures. However, she can hear the stress and tension in his gravelly voice. He then suddenly halts and positions her into place by her shoulders before carefully taking off the blindfold. “Alright, here we are.”
Y/N blinks her eyes open and recognizes blurry shapes of purple and gold. She lifts an eyebrow as ornaments on the walls and a big stage come into view as well. “The Aztec porno theater?”
“Mayan,” Dean corrects her and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he gets down in front of her on one knee and tries to fumble out the too-big ring box from his too-tiny suit jacket pocket. “Son of a bitch!”
“Dean, wait!” Y/N stops his endeavor with raised palms, her eyebrows meeting her hairline when she realizes what he’s about to do.
“Oh, c’mon, Y/N!” Dean frowns in frustration and rises to his feet with a huff and a shaking head. “I know you’re against marriage and the patriarchy and all that bullshit, but c’mon… We’ve been dating for five years. We have a good thing going, right?”
After spending a whole year in beautiful Las Vegas – the Paris of Nevada – the two of them moved to New York. Dean sold his house in Burbank and opted for a Brooklyn apartment instead. Claire also studied film at NYU before she graduated last Spring. But every few months, the couple finds themselves back in LA – for interviews, for business, for friends.
“Dean–”
“No! You know me. I’d make a great fucking husband. You love it when I make reporters laugh on the red carpet. I’m an awesome trophy husband, okay?”
“DEAN!”
“WHAT?!”
Why the fuck is she angry now? He should be the one that’s angry. She’s turning down the best opportunity of her life. She should consider herself lucky he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He even had an amazing speech prepared to knock her right off her feet, but does he get to say it now? How he wanted to grow fucking old together and support each other? How he wanted to marry her all those years ago when she told him she was pregnant? Nope...
“I’m fucking pregnant!”
Dean blinks at her in confusion before his eyes begin to wander around the familiar theater. Did he take something? Drink too much? Did he actually travel through time or is this a weird fever dream on his deathbed?
“What’s it with you and this theater? And why do you always yell that?”
“Because you never listen.” Y/N giggles and bites her lower lip. “And I’ll gladly marry you if that’s what you were going for. I just figured I’d tell you before in case you wanna change your mind and bail.”
“Why the fuck would I bail?” Dean’s brows knit together, close to offense.
She shrugs and holds up her palms in surrender. “I don’t know! I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”
“Why? Isn’t it mine?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, a grin twitching on her pink lips as she slaps his arm. “Yes, of course it’s yours.”
“And you’re keeping it? You sure?” Dean throws her a quizzical look.
Her brow furrows. “Why, you aren’t?”
“No, I am!” he assures her swiftly, realizing how it sounded. “Hell yeah, I want another kid! You know I always wanted to make up for missing out on Claire so much! I finally get to change a diaper, go to the park, or the fucking zoo while my wife works… It’ll be so fun!”
Y/N tries to stifle her laugh. He seems happy, judging by the joyful glint in his green eyes. They resemble sparkling emeralds.
“But are you sure, y' know?” Dean checks with a deep look into her eyes. “I mean, I do what I can to support you and keep the thing alive in your absence, but you know you’re still gonna be benched for a couple of months, right? I’m not a fucking seahorse.”
Y/N laughs a little at that. “I know. I’m fine with sitting on the bench for a little while. I’m kinda exhausted. I did two Broadway musicals almost back to back, three off-Broadway shows, all the workshops and the rehearsals and Matinees and the dancing and the singing… Not to mention I’m nominated for a fucking Tony tonight,” she says and is close to out of breath by the time she finishes her list of accomplishments.
“Which you’re gonna win,” Dean reassures her persistently. He’s been telling her since the nominations were announced (and even before that when he first saw her in the role on the first night).
“We’ll see,” she brushes him off, although her blushed cheeks betray her words. In her heart, she hopes so as well. “Anyways, I could use the break,” she admits and takes his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers. She places a loving kiss on his lips. “Right time, right guy, right baby,” she says, smiling.
Dean squeezes her hand happily and pulls her to his lips for a searing kiss. “So, where did we land on that whole marriage thing?”
“See? You’re never listening,” she teases, laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Under one condition…”
Dean smirks. “I've had the same exact thought – Vegas. It’s perfect!”
“What, no! I don’t wanna get married in filthy Vegas, you dork!” Y/N frowns playfully, shaking her head. “I wanna get married in Nebraska. I want my dad to marry us."
Dean’s brow creases. He chuckles in amusement. “What, like a shotgun wedding? Could be fun… Pastor marries pregnant daughter to older man. Is this gonna make headlines in the townie paper?”
Y/N snorts, shaking her head at him. “No, it’s a shotgun wedding. It’s very common,” she deadpans.
“I’ve never met your parents,” Dean realizes then. “Why have I never met your parents? It’s weird they never come visit you,” he ponders.
“Oh no, they do,” Y/N tells him, pursing her lips as she twirls her hair around her finger. “They’ve seen me both in Into The Woods and Gypsy.”
“Really, when?” Dean narrows his eyes at her.
“Whenever you were in LA, visiting Claire,” Y/N admits ruefully. She never told them she was dating the director, not sure if they’d approve – not that she gives a shit, but she wanted to spare herself all the sermons and the exploring of the Sunday school dating pool. Whenever they asked who owned the men’s clothes in her apartment, she lied and said she had a gay-but-in-the-closet roommate. “But you can meet them now,” she promises with a reassuring smile on her lips. Thank God she’s an excellent, Tony-nominated actress. “I’m sure they learn to love you just like I did.”
“Learn to?”
“I love you.” Y/N smiles mischievously and shuts up any further comments by kissing him.
Dean grins and relents with a blissful sigh. “I love you, too.”
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THE END 🌅
Thank you all so much for reading and making me laugh with your comments and screams throughout! 🤍
Are we done with these two for good? Probably not. I've left gaps and doors open on purpose, so I'm sure they'll make an appearance again at some point in the future 😉
TAGS:
Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad
@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways
@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70
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Kind of sick of those "how to draw" guides for mobility aids people sometimes make and the aids depicted are always the sleekest, newest models in the best possible condition that perfectly fit the users needs like I get that abled people who don't know how to accurately draw a cane may not be ready for the reality that maybe half of all cripples are using second hand mobility aids that don't fit them, don't quite meet their needs ("guy who uses a walker but needs a wheelchair," etc) and probably desperately need parts replaced, but I don't know, something about seeing art of attractive people in Instagram worthy outfits using medical equipment that costs thousands of dollars that looks like they just fucking got it brand new makes me feel...something
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soulsillk · 7 months
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Lord, the Insomniac timeline for the Spider-Man games is a fucking mess
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autolenaphilia · 3 months
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God, Matt Mullenweg is a dumbass. He could just have let his staff ban predstrogen, ignore her harassment and kept quiet, and he would have gotten away with it. She is a trans woman and people literally get away with murdering us, and the majority of the people who care are fellow trans women. Don't get me wrong, he will likely still get away with it, but he made this a bigger problem for him than it would have been otherwise.
Like this is more evidence that rich people are not smarter, they are often quite dumb. They don't work harder, and have quite easy jobs. Matt at this point has one of the easiest jobs in history, just let the money from wordpress being 40% of the internet roll into his bank account and relax. And he still managed to fuck that up.
That's because he took the quite minor controversy over Predstrogen being repeatedly banned personally for some reason. I'm not sure why, probably he thought his site being accused of transmisogynic moderation practices was a blow to his self-image as a cool tolerant dude.
And then he proved the critics point by repeatedly misgendering her, and singling her out by him, the ceo of tumblr, personally justifying her being banned. And then arguing about it with randos in replies and even dms. Like he points out himself that "We generally do not comment on individual cases." That's generally a good policy for a ceo of a social media site to have, Matt, don't ever make an exception to it, no matter how upset you are about "misinformation" that you are a transmisogynist.
Like his company's PR team must have been literally asleep or off the clock, or he didn't consult with them beforehand, because if they were in any way competent they would have told him what a bad idea this was.
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erideights · 8 months
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Little pieces here and there (2)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, three, four, five
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Flirting, suggestive flirting, heavy pinning
A/N: GUYS THIS CHAPTER HAS ME ON THE FLOOR, I HOPE YOU ENJOY, THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE and if you like it let me know to start preparing part 3 ♡ (sorry for any grammatical mistake!)
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"The One Piece will never be yours!" He shouted angrily, that -now- dwarf with a red nose, giant hands and feet, when he was defeated. Just like in a cartoon for kids.
"You're just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man's hat!" She could not understand how it was possible that this intimidating, psychopathic, eccentric clown had turn around so quickly into this little thing that was so... dare she say pathetic, but she didn't wanna be too cruel to him.
The moment Luffy declared his intentions again, Buggy began to look around him, desperate for a way to escape, maybe one of his crew members who would miraculously come to the rescue, or an unexpected ally.  Like (Y/N).
"Wo wo wo wo, no no no no, wait wait!"
He opened his mouth and begged, probably to suggest some kind of pact, to promise (Y/N) a place among his crew like he did with Luffy before, but before he could say anything else, the rubber boy already threw him into the sky.
And that was the last time she thought she would see Buggy The Clown. Little did she know, she was wrong.
Oh, so wrong.
Let's say that the days to come were anything but calm. From the Kuro Incident™, at least they won Usopp's friendship and the Going Merry, one of the cutest ships she has ever seen, to be fair.
And then they arrived at the Baratie, where they met the oh, so attentive Sanji, Zoro was about to die, and Nami... Nami left with the fishmen. Although (Y/N) was on Luffy and Sanji's side when they claimed something bad was actually happening, because she wouldn't have chosen to leave with them just like that, without a hidden, ugly reason behind. Didn't fit in with the idea she had of the ginger.
"I know someone who knows where to find her," says her "captain" when they all discuss their next step.
"Hello boys!" Buggy's head coughs and exclaims in the most forced, sarcastic way possible. Imagine threatening to kill those people after kidnapping them less than a week ago, and now your life depends on them. Low blow, if someone asked her. "Sweetheart." He then smirked devilishly when he saw (Y/N) a little further back, resting her side on the kitchen counter. Surprised to see him and the way he calls her, she raises an eyebrow and gives a small, amused smile. "Hello Buggy."
"Arg, Doll! I'm so happy to see a beautiful face like yours around here." The clown shouts when (Y/N) comes out on deck after several hours organizing the pantries with Sanji. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye with a little smile on her lips when she leaves a snack for Usopp and goes towards the bow of the ship or, in fewer words = in the opposite direction to where her mere existence is spiritually needed. The clown is already tired of giving Usopp directions after all morning arguing where to go, so infatuated and hypnotized by the mysterious aura that surrounds the woman, he doesn’t give up, and his head floats in the direction of the girl, following her, resting right by her side as she sits on the ground, legs falling over the ship's railing and out to the sea.
"Pretty sure you didn't hear me back there" because the idea of someone ignoring him was unthinkable. A war crime. An insult to God itself. He was still Buggy The Clown, The Flashy Fool, even without his crew. Or his ship. Or his body. Fucking hell, what did he have left apart from the head? "I was saying I'm glad I'm not only surrounded by idiots. Having your beautiful face around here makes standing them much easier." He flirts, winking an eye, which (Y/N) doesn't fully get but finds kinda interesting. "We had a moment the other day, right? It wasn't just my imagination, I know it."
"Yeah, we totally had a moment" She agrees, clearly being sarcastic to everyone but him.  "You kidnapped us, you called me pretty, you searched me, I threatened you, you liked it..." she lists, lying her back on the deck, arms raised, own head resting on her hands, enjoying the breeze, the sun, and the smell of the salty water. 
"I loved it," he corrects her after emitting a little grunt of satisfaction, vividly remembering that scene. What would he not give to go back and enjoy it a little bit more before the rest of her crew ruined his entire day -week- so blatantly and unnecessarily over the top.
"You're welcome. Any time." She answers after an amused giggle, eyes closed.
"Don't tempt me."
"Now tell me," Buggy resumes the conversation after about 30 seconds of silence. He clearly doesn't know how to enjoy it. He is that type of person for whom silence not only makes him uncomfortable, but also terrifies him. Theatre kid. "What's a woman like you doing with a bunch of insufferable kids like them? I know they're trying to organize their boy band and go on adventures around the world, but you... you should look for someone more suitable to your needs, capable of giving you different stimuli. More mature." He adds in the end with a low, seductive tone of voice, shamelessly feeding on the image of the curve of her body now that she's not paying visual attention to him.
"Hmhm. Maybe I'll look for them." She answers nonchalantly, just because. She finds really entertaining this type of tug-flirting-war. Even if he's the only one that flirts and she just gives him opportunities to do so.
"You don't have to look too far." He was so cliché, how cute.
"You talk too much to be no more than a floating head."
"I could always put my tongue to better use." Snapping her eyes open, (Y/N) holds her breath for a second, taking in what she just heard = what he just offered. That would be, literally, giving head. In all the glorious sense of the expression. Raising both eyebrows, she turns her face on the ground to observe him, nibbling at her lower lip. She seems to consider it for a few seconds, because no, she cannot deny how interesting and, at the same time, weird, degenerate, the idea is. But before he has the opportunity to keep talking his way into convincing her, she breaks into a cruel smile and decides to cut his mood "You mean like guiding us to the Konomi islands instead of talking with me? You're right, you should get back to work."
He looks at her like he was just betrayed by his second in command, hoping she would agree by the expression on her face seconds ago, the way she looked at him and how she was biting her own lip in that tortuous way that pushed him to want -need- to do it by himself.
"Wait, no need to play difficult with me sweetheart, I--" But it's too late, (Y/N) is already standing, grabbing Buggy's head between her hands, and before he could add anything else, she winks at him, kiss one of his cheeks, screams at the top of his lungs "USOPP!! CATCH HIM!" and throws his head like she was playing volleyball, Usopp jumping to be able to reach him, both of them celebrating the pass like children, ignoring Buggy's complaints.
The third time he flirts -tries to- with her, she's back on the deck, helping Zoro and Sanji moving some things around. He begins to scream desperately, and knowing damn well that if no one pays attention to him he won't stop even if that means losing his voice, she approaches, hands on her hips, sighing as she looks at him like someone that is about to regret getting close to a crying, annoying child. "What's wrong with you?" she asks dryly, pressing her lips together. "Ah, my guardian angel. Could you do me the favor of scratching me behind my ear?" Oh. A waaay more harmless request than she expected. Of course, she relents, because she sees nothing wrong with this small favor; she’s quite the empathetic, and in his place she would surely prefer to jump headfirst -ba dum tss- into the sea rather than suffer that itch and not be able to scratch it. After granting his wish, just as she is about to leave, Buggy moves his head much faster than anyone would predict, to catch one of the girl's fingers in his mouth and suck and lick and nibble, in a… God, a sample of what he could do with his tongue somewhere else.
A shiver runs down (Y/N)'s spine, and it reaches a pleasurable end between her legs, causing her to press them together as she inhales deeply.
"Wanna see what else I can do?" He whispers as he releases her. She can hear him over the crash of the waves against the hull of the boat, eyes fixed on his face, will to complain nowhere to be seen. Bold, not in a hundred years she would have expected that. And for a moment, she is tempted. That has been undeniably attractive. And it had a really strong effect on her. "I would gladly show you if you let me, you just have to ask, sugar lips. I bet it's been a damn long time you don't treat yourself--"
"(Y/N)!!" Zoro calls her, instantly exploding the bubble between Buggy and her.
She sighs in relief because only God knows she was close to give up. Then swallows, shakes her head exaggeratedly to shake herself out of his spell, and, licking her lips, gives the clown a mischievous smile, recomposing herself. "Nice try"
"Stop trying to deny the obvious" He tried again for the... 5th time? She /really/ lost count during their journey. Appearing from nowhere, he startled her in the process. He was now in a shelf of the kitchen, at the same height as the girl's face. "The chemistry between us is unbearable, you can see it from miles away." Jumping to approach the edge of the shelf, his eyes look her up and down. "Turns me on how you play hard to get because I don't like easy things either, so I respect your game," he nods, raising an eyebrow "But come on... I know you like me. I've seen how you look at me or bite your lip when I flirt with you, you have nothing to be ashamed of."
This whole thing was really trying her patience. Not because she wanted to fuck him off, but because she knows that all that flirting would end with her giving in and doing something she certainly shouldn't. As of for now, he had gotten her to vaguely consider it, and she had to admit, she was growing some kind of attraction slash fondness slash crush for him, but it wasn't enough to fall to her knees.
He wanted war, tho? He would have it.
"You're right, I like you, but you know, I like my men body and all, capable of grabbing me by the hips and pushing me on theirs, to fuck me and make me scream their name until I lose my voice. To make it difficult for me to walk straight the day after." she whispers, approaching him slowly until they share the same air, her nose touching his red one. (Y/N) closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as her tongue caresses her own lips, almost touching the clown’s ones too. Yes, she likes him, she has some sort of twisted soft spot for men who ranged from intimidating psychopath to the most pathetic human being depending on the day, and Buggy was the perfect example for that. "And you..." she tilts her head to the side, attempting to close the distance between each other and kiss him, but at the last second she withdraws, leaving the poor clown with his eyes closed, waiting for the touch of her dreamy lips. "Unfortunately you're just a head."
"Try again when you get your whole body back!"
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wlntrsldler · 2 months
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poisoned mercury | end up here
a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.
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iv. end up here by 5sos
series masterlist | previous | next
“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 
luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 
anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 
luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 
“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 
“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 
“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 
“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 
you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 
as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 
when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 
“five star, 
i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 
ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 
luke :)” 
the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 
and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 
you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.
after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 
you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 
“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 
“well, i did help organize it.” 
“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 
“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 
“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 
“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 
“are you cold?” 
your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 
luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 
“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”
always so stubborn, luke thought.  
“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 
“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 
luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 
when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 
he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 
he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 
“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 
“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 
“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 
“did you write it?” 
luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 
“you need to stop doing that.”
he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 
“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 
“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 
“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 
you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 
luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”
you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 
you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 
he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”
you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 
you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 
“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 
“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 
“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 
“18.” 
“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 
you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 
“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 
there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 
he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 
you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 
he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 
you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 
the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 
“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 
the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 
then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 
luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 
he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 
“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 
“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 
connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 
luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 
you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 
“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 
you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 
the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 
you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 
but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 
“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”
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samandcolbyownme · 7 months
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Summary: anon request - "Hi can u do one like should've stayed home but with Sam please and can u make it so they end up fighting about leaving and not wanting to leave and so the car ride home is silent leaving Colby feeling awkward until they get home then they make up after a little bit more arguing please please pleas thank u."
Warning: This one shot will get dark at parts and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder and such at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by and there will be a short SMUT scene at the end.
I also kinda changed around the ending a little bit, hope you don't mind!
Word count: 8.1K
"What's up guys. It's Sam and Colby."
You stand off to the side, watching as they do their intro, "Today." Sam presses his hands together and leans in, "We are at the Agatha Asylum, or better known as the worst place to be sent if you were already having a bad day."
"It's said that people who had, or thought to have had any kind of mental illness were sent here for-" Colby puts air quotes, "-help.. and they were punished by being chained to walls, stuck in cages, beaten, and most even faced death."
"We are here today to see if we can get some answers as to why the person in charge, John Agatha, would do something like this." Sam glances over at you, "We also have with us a very special guest, y/n."
You walk over, standing in between Sam and Colby and hold your hand up, "I don't know why I'm here. I hate asylums."
"You volunteered to handcuff yourself to the wall, remember?" Colby jokes and looks at you. You raise your eyebrows, "The fuck I did."
"Anyway." Sam tries not to laugh, "We are currently waiting on the owner of this asylum to get here so we can get a tour and get a feel for what we will be dealing with.." Sam looks over at the road, "I think that's them now."
A car pulls up and parks, stepping out is a man and women.
"Are you Mark and Cindy?" Colby asks walking over and the man nods, "Yes, are you Sam and Colby?" Sam holds his hand up, "I'm Sam, this is my girlfriend y/n and that's Colby."
You all say hello and they jump right into it, "So.." Cindy starts out, "This is Agatha Asylum." She motions towards the building behind the fence, "This is to keep anyone out, since we're trying to get it ready to present to the public, we have it blocked off so people don't get in without us knowing. Or we try to at least."
"Have people gotten in?" Colby asks and Mark nod, "Oh yeah. We eventually set up security cameras around the perimeter. The day we noticed a broken window and spray paint lids, actually."
"What kind of things happened here exactly?" Sam asks handing the camera to Colby.
Cindy blows air, "Oh gosh, anything from restraining the patients inhumanly to keeping them locked in cages that were maybe, if they were lucky, a little bigger than themselves."
You raise your eyebrows, "What the hell?"
Mark nods, "most of the women who came in were attacked by the staff if you know what I mean so I'm sure the women are angry. I mean, hell I would be too if I was stuck here."
"Have you guys had any thing happen to you?" Colby asks, "Like personally or maybe to someone you know that has come here."
Mark nods, "Yeah, I've had my tools messed with, moved. Cindy has been pushed down the steps, and one of my guys who are working with me on getting this ready, was pushed from his ladder."
"Pushed off a lad- oh shit." Sam shakes his head, "Is there anything we need to know before going in there? Like maybe who to try and get in contact with or what not to ask?"
"John Agatha. He's the one who ran this place. Many people have tried to contact him but they never got any real answers as to why." Cindy says, "Just make your intentions known, I know some of the spirits in there can get pretty mean, so just keep reminding them that you mean no harm."
"Has anyone stayed a full night here?" You ask and they laugh, "No."
"No?" Colby asks raising his eyebrows, "Looks like we have a challenge on our hands, guys." He looks over at you and Sam and Sam shakes his head, "I'm already shitting my pants, dude."
"You all will by the time it gets dark. It's a pretty active place during the day, don't get me wrong, but not only me, but from other groups that came through as well, said it's gets worse at night." Mark sighs, "So. Who's ready for the tour?"
"You guys have fun, I'm going home." Colby pretends to walk away before turning back around, "No, let's go before I really do change my mind."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"So this hallway leads you to where most of the women were held.." Cindy points to the right and then to the left, "Men were held that way."
"Is there any specific areas as to where the most activity happens?" Sam asks laying his hand on your back as he steps around you, "Where were the cages kept exactly?"
"This whole place, honestly. You're bound to get activity anywhere in here and there were at least two cages per room."
"Per room?" You raise your eyebrows, "How many were kept in a room at one time?"
"Two but some held up to four, depending on many were here and came in and what not." Mark says looking around. He stares down the hallway and Sam turns the camera, "Did you see something?"
"A shadow moved across then end of that hallway there." He points, "No taller than you." He motions to Colby and Colby shrugs, "Sorry. I'm just that fast."
He starts pretending to Sonic run in place. You laugh and shake your head, "You can't be serious at all can you?" He shakes his head, "Not when I'm scared shitless, no."
Mark and Cindy laugh and start walking down the hall way. They explain each room briefly, basically what it was used for until you finally reach an old wooden door that's laying on the floor.
"This is where they kept, what they called, the worst of the worst." Mark lifts the door, revealing a steep staircase, "Watch your step as you come down."
"This is a really odd basement entrance." Sam says handing the camera to Colby, "What the hell."
Mark and Cindy go down first, followed by Sam then you. He helps you down, coaching you through the steps until you reach the bottom.
"What you're not going to help me?" Colby asks looking over his shoulder at Sam. All of you start baby talking to Colby coaching him down the steps and he stands there with his lips pressed together, "Should have never said anything."
Sam takes the camera, making sure Colby is good before turning around, "What is up with freaking jail cells in the basements of these places?"
"Literally." You mumble as you wrap your arms around yourself, "It's so cold down here. Did they have any sort of heat at the time of this place being open?"
Mark shakes his head, "They had a fireplace over there but as you can see it got filled from the outside in so who knows when that happened."
There's a loud thud from upstairs and you jump, "the fuck?"
Colby points, "That sounded like the door lifted up and dropped back down." Sam nods, "Yeah yeah yeah."
"Very well could have been. Doors opening on their own is very common around here." Cindy says, "Especially the third floor, that's where lots of the killings happened."
"Why the third floor?" Colby asks, "Why not down here?"
"The patients ended up dying all over the place, but if they were ordered to be put out by John, they would drag them up the stairs, kill them then dump their bodies out of the back window, into what was said to be a big wagon and then taken about half a mile away and they would just burn them and then just cover the hole with dirt."
"That answers my question about what they do with the bodies." Sam cringes, "I can't even imagine that."
"The hauntings and activity started a year or two after the patients first started to die. So if you can, try to contact.. oh shit. Was was his name?" Cindy looks at Mark and he shakes his head, "Oh, you mean Warren Summers?"
She nods, "Yes! He was reported to be the first to die, they ruled his death an accident but we all know it wasn't."
"Well definitely try to contact him, find out some answers." Colby nods and mark motions, "Alright, I need to get out of here, this spot makes me feel sick."
"Whoa really?" Sam looks at Colby, "Do you feel okay?" Colby nods and Sam looks at you, "Do you feel alright?"
You nod your head, "I mean, I feel like there's pressure on my chest, but it's not like, oh my god I can't breathe, kinda pressure."
"Let's get out of here and we'll just start in the main lobby." Sam says as he walks you over to the stairs. You go up first, followed by Sam and he turns around, "Come on, Colby." His voice is high pitched, "You can do it!"
Colby glares up at him from mid stairs and shakes his head as he laughs, "Thanks buddy. I needed that."
Mark and Cindy make their way up and she points to you, "Are you sure they're the ones not together?"
You sigh and shrug, "Sometimes I feel like I'm in a competition." You laugh and look over at Colby who does the, I'm watching you, motion.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Alright, guys. We have the REM pod here, and we're going to start out easy tonight by starting in the lobby." Sam walks over to the desk, setting the pod down, "It was said that there was a receptionist here who just so happened to be John's wife, Mabel, so she had to known everything you'd think."
"Didn't mark say that she disappeared randomly one day and no one really looked for her?" You ask looking at Sam, and he nods, "Yeah yeah yeah, maybe she didn't know what was going on and when she started to find out he silenced her?"
"John Agatha was a very wealthy man at the time of his death, so it very well could be or he offed her because she knew he had money?" Colby shrugs, "I mean, there's really only one way to find out."
Colby leans forward, switching on the pod and testing it a few times before stepping back, "Ladies first." He smirks towards you and you roll your eyes playfully, "Okay. Hello, my name is y/n. I mean no harm, I'm just here to ask you a few questions if that's okay."
The pod lights up and you straight up slightly, "If it's okay that I ask, can you touch that little light for me again?"
It lights up and you look between Sam and Colby, "Okay." You look back, "Thank you. Am I speaking to the wife of John Agatha? Mabel. If so touch that light for me again."
A few seconds go by before the light goes off, "Thank you, Mabel."
Sam hands the camera to Colby, "Hello, Mabel, I'm Sam. I come with peace and the possibility of finding out what happened here. I'd like to ask you something too if that's okay."
The pod lights up and Sam takes a deep breath, "Did your husband.. end your life?"
Right after the pod lights up, it stops and there's a loud crash from slightly far away.
You all jump, yelling out cuss words. You lean around Sam the look down the hallway, "What the hell was that?"
"It sounded like something big fell, like you know those big metal carts the food trays are served on? It sounded like one of those and everything in it just falling out." Colby moves forward, "Should we go check it out?"
The rem pod lights up three times in a row and you all look back at it before looking at each other.
"My name is Colby, I mean no harm to you or anyone else here. Was that a warning? Should we not go look?" Colby asks and it lights up one time quickly, "Make that go off for me if that was a yes."
Instantly turns on.
"Fuck, okay." Colby turns to Sam, "What do we do?"
Sam shakes his head, "If we're being told not to go there, we shouldn't."
"That hasn't stopped us before." Colby chuckles slightly, "Y/n."
You're zoned out on the dark hallway where the sound came from, you know that Colby has the camera on you, but you can't acknowledge it.
You feel Sam's hand on you, pulling you back as your body is trying to go forward, "Hey, hey. Y/n. Look at me." Sam steps in front of you, breaking your stare and you shake your head slightly.
He looks up at Colby and back to you, "What just happened? Talk to me." Sam lays his hands on your cheeks and keeps your head straight, "Hey."
"I felt something calling me towards where the sound came from." You lay your hand on Sam's bicep, "It was weird."
"What the fuck." Sam whispers as he looks back up at Colby and he shrugs, "Okay, we'll just go to the left wing, give whatever that is, time to do whatever it needs to do."
Sam pulls you with him, as you still felt drawn.
"So something just took over y/n pretty much." Colby explains, "Y/n, what happened?" He points the camera on you and you laugh slightly, "Um, I don't really know.. like you know how when you're so tired you just zone out?"
They nod and you sigh, "It was like that, but I swear there was a figure standing there, watching us and I was just having some sort of stare down with him."
"You started walking towards it, then. Like what happened with that?" Colby follows up, "Like did it say anything?"
You shake your head, "I knew you had the camera on me, and I knew Sam was pulling me back, but no. Nothing was said, it just stood there watching us and I just felt like I needed to go there."
"John Agatha?" Sam whispers, "Could it- do you think it was him?" You shrug, "Maybe? I don't know, it was the same figure Mark saw I think.. he was really no taller than Colby."
"It had to be, maybe he's trying to tell us to get out or maybe.. with a sliver of luck, he wants to explain himself." Colby shakes his head, "I don't know, let's just avoid that area until we cover this side."
Colby grabs the pod, switching it off as he turns back towards you and Sam, "Are you okay like do you feel alright?"
You nod, even though you feel like you could puke, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."
Sam rubs your arm, "You sure?"
You nod again, "Yes, Sam. I'm sure."
He could tell something was off, but he trusted you. He knew you'd stop if you really couldn't handle it.
"Where to next?" You ask as you take his hand into yours. Sam squeezes your hand and points, "I figured we could go into the day room, that's where Paul Yellow allegedly killed his roommate."
"These two men specifically had beef with each other.." Colby starts out as he hands the camera to Sam who lets go of your hand to take it, "..it was said that they would always be stealing from each other and would always be trying to get one another in trouble, but no one would admit to it, so the staff basically let them handle it themselves and that's when Paul came into the day room with a hammer that he somehow found, and bludgeoned Frank to death."
"Yeah in front of everyone but the staff were basically the only, " sam turns the camera around to him, putting at quotes, "Sane ones here, so they covered it up basically by saying that Frank fell and that was that."
"Wasn't Paul taken by the staff and tortured?" You ask as you look over at Sam. He nods, "Pretty much, yes."
As Sam and Colby explain what you guys were going to do next, you walked over to the window, looking out into the old courtyard.
"Come over here."
You turn around, walking over to Sam, "What?" He looks at you confused, "What?" You look between him and Colby, "Didn't you just tell me to come over here?"
Sam looks up at Colby and back down to you, "No I was getting the EMF ready."
You motion towards the window, "I swear to god, you said, come over here, when I was standing at the window."
Colby's eyes go wide, "He didn't say that." He shakes his head, "Oh fuck."
"So if you didn't sa-"
The sound of, what you think, is a metal trash can sliding across the floor makes you stop talking. It's quick, but you all hear it.
"Something just got drug or pushed across the floor." Sam whispers, "Fuck, fuck, okay. Let's get this thing going.." he turns on the EMF and you all step back.
"I'm y/n. I come in peace, I just want to ask a few questions. Paul Yellow, did you tell me to come over here?" You bite down on your cheek, waiting for the device to give you an answer.
"Were you over by the window with me?" You ask and it lights up green, "was it Paul?"
It lights up red.
"Are we talking to Frank?" Colby asks and it lights up green, "Did Paul kill you?"
Lights up red.
"Was it someone else?" Sam asks trying to keep the camera still and he looks over at you when it lights up green.
"Who else co-" you stop, "Was it one of the staff, Frank?"
Instant green.
"One of the staff did it then blamed Paul?" Colby looks shocked and he jumps slightly as it lights up green, "Holy shit, dude."
"I wonder if they've had anyone figure this out." Sam asks and he turns around, "Did you hear that?" You lean around to look, listening for the sound. Sam looks back, "It sounded like someone was walking and dragging their hand along the wall."
The sound Sam explained happened again and you look up at him, "That?" Sam nods, "Exactly that."
"Something is following us." Colby says quietly, "It has to be."
The EMF lights up green and you all look at each other, "Is it John Agatha?" You glance back at the EMF, "All you need to do is-"
It lights up green and you sigh, "Thank you." A thump against the wall makes you jump, "I don't think he likes being told what to do." You joke which makes Colby laugh, Sam just shakes his head.
"You good, bro?" Colby pushes his arm and looks at him. Sam smiles slightly, "Yeah, no I'm good."
You find yourself being pulled into that stare again, this time it's in the corner of the day room, but nothing is there.
"Colby. Colby." Sam says as he grabs you by the waist. You try to pull away from him, but he wraps his arm around you, "Y/n. Snap out of it, come on."
You lean back into him, "There's something over there."
"You aren't going over there alone." He fights back as he switches his flash light on, revealing just the ripped wallpaper, "See. Nothing."
"There was." You turn around, "he was watching us."
"Who? John?" Colby asks and the EMF lights up green, "Maybe we should try the-" the loud crashing sound makes him stop talking instantly.
"You don't think people got in here do you?" Sam tightens his grip on your waist, "We tweeted about coming here.. so like.."
"They have cameras all around the perimeter they said, and I'm sure they would have told us if they saw something." Sam says as he pulls his phone out, "Let me call Mark, see if he can tell me if there was anything outside."
As Sam calls mark, you close your eyes, resting your head back on his shoulder. Colby walks up, squeezing your arm, "You still with us?"
You open your eyes, nodding, "Yeah I just got really dizzy."
Sam looks down at you and puts the phone on speaker, "There was nothing outside?"
"Not since you went back inside." Mark says on the other end of the phone, "If you do decide to leave just make sure you lock the gate and we can get the key tomorrow."
"Alright, yeah. We'll let you know." Sam says and they end the call, "So it's just us in here." He looks down at you, "Are you okay?"
You nod and stand up, "Yeah, I'm good."
"You're not dizzy anymore?" He brushes hair from your face and you shake your head, "No I'm good."
"I'm thinking we move from here and we go to the third floor." Colby walks over and Sam stops you from following him, "We can leave if this is too much."
"Sam. I'm fine. I promise."
"I don't like the way you just zone out and try to walk away. That's not like you, that isn't you." His eyes scan over your face and you weren't sure if it was the place effecting you, but you just wanted to keep going, "Something is drawing us to that hallway."
"What do you mean?" Sam shakes his head, "Y/n, I don't want you out of my sight, this place is too big and too dark for you to just go off away from us."
"Then put me on a leash or something, because I'm not done here."
You've never spoken to Sam like that. Ever. So when you said it, you were both surprised, "I'm.. sorry, I don't know where that came from."
"My point exactly." Sam chews on his lip, trying to tell himself over and over again that this place is a lot more powerful than they thought.
"What's going on? You guys okay?"
"Yes." You say the same time Sam says, "No."
Colby looks between the two of you then back to Sam. Sam sighs, "This place obviously has a hold over you, y/n. So everything is not okay."
"What-" Colby starts but you cut him off, looking directly at Sam, "Sam. This is what we do. you can't expect me to just back out every time something hap-"
Sam cuts you off, "Yours being pulled by what we can only assume is a dark entity. How do you expect me to act? Just let you walk off into the sunset with it? No. No thanks."
"Guys, come on.. just take a deep breath. There's absolutely no need to argue." Colby tries to settle the situation but it only seemed to fire up the ghosts because it sounds like a table is lifted then dropped back down.
Sam instantly grabs you, pulling you to him, "You're staying close."
You don't put up any more of a fight, knowing that Sam would drag you out himself if he had to, "Fine."
You knew he was right. As soon as you seen the figure in the hallway, something switched and it was like you needed to follow it.
And you didn't know why.
"Why don't we just go there?" Colby says as you guys leave the day room, "Where the sound happened. If it gets bad we can just leave, we always have that option."
You knew Colby wanted to stay, too, but he was also worried about Sam because he was worried about you, "What do you want to do, Sam?"
Sam thinks for a moment before sighing, "If you zone out one more time and try to walk away from us, we're leaving."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The investigation went on to be better than you guys thought. Nothing happened to you. Nothing happened to them, you thought that maybe your small argument with Sam helped, but you'd soon come to find out that was not true at all.
"So as you guys could see, there hasn't really been much activity going on, probably for the last hour or two." Colby says and motions towards the spirit box, "We brought this to the third floor, hoping to see if we can figure out what exactly happened to some of the patients."
Sam sets the camera down on the one table, angling it towards you guys and the box, "Okay, we'll sit this right here and.." Sam stands up and turns around, "Did you touch me?"
You shake your head, "We've been over here."
"My whole body like shifted and it felt like someone's hand on my side." He lays his hand right where he felt it, "like right here exactly." Colby walks over and Sam demonstrates on him what he felt.
"fucking hell that's creepy." Colby shakes his head, "You know when we were walking up the stairs, it felt like someone else was behind us."
"I thought I heard someone whistle or whisper, I don't know.. it was like a quiet high pitched sound, but I couldn't make out if it was a word or not." You look around, "This floor honestly makes me nervous, and those creepy steps didn't help."
"Those stairs the whole way up I just kept thinking about how people were actually getting dragged up and sown." Sam shakes his head, "let's just.. get this thing going."
Sam was off, and you picked up on it quickly. It was almost like what took over you, took over Sam.
"Sam?" You step towards him, "Sam... Colby.. colby."
He stares at the floor and Colby walks up to him, "Sam, dude. Hey."
You shake him slightly and he looks back up, "Let's get this thing going."
You look at Colby and back to Sam, "You already said that." He looks at you confused, "Huh?" He laughs nervously, "No I didn't."
Colby nods, "You did, man. You zoned out after, looking at the floor."
Sam looks at you, "Did it come after me now?"
You shrug, "I was thinking that, because isn't that what I did?" You look at Colby and he nods, "yes but the only thing is he didn't try to walk off."
Sam switches the box on, "What do you want with us?"
"... I want ... to know.."
"You want to know what?" Colby asks loudly, "did you take over y/n and Sam?"
"... Miss.. it ..."
"You miss what?" You ask, "Do you miss being alive?"
" ... alive ..."
"You are not welcome to touch us. You cannot control us." Sam says, "What do you want us to see?"
"... the... truth .. in here .."
"Were you murdered here?" Colby asks and it sounds like something bouncing down the steps, "Was that you making that noise?"
"... must get ... out..."
"Are you telling us to get out? Or do you want to get out?" Sam presses his fingers to his lips, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"
"... he's in.. here .."
"Who? Who is in here?" You ask staring at the box, "Can you tell us who is here with us?"
" ... John .. murder .."
"John and murder?" Colby looks at you guys, "Did John murder you? Were you murdered by John Agatha?"
"... liar .. he lies ..."
"Did John lie about your death?" You ask and step closer to Sam, "What did he do to you?"
"... tried to run.."
"Did you try and escape? Did he punish you for that?" Colby asks and jumps next to you when the door to the one room slams shut, "Who is here with us? Reveal your name to us."
"... John .. is mad..."
"Is he mad that we're here trying to find out what he did?" You ask and Sam looks at you, "I think we should stop."
You felt the need to keep going, "Can he come in here with us?"
"Y/n." Colby looks at you then to Sam, jumping as heavy footsteps come down the hallway, "Sam's right." Colby reaches to switch off the spirit box, but you stop him, "Just wait."
Sam nods at him, chewing on his lip as the footsteps start again.
"John Agatha. If you're here, tell us why you killed those people." You glance towards the door, only to snap your head back to the box,
"... they needed to die ..."
"No they didn't. They were sick." You argue and Sam pulls you back, "That's enough." You push away from him, "Sam. We're getting answers."
"No, you're arguing with something that we're unsure of. You don't know the power of this thing. " Sam runs a hand through his hair, "I think we're done. I don't like this-"
"Colby do you want to leave?" You look at Colby and he holds his hands up, "I think I'm with Sam on this one."
You roll your eyes, "Of course you do."
"Y/n. What the hell has gotten into you?" Sam looks at you shocked, "You have never acted this way during one of these and that's why we're done." He grabs your wrist, holding onto you, "We are done here."
"... no .."
Sam shakes his head and turns off the box, "I'm not doing this. We can talk about this at home."
You turn around, finding Colby no where in the room, "Colby?" You call out, "Sam. Colby is gone." Sam's heart starts to race, "Fuck, yo Colby?"
No answer.
"Fuck. Fuck. Come on." He hands you the camera, and turns on his flashlight, yelling for Colby as you make your way to the stairs.
"Careful, careful." Sam makes sure you make it down okay before stopping at the bottom, "You don't think he went to the basement did you?"
"Or where the sound came from? That's where I was feeling drawn to." You look around, sighing, "Fuck. Fuck. Colby?!"
You hear a loud thump come from where the first crash happened, "We have to." You look at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, yeah. I know." He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls you with him.
You both yell out for Colby, looking for any kind of sign, "Colby? Come on this isn't funny." Your voice kinda breaks as your fear builds up faster and faster.
"Colby. Come on man, we're leaving." Sam yells out and you stop when you see a metal cart laying on its side, old trays spilling out from the door that is open.
"He was right, that's what that sound was earlier when we started." Sam shines the flashlight on it and looks up, "Colby?"
"Wait." You stop Sam, "Isn't John's office over here?"
His eyes go wide, "Fuck, yeah it is." He turns towards the walkway, "Colby!?"
You perk up, "Wait. I think.." you whisper, "Yell out to him again."
"Colby?!"
"This way." You pull Sam down the hall, half preparing yourself for when Colby jumps out and scares you both, or at least you're hoping that's what he's doing.
"Colby? Please." You beg, hoping you can find him.
"If we just left when I said.."
You stop, cutting Sam off, "No. we aren't playing the blame game because right now our friend is lost and we have no idea where he is."
"Where who is?" Colby walks up, and you Sam let out a scream.
"Where the fuck did you go?" Sam yells, "You just up and left us dude. Why?"
"You guys were arguing and I thought I heard someone in the hallway, so I came out to see and then I was halfway down the steps. I thought I saw people, like teenagers run to the left and my first instinct was to just go." Colby explains, "I don't know dude. Really, I was running and then I was like wait, I'll get lost so I turned around and now we're here."
"You could have been hurt, Colby." You push his shoulder and he just shrugs.
"Sorry man." Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, "last I knew you were right behind us."
He nods, "it's fucking crazy. This place is a maze, and I don't mean physically either."
"Let's just.. go get the stuff and head out to the car." Sam sighs, pointing the camera to Colby, "We found him. He says there were people here but we aren't sure about anything, and I mean that about this whole entire place."
"I don't even know how to describe it other than what y/n said. Like that tired feeling and then I wasn't where I remember I was." Colby explains and you nod, "Yeah like you can tell what you're doing but you aren't focused on what you're doing."
"Alright well I think that's it for-" Sam stops talking and looks behind him, "There was just.. three knocks." He whips around looking at you guys when it happens again, "that.. that.."
"What the hell is that?" Colby whispers and you're pushed towards the way the office is, "Do not touch me. Do not touch any of us." You hold your hand up, "Fuck."
"Y/n. We need to go." Colby steps towards you and you shake your head, "we can't leave."
"We aren't arguing again, y/n." Sam walks towards you and when he goes to grab your hand, he's pushed back.
Colby snaps his head towards the hall, "Someone just said don't touch her." He looks at Sam, "I swear to god dude. A clear as day whisper like right behind me."
You feel something grab your hair and lift it off of your shoulder. You jump and brush a hand over, "Something just played with my hair."
"We're leaving."
As you go to collect the equipment, that's when things take a turn for the weird.
"So, maybe Colby was right. We heard things..." Sam says as he tries to control his breathing, "We aren't sure what it was exactly, right now we're just ducked down behind this desk thing."
"That's what I heard earlier, but you'd think if it was actual people they'd make a lot more noise than just footsteps, right?" Colby whispers leaning in towards you and Sam. Sam's grips on your hand tightens as the foot steps grow closer.
They stop abruptly and Colby stands up, "There's no one here." Sam pulls your arm, "Let's just make a run for it."
You guys book into the door, breathing heavy as Colby closes it with a slam. Sam pulls you away from the building, "you okay?"
You nod, "Yeah, yeah are you?" He nods and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly.
"That was fucking crazy." Colby says walking around you guys, "I've never experienced anything like that. Like we were affected in a way we can't really explain in depth."
"This doesn't feel finished, though." You pull away from Sam and he stares at you, "What?"
You look between him and Colby, "Exactly what I said."
And you meant that. You wanted to come back here, get more answers about this asylum. You knew more happened here than what people have said.
"You're going to really stand here, and tell me that you want to go back in there." Sam scoffs, "Even after what you had happen? What I had happen? Christ, y/n, Colby went missing for god knows how long."
He puts his hands on his head and spins around slowly, trying to comprehend as to why you'd want to.
"Because there's more in there, more stuff that people don't know and I want to be the one to find out exactly what it is." You point to the building and drop your hand, "If you don't want to then I'll come back myself."
"The fuck you will." Sam shakes his head, "Y/n. You could have been the one lost. You could have been the one lost in there, alone.. and I don't-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "You're not coming back here and I mean that."
"Why don't we -"
"Stay out of this, Colby." You and Sam say looking over at him.
He holds his hands up and walks over to the car while you and Sam still argue.
"You didn't know what you were doing, y/n. Okay? You could have easily got lost." Sam looks at you and you shrug, "But I didn't."
He stares at you a few moments before shaking his head, "The only reason you want to come back here is because whatever is on the other side of that door is making you want to come back."
You clench your jaw, knowing that he's right but since you're fighting, you don't want to let him win easy.
"That place changed you." Sam says lowly, "We have never, ever fought like this, we've never fought at all. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Never said it didn't, Sam." You mumble as you walk towards the car, getting into the back. You glance over, seeing Sam bend down slightly before kicking the rocks on the ground and walking over to get in the passenger seat of the car.
"Home?" Colby asks starting the car.
You and Sam both mumble a low, "Mhm." Colby takes a deep breath and starts to drive out of the gate, "I have to lock up. Don't kill each other." He gets out, jogging up to shut the gate.
Sam glances back at you and you look at him. He sighs, "I'm still mad, but I love you."
You try not to smile, "I love you."
Colby gets back into the car, "Did you guys makeup yet?" You both refuse to answer and he laughs sarcastically to himself, "Oh this is going to be such a wonderful quiet ride home."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"We have like half an hour left, do you want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?" Colby looks at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, that works." He looks back at you, "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah." You say lowly with a slight nod.
"Are we finally speaking to each other?" Colby acts surprised, "Wow. It's about time."
You roll your eyes and Sam scoffs, "I'm mad, that doesn't mean I don't care about her still."
You smile slightly, looking away from him so he doesn't see it. You get out of the car and go to walk in but Colby stops you, "We weren't us back there. Don't hold it over his head."
"Tell that to him." You mumble and he nods, "I plan to, trust me. I just got to you first." You laugh as you walk in to the store and Colby walks up to Sam, telling him the same thing he told you.
As you're standing there, looking at the snacks, you feel hands slides around your waist and pull you back, "You know.."
"What do I know?" You ask as your nails gently graze over his hands, "Even though you pissed me off.." his voice goes quiet, "The way you argued with the ghost was such a turn on."
You smirk and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Is that your way of saying you're sorry?" He bites his bottom lip as he looks at you, "I'll say it when we get home."
He winks at you and leans in to kiss you. You slide your fingers in his hair, humming against his lips slightly.
Colby walks up, "Now that's what I like to see."
You and Sam pull away and look at him. He has a big cheesy smirk on his face and you can't help but laugh, "What would we do without him?"
Colby buts in, "Oh i don't know, probably give each other the silent treatment until days from now."
Sam chuckles and sighs, "That wasn't any of us back there." You look up at him, "Yeah.. that was bad."
Colby nods, "I've never seen you act the way you did, y/n. Honestly it was kinda badass. Arguing with a potential demon."
Sam nods, looking down at you. You look up at him, "I learned from the best."
You grab your snacks and head out to the car, getting into the back as they get up front, "So now that this is no longer a quiet ride home, and I am no longer feeling awkward, can we please talk about what happened?"
"Mhm. Yeah sure." Sam mumbles as he stares down at his phone. Colby looks over at him before he starts driving, "What are you doing?"
You phone vibrates and you see a message from Sam, "Colby don't look at his phone. I beg you."
"Why can be so-" he reads over the message that was sent from Sam's phone, you've had me low key turned on this entire night, when we get home I'm going to show you just how sorry I am.
"Well, okay." Colby sits forward, "That awkward part is back."
You laugh, replying to Sam, just how are you going to do that?
Colby clears his throat, "Can we.." he laughs, "Can you stop sexting each other for one second so we can do the outro please?"
You sigh, resting your phone down on the seat next to you, "anything for princess Colby." He lays his hand under his chin, "As it should be."
You and Sam both laugh and he gets the camera rolling, "We are currently on our way home. Tonight was.." Sam sighs and looks at Colby, "I don't even know how to explain it."
"A big mess." You laugh and Colby sighs, "It was definitely something like that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we were .. taken over basically."
"Yeah, yeah no. That part was absolutely fucked up. I luckily didn't have it happen like y/n or Colby did, but it was still a surreal feeling to have people telling you that you zoned out with absolutely no recollection of it at all." Sam points his thumb back to you, "And then you got Mrs I like to argue with ghosts back here, but that's a story we'll post on our other channel, maybe, who knows, but we are done for tonight, like I said, it was a whirlwind of events and we are so excited for you guys to see what we experienced tonight at the Agatha Asylum."
"Drop a like if Mrs I like to argue with ghosts should be made into a sweatshirt." Colby gives a thumbs up and Sam yells, "Ayyyy yes. Y/n." He points the camera to you, "How would you like to have your own collection."
"That would be pretty sick." You smile and nod, "I actually like that a lot."
Sam points the camera to himself, "Well have to work on it. See you guys in the next one."
Sam cuts the camera off, "Mrs I like to argue with ghosts." He laughs and looks back at you, "I'm getting you a hoodie that says that."
You smile and nod, "I'll wear it everyday."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Have fun. I'll be down here editing away from all the noise." Colby says as he grabs his laptop off the counter.
Without any hesitation, Sam grabs your hand and up the stairs you go, laughing with him as you try to keep up.
You run into the room you share, falling on the bed with him on top of you, "You drive me insane, but always in the best way." His lips press to yours as his hand pulls your head close to him.
You drag his sweatshirt up his back, telling him you want it off. He leans up, slipping it off in one perfect motion and you pull him back down to kiss you.
He grinds himself against you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you." You moan slightly, shaking your head, "We weren't us." You cup his face, "This is us."
He smiles and kisses you again. You quickly grow into a heated make out, clawing the rest of each other clothes off and slipping under the blankets.
"If I ever yell at you like that again, just sacrifice me to the demons, babe." He chuckles slightly, brushing hair from your face before sliding his hand down to pull you closer.
"I'd be coming with you. We're inseparable." You nudge your nose against his and he nods, "Damn right we are."
He rolls on top of you, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy, "You were so.." he lets out a low moan as he slips his cock into you, "..fucking hot back there.."
He pushes his hips to meet yours, "You always amaze me."
You run your hand through his hair, biting down on your lip as he starts to thrust, "Fuck.." you whimper and look up at him, "I'd do anything to protect you."
"I'd die for you." He stares at you for a few seconds, still thrusting deep and slow, "I mean that wholeheartedly. You mean the most to me and I'd do anything to keep you safe."
You smile and lay a hand on his cheek, "I love you."
He kisses your lips, whispering a low, "I love you."
He leans up a little bit, "Now roll over so I can punish you for yelling at me." He winks and gives you a cocky smirk before pulling out. You smirk as your stomach does an excited flip.
You roll over onto your stomach and Sam's body is immediately on yours, his cock back in to where it was before, "I wanted to shut you up in anyway I could."
You moan as he thrusts slow, "Why didn't you?"
"Would have had to cut a lot of the footage out." Sam says lowly in your ear, "Plus I don't really want Colby seeing how pretty you look while you're gagging on my dick."
Your eyes roll back as he pushes all the way in, "Because you my love, are fucking gorgeous."
You grip the sheets, moaning as his hand slides around to your throat, squeezing as he whispers, "Or how pretty you look while I'm in between those legs.."
"S-Sam." You squeeze his cock with your walls, "Fuck, I-I'm so close."
"Go ahead, baby." Sam groans lowly, "Fuck, I'm not going to last much longer either." He hooks his thumb over your bottom jaw and you immediately suck.
He moans lowly, pounding into you, "That's my girl."
You moan around his thumb, trying to move your hips but you can't go anywhere. Your moans are growing louder as you reach your point, squeezing him as you claw at the sheets.
"Come on, baby." He pleads, "Cum for me."
You whimper and moan his name over and over again, letting your head fall back as you cum, "Fuck fuck fuck."
Sam suddenly pulls out, his cum spilling on your back, "Fuck, babe." you let your head fall forward, resting on the bed as your breathing is heavy.
"You okay?" Sam asks getting up to get you a towel. You look back at him, "Oh yeah. I'm so much better."
He smiles and shakes his head, "You know, I wonder how much of us arguing was actually caught on camera."
"Probably all of it, Sam. And if I'm being honest, it'll probably turn me on again." You roll over once he wipes you off and smirk up at him.
"You too, huh?" He smiles as he bites his bottom lip as you nod, "Uh huh. Very much." He pulls you up so you're standing in front of him, "I really don't want to yell at you again, but if it's something that'll get you going then.." he leans in, kissing you, "then we might just have to work something out."
You suddenly hear Colby yelling, "Oh shit. No fucking way!"
You quickly throw on clothes and run down, "What? What? What!?" Sam asks going over, you hand still in his, "Bro what the fuck is that?"
"That my friend is what was controlling us tonight." Colby turns the laptop towards you and Sam and you gasp, "That's exactly what I saw."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em
hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it
warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......
a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye
“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 
He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 
“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 
“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 
The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 
You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 
“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 
Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 
“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 
Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 
“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 
And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 
The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  
You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  
It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 
---------------------------------------------------
The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  
He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 
“Can we talk?” 
You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 
“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 
“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"
“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 
The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 
Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 
“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 
“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 
“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 
“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 
He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  
“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 
“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  
You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 
“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 
You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 
After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 
“Are you still mad at me?” 
He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 
“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 
“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 
He chuckles. 
“At an entirely different university.” 
“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”
While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 
“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 
“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 
Spencer sighs. 
“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 
You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 
“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.
Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 
“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 
But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.
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starberry-cupcake · 1 month
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This is a one chapter update because this chapter was 25 years long and I don't want my post to be also that long, even though you're all being super nice about it (thank you ♥).
previously, in harroweena the ninth:
this happened
now, chapter 6:
harrowbean wakes up and is taken somewhere in a wheelchair
we get no sleep in this ship
we get no face paint, no black robes, no sleep, no security from people who wanna suffocate you in your sleep, no explanations
lyctors need a union
as in unionization, not as in a combination of people, that they did when slurping their cavaliers
the person carrying her is very upset at everyone
turns out, she's a lyctor
her name is mercysomething
we have an ortus 2, a mercysomething and an augustine
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harrow mentions eyes again and says that Lyctors "kept their own faces, but the eyes they stole from someone else. You had been lucky that your own transition was not as startling"
Lucky, you say...
I don't know about that
anyway, this mercysomething is supposed to be the saint of joy
I'm assuming lyctors are given their names through the ancient art of sarcasm
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on that note
harrow: "if you had not of late become the Saint of Emesis"
me: wait, I gotta look something up real quick
me: yeah, that's funny
mercysomething is angry and in a hurry
a bunch of time is spent with mercysomething being angry and treating people like crap and being unpleasant
she's arguing with everyone she comes across and takes harrow to a hangar
yandere twin is sitting on a crate watching a necromancer make a ward with blood and bleeding to death in the process
harrow sits next to her and they are like sportscasters of blood-painted wards
according to the necrocasters, it's a ghost ward
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yandere twin updates harrow on the fact that they're at war and they've been attacked and they're down to three Old Lyctors and two Baby Lyctors
it would explain why mercysomething is upset all the time
mercysomething wants to take the emperor somewhere else and the guy commanding the ship doesn't want to let him leave
emperor guy comes in and kind of does this to mercysomething
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yandere twin and I are LIVING for all this pute/salseo/gossip/however you wanna call it
harrow isn't as interested
I complained in gideon because gideon wasn't interested in things I wanted to look into and now I'm gonna complain about harrow not being interested in Drama
emperor the fool says: "I know exactly who is behind this terrible blow, and they were fools to show their hand"
yandere twin and I
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when emperor guy sees the necromancer bleeding out he goes "for fuck's sake"
it's a quote, not me being funny ha ha
remember when I said this guy is a mess?
that's becoming exponentially more evident
I want to punch him in the face at all times
I don't know how people can be respectful to this dude
the reason there isn't any face paint for harrow in this ship is that the emperor uses it every morning to paint on his clown face
they've been alive like 1000 years or whatnot and they're all a fucking group project going off the rails
so emperor guy, mercysomething, not!dulcinea (now in a coffin package), yandere twin and harrow get in a ship inside the ship
a smaller ship inside the big ship where the emperor has been for the past bunch of years
the small ship has the blood ward for the ghosts
but, before going in, emperor the fool fixes the necro that's bleeding to death
I honestly think she would have preferred to just die
which, same, if he was my boss
necros also need to unionize
cavaliers more than anyone tbh
if cavaliers unionized, idk if there would be any lyctors
emperor guy and mercysomething argue about people they know and we don't yet know
and mercysomething was telling harrow previously that the former ninth was prettier than her (anastasia, heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me) and telling yandere twin the former third was prettier than her (cyrus? cyril? something like that)
which, absolutely juvenile behavior for someone who's like a 1000+ years of age or whatever
why would we care who she finds prettier????
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ANYWAY, throughout this I was once again thinking
nobody here has G & P initials
it's been driving me mad this whole time
gideon and harrow found that former lyctor quarters
and it said "ONE FLESH, ONE END. G. & P."
that was before the note with gideon's name in it was read
and all this time I was thinking those were a set of necro-cav from the previous lyctors
but nobody here has those initials
the only P is the cavalier of Ortus 2 and there's no G
which is DRIVING ME MAD
if the G is the previous Gideon, the one not!dulcinea mentioned, it would explain why there was a note that mentioned a Gideon in the quarters
it would not, however, explain who the fuck that other gideon is, who P is and why they aren't in the list with the other combos
augustine is a former fifth because his cav's last name is quinque
mercysomething's from the eighth because her cav's last name is oct, and because she's annoying to be around
ortus 2 is from the second, because his cav's last name is dve
cyril cyrus whatev is from the third because the cav is trinit and mercysomething mentioned him to yandere twin, who is from the third
ulysses is from the fourth because the cav is tetra
not!dulcinea is seventh because the cav was heptane and because it was a very important thing in the previous book, as we've established
anastasia (dancing bears, painted wings) is from the ninth because the cav is novenary and she was mentioned to harrow
cassiopeia must be sixth, because it's what I have left, but I don't recognize the root of the last name to make a clear parallel from the top of my head
the emperor's guardian is A.L.
I'm taking note of an emperor's guardian who isn't around anymore
could it be ice cube barbie???? idk fam, she's looking at him a lot
giving me magic knight rayearth vibes again
this but with backstabbing instead of love
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ANYWAY, all of this to point out that there's no G & P and it's driving me up the wall
now, to a very important thing
VERY IMPORTANT
for me, maybe it's just me
the enemies or whatever are called "remnants" and their leader apparently has been gone for "nearly 20 years"
this is me desperately making timelines with gideon's mom and gideon's birth and the 2 details I know about gideon's mom and her birth
you know what, I'm gonna quote, since I went to fetch it
"One day eighteen years ago, Gideon's mother had tumbled down the middle of the shaft in the drag chute and a battered hazard suit, like some moth drifting slowly down into the dark. The suit had been out of power for a couple of minutes. The woman landed brain-dead. All the battery power had been sucked away by a bio-container plugged into the suit, the kind you'd carry a transplant limb in, and inside that container was Gideon, only a day old."
I'm gonna just...put a pin on that that in the cork board
I don't know you guys, I'm just gonna
let me pin that
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I'm probably being wrong a lot more than what I'm getting right but I'm just telling you what goes through my mind, if I'm making a fool of myself, it's too late to act like I'm not a fool
I am also putting my clown paint on like the emperor
MOVING ON
harrow thinks the emperor talks in plural about her at one point and idk if that's the case tbh
we then get emperor guy explaining how they need to go to their safe space base with a name I can't remember
a fancy name very lord-of-the-rings-y
let's call it emperor's mojo dojo casa house
and to get there as quick as they need to, they have to cut through the River
the one with the ghosties and ghoulies
that's what the ward was for
if they went through regular means, it'd take too long and, doing it this way, they could be there super fast, but they need to get in the River and come out the other way in the right spot
and intact
so it's this situation
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so, in order to do that, they have to hold on to their souls and their cav souls and whatever they've got using the skills from the first test
I want to point out, once again, WHO PLANNED CANAAN HOUSE AS A TOOL TO GET LYCTORS TO LEARN THINGS?????
THEY WERE NOT DOING ALL THE TESTS
THEY WERE FIGHTING FOR THE KEYS
SOME DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WERE TESTS TO BEGIN WITH
JUDITH WAS LIVING IN LAW AND ORDER
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we didn't even get to all the tests, people started dropping like flies
because the emperor had one loose lyctor who thought she was in a telenovela
ANYWAY
the point is, if they drift too far while crossing the River, something else can come into their bodies
we did learn that, because it happened to duracell bunny nephew back in canaan house
but we learned it because mayonnaise uncle thought he was tough shit and ruined it, not because of the tests
harrow, doing her best, thinks "you felt alone in your head"
WHICH IS GREAT for our gideon notes
also, no camilla mention or appearance in this one
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(I'm having a lizzie bennet theme going on for Reasons for the time being)
so, we're leaving harrow and yandere twin trying to learn for the first time how to not die by crossing the River because the emperor plans things terribly and mercysomething is too preoccupied being upset at everything all the time
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socialistexan · 4 months
Text
It is so so so so so so obvious that some of y'all's "anti-zionism" is antisemetism, pure and simple, especially when y'all will gladly, EAGERLY, accept white supremacist conspiracy theories and straight up blood libel.
Like some of y'all were absolutely secretly chomping at the bit to be antisemetic, or had not unlearned the antisemetism your ancestors passed on to you (the constant suspicion I feel from so many goyiche white people is absolutely mind boggling), that you saw a way to both be on the forefront of a progressive cause where you either 1) don't have to think critically or 2) can be seen as progressive while also being antisemitic.
It's absolutely invalid to equate anti-zionism with antisemetism. That's obvious. Anyone that does that, I'd argue, is an antisemite themselves or has an agenda that requires hijacking Jewish suffering.
But, it's like, I've been an anti-zionist for well over a decade and a half at this point. There are relatives who I do not talk to any more because I had blow ups - full screaming matches that lasted hours - with them about Palestine back in 2010, I'm not new to this. I didn't jump on this bandwagon because it was the new progressive cause to jump on. Growing up Jewish, I was forced to have an opinion on this from a young fucking age. I've taken college classes, learned from older anti-zionist Jews, did so much independent studying on this.
And I've been accutely aware of the tropes and antisemitism that was around the periphery of anti-zionism, but it wasn't the core.
But now that a lot of people who are new to this are suddenly coming in to the movement and are either unaware or unwilling to learn how spot antisemetism while at the same time a bunch of antisemitic grifters and white supremacists have keyed in to the fact that there's now a bunch of (justifiably) angry people who haven't been properly educated on these subjects and can be easily misdirected from anti-zionism to old school judenhasen, y'know?
A version of the alt-right pipeline for progressives.
I'm just saying, please be more critical of these things. Don't spread misinformation and conspiracy theories. Don't prop up grifters and bad actors. Educate yourself. Separate Judaism from Zionism, they are not synonyms. Be against the illegitimate state of Israel and their occupation and ethnic cleansing, but also be critical about who and what is being said and how. Zionists will nitpick every little thing you say for the one thing they can delegitimize you on.
All you're doing is hurting the cause you're trying to support, and one that I've spent years of my life working for.
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bradshawsbitch · 1 year
Note
mess w/ roommate!bradley 😵‍💫😵‍💫 for blurbs:)
oof, okay we're starting off on a roommate spree here folks! i love it so much. I tweaked it a little bit because I'm just such a slut sap for first times 🥹
[ MESS ]  our muses are supposed to be cleaning up in the shower after sex,  but sender starts to finger receiver. 
warnings; female reader, afab!reader, roommates to lovers, smut 18+, fingering, masturbation, tit worship, thigh grinding, pet names
word count; 2.4K (did you say blurb?! god damn it I have a problem)
tagging some people; @roosterforme @mak-32 @lt-bradshaw @roleycoleyreccenter
"Bradley." you tried to keep your voice stern, shoulders squared, and eyes blazing with the power of every woman who had ever cleaned in her entire life. "We need to have a conversation."
"Alright, what's up, tiny?" Bradley looked up from the paper he was reading, the nickname he'd given you did nothing to alleviate the frustration you felt with your roommate. You weren't tiny, you were actually on the taller spectrum of it all, according to you. But not to chicken man.
"Have you--" you had to cut yourself off, taking a deep breath to make sure you didn't accidentally hurt any feelings here. "Has anyone ever taught you how to properly clean a bathroom? Because I distinctly remember that we said yesterday that I would take the kitchen, and you would take the bathroom." Bradley had skirted that particular chore one too many times.
"I don't follow," Bradley furrowed his brows and put his paper down beside him.
"There's still your tiny facial hair remnants in the sink! And don't get me started on the shower! Did you even scrub the shower walls?" Bradley blinked at you. There truly was nothing behind those big brown eyes, huh? Just sawdust and jet fuel.
"Tell me who to contact to file a complaint about your lack of cleaning knowledge." you put your hand on one hip, unfortunately taking the well known stance of a woman scorned.
Bradley licked his lips before looking down at his lap. You thought you knew what might come next. As he looked up, there was a perfect iteration of a hurt expression on his face, those same brown eyes now misty and puppy-like.
"My mom--"
"Oh, for fuck's sake Bradshaw, you already pulled that card this week. Ain't no excuses for being in your mid thirties and not knowing how to clean your own damn bathroom!" try to get out of that one huh, feminist king. See how you'll chicken your way out of that.
You figured Bradley might take offense, or at least start arguing with you. He'd been well known for his short fuse. To your great surprise, those big eyes that had just been misty widened initially in shock at your brusque statement, before his head tipped back and a roaring laughter eased from his throat.
"Oh god, tiny - you're just perfect, aren't you? You're right. I should know better," he now moved to stand, mirth playing in his eyes as he took a few steps forward until he - to your great annoyance - towered over you.
"I know this is not supposed to be your job then," he murmured softly, using his hand to make your stubborn gaze meet his "but would you be so kind as to show me your preference in making our bathroom squeaky clean then, doll?" he was smirking now.
God damn naval aviator knew he was hot. It irked you that you could not say that he didn't affect you. His little pet names, his stupid broad shoulders, his ridiculous sun kissed skin, the way he always smelled so good the way he--
"C'mon tiny, we got a tight schedule now!" Bradley called you out of your dazed state, and you huffed as you followed him towards your spacious shared bathroom.
"Alright, sweets, talk to me." He talked as if you were his god damn backseater, trying to blow up the enemy toilet. "What's the first step?"
Rolling your eyes, you started to peel off your socks and shorts. "Tiny!" Bradley's eyes went wide before he averted his gaze promptly.
"Oh, c'mon, Bradshaw, don't tell me you're in your mid thirties and have yet to see a woman in underwear," you smirked "I'm gonna walk you through a deep cleaning. Don't want to ruin my clothes. Tends to get a little wet,"
If Rooster's lips wobbled at your use of the word 'wet', you chose to ignore his childish quirk.
"But if you want to ruin your Grateful Dead shirt by getting cleaning shit on it, fine by me," you shrugged before ridding yourself of your top, leaving you in a matching black panty and bra set. They were plain, nothing sexy about them at all.
Swiftly pulling out the cleaning supplies, you started ordering your roommate around the bathroom as the two of you started to hose down the room. You hadn't made it far in your mission to scrub the sink before you felt a spray of water against your back.
Turning around, you were met by a mischievous looking Bradley, the shower head pointed straight at you. If looks could kill, you're sure Bradley would have a paper cut by now. Maybe a bruise.
"Rooster!" you tried sounding stern, but it came out more as a tired whine. "Hey, I'm sorry, Tiny - c'mere!" Bradley must've sensed you were starting to get fed up, because he opened his arms to you. Stupid naked, muscly chest looking inviting and warm as hell. You stepped into the shower, wrapping your arms around Bradley's waist as he maneouvered the shower head back into it's position on the wall.
It seemed like neither of you cared that the warm water was now washing over the both of you, your underwear becoming soaked. You'd always wondered what it would be like to shower with your roommate, but you never envisioned this scenario. In your scenario there were even less clothing, and much more moaning.
It wasn't always easy, breezy (but definitely beautiful) living with Bradley - in spite of the fact that he lacked competence in bathroom cleaning, he made up for it in every other aspect of householding and in his caring nature.
"This feels good, Tiny," Bradley murmured against the top of your head as he held you. "Told you it'd get wet," you mumbled against his skin, your lips currently smushed against his sternum. You could feel his chest rumbling as he chuckled, his large hands leaving their safe spot in your embrace. They started gently caressing your sides, before one hand again found it's place on your chin - tilting your head softly upwards.
Looking into Rooster's brown eyes, there was no twinkle of mischief left, nor confusion or mistyness - you weren't quite sure what this look was. As his other palm cradled your jaw and a portion of your neck, it dawned on you. Before you could name the emotion, Bradley's lips were upon yours in a wet kiss.
His lips moved slowly against yours, as if he was giving you the option to either engage or leave. A soft noise left your throat as you pushed up on your toes, wanting to feel more of him. The grip he had had on your chin eased, that hand moving to grip at your hip to keep your body steadily pressed against his.
"Wanted to feel you like this for fuckin' ever, Tiny," Bradley groaned as you took a gasping breath, his lips kissing down your throat. "Bradley--" you whined, eyes fluttering shut as his skilled hand rubbed at your ribs, slowly inching up towards the underside of your breasts.
"Is this okay, doll?" he breathed against your ear, his mustache tickling slightly against your earlobe.
"So okay, Rooster - oh god," you moaned softly as his thumb graced the swell of your breast, applying just enough pressure to send anticipatory waves of pleasure rolling through you.
"Please, I-- more," you whimpered, your hands tangling into Rooster's damp locks, tugging slightly - eliciting a rough groan from him. "More of what, doll? Tell me," his voice was husky against your throat as he switched sides, tongue soothing where his teeth nipped and his lips latched on to suck marks onto your soft skin.
"You-- Please!" his hand was still teasing the underside of your breasts, and you were squirming against his warm body, trying to make him fucking grab them already. You needed his hands on you.
"Words, sweetheart," he sounded pleased, a smile forming against your skin. Yanking his hair a little harsher, you licked your lips as the water cascaded down Rooster's well muscled upper body.
"I need your hands on my fucking tits, Bradley," you commanded, a certain bite to your tone that had a moan rolling off of Bradley's parted lips. Your words seemed to have triggered something in your roommate, because he promptly pressed you against the cool tiles of the shower wall. Not before his one hand had swiftly undone the clasp of your bra, flinging the wet garment to the floor.
"Such lovely fucking tits," Bradley groaned, eyes transfixed on your naked breasts as his large hands covered them, his fingers squeezing and kneading in unison. Letting your head fall back against the wall, you let out a long, relieved moan at the stimulation. Bradley whispered out a breathless 'Fuck' as his thumbs rolled over your nipples, taking in how well the soft flesh looked squeezed in his hands.
"Fuckin' dreamt of these tits for so fucking long," Bradley confessed, leaning down to let his warm tongue circle over the now pert nipples. "Wanted to hold them, lick them, suck them-" at the last word he let his lips enclose around your nipple to suck, making you cry out - the sound echoing over the sound of rushing water.
"Fuck them," Bradley growled as he put more pressure into his kneading movements. At this he looked into your eyes, pressing his body up against yours, his thigh slotted between your slightly parted legs.
"Bradley," you whimpered, not in a state of mind to say much else, and the fire it ignited within those brown eyes had you whining in pleasure again, his thigh pressing against your clothed core. "Wanted to make you mine for so fucking long," Rooster continued, letting his lips meet yours for a hard kiss.
"God, make me yours, Rooster," you whined, grinding down against his large thigh, needing the heat he'd started in you satiated.
"Fuck, Tiny!" he rutted his pelvis against your own thigh, and you could feel how hard he was against you.
"C'mon baby, tell me what you need," your roommate murmured before he once again leaned down to lick and suck at your breasts, relishing in finally getting to drown in their supple flesh.
Who knew Bradley was a tits man?
"Need your hands," they were everywhere and nowhere all at once, you needed them to bring you more pleasure.
"Need my hands, hm? D'you need them here, sweets - is that it?" his left palm had left it's perch on your breast, reaching between your bodies to cup against your soaked pussy. A soft mewl left your parted lips as you nodded fervently.
"Yes! Please, Bradley," you were practically begging for him now, but you found you didn't care.
"Sweet girl... fuck - I'll take care of you," Bradley's voice sounded a little wrecked as his fingers slid underneath the soaked cotton of your panties, his fingers rubbing against your core. Lifting your leg, you held it against Bradley's thigh to give him easier access, your hands gripping on to his shoulders as he let his cupped hand, two middle fingers, glide through your folds over and over again.
At the sensation of one of his fingers slipping into your welcoming heat, you let out a gasp - tightly followed by a moan. Fuck, even his fingers were big. Your hips started moving on their own accord, slowly swivelling against Bradley's hand. His other hand had begun pushing at his wet underwear, only managing to pull them to rest past his hips - successfully freeing his hard cock.
"You drive me crazy, Tiny - I've heard you touch yourself through the walls for so fucking long. Your little gasps and moans," he groaned, adding another finger to your hole, fucking them slowly in and out of you as the heel of his thumb dragged against your clit.
"You know why I call you Tiny, baby?" you shook your head, delirious with pleasure as you noticed Bradley had wrapped his other hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, the thick tip of him rubbing slightly against your abdomen.
"'Cause of your tiny fucking gorgeous moans as you try to keep quiet," Rooster moaned loudly as he pressed his cock harder into your skin for friction "Try to keep from moaning my name, huh?"
Nodding your head, you were properly grinding down onto Bradley's fingers now, fucking yourself against his palm as you bit your lip. "Yes, Bradley! I thought of you," you whined out, finally opening your eyes to look at him, soft moans and gaspy breaths rolling from your parted lips onto his as he pressed his forehead onto your.
"You gonna cum for me, Tiny? Gonna moan my name as you fuck yourself on my fingers?" brows pinched together, nodding against his forehead, small mewls and moans left you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers meeting your bucking hips as they curved inside of you. The sound of him fisting his cock against your skin adding to the sensuality of it all.
"Bradley," his name was a drawn out moan "I'm gonna cum so hard on your fingers," you mewled out, pressing your tits against his hard chest. He didn't speed up his movements at your warning, but kept the pace and angle at the almost exact position of where they had been when you uttered the words.
"Cum for me." Bradley spoke against your lips "Look at me." he commanded, brown eyes meeting yours as you gasped, hips grinding hard against the palm of his hand before you let out a tiny moan of his name, euphoria washing over you as your body convulsed from the pleasure your roommate was giving you.
Bradley let out a soft curse, his fingers still fucking into you as he moaned your name, hips stuttering as he fucked his own hand too, his cum coating your hips and thighs as he shot his load over you. Slowly easing his two fingers out of you, you whimpered at the sensitivity, letting your arms wind around his neck as you buried your face in his skin.
"Bradley..." you voice was small, and his strong arms circled around your waist, hands resting on your ribs as he held you. "S'okay Tiny, I've got you," he smiled, kissing the top of your head.
"I've got you," he repeated, softly caressing your skin.
"We're gonna have to clean this up..."
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mysticficti0n · 1 year
Text
All my Attention part 3
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warnings- swearing, mentions of a dildo, sexual tension, kissing, quite fluffy
words- 3.1k
If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series
a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this part has taken a while- I'm on holiday atm so I probably wont be posting till I'm home BUT I didn't want you to be without, also fucking thank you all so much for the response to the first and second part! I can't believe the response to it, I could've cried because im a baby , love you all 🤍
(also to the people who've sent requests they will be coming soon!)
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backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?
"exactly what I said- we can't keep doing the same thing at every show" Georg spoke shovelling eggs into his mouth, the band and our runners, managers, directors, and everyone else who I didn't know exactly what they did for us... were all sat on tables eating breakfast before rehearsal "because I'm sorry if we go on tour I wont wanna blow my brain out because i'm playing by your side for the millionth time"
"yeah but there's a thing called a set list, we have to stick with it otherwise" Bill leaned closer into the table facing all of us "otherwise we'd get shit and we all know how Felix will react- we all remember last time" he had a point, Felix as nice as he can act is a massive cock, once in a performance we decided to all go to the front of that stage to say goodnight- but Felix didn't like that and he ended up cancelling our next 3 shows to 'teach us a lesson'
"even so" the bassist grumbled, the conversation fell short as we all continued to eat, I had a bowl of granola, greek yogurt, raspberries and strawberries, soon the scrapping of a chair pulled me from eating my breakfast, I looked up to see Tom in a huge black shirt and basketball shorts "hungry?" Georg joked seeing the pile of food on his friends plate
"a bit" Tom laughed grabbing part of a waffle "whats that?" he spoke looking at me, that was the first time he spoke to me since what happened only an hour before, I think we were both in a shock state still, but I also couldn't deny how good it felt
"granola, yogurt and fruit" I spoke back digging my spoon into the mix and pulling it back so he could have a taste, he bent forward taking the food and hummed
"Tha actuwally gwood" he spoke mouth still full
"ew Thomas swallow for fucks sake!" I spat seeing him nearly choke the food back up "Tom!" I called pushing myself away from the table "whats wrong with you" I laughed I look to see the rest of the boys laughing as well at his stupidity
"we can't go anywhere nice with you two" Bill commented throwing a napkin to his brother who wiped his mouth and finished his laugh
"sorry- I don't know why that was so funny to hear you say" he snorted, I finally sat back in my place next to Gustav who was eating his food with a smile
"all I said was swallow your food" I argued back looking at the guitarist
"normally me saying that to girls-" I rolled my eyes at his words but everyone else chuckled along, after another half an hour (mostly so Tom could finish his monstrous plate) we were bringing our bags down from the hotel room to put in the bus, we all got in the lift which I don't think was made for 5 people, and 2 of those 5 being over six foot tall
"can you move over I can't fucking breath" I spoke shoving Bill back bit
"now I can't breath you cunt!" Bill called back pushing me back laughing, soon the intercom spoke and the doors opened and I made my way out but was soon tackled by the black haired singer
"BILL WHAT THE FUCK" I shouted with a laugh, I crawled from his grip and began running away seeing him get up to and following my movement "AHHH!" I screamed turning a corner and then slipping past a cleaner cart
"Y/N COME HERE!" I herd Tom voice shout as I sprinted to him with his twin hot on my tail, I watched him open his hotel room and I ran as quick as I could into it and slammed the door spitting out a chuckle hearing the boy hit the door
"BITCH!" Bill sang followed by his own laugh and steps faded away from the door, I sat on Tom's bed and lay my head back into the sheets catching my breath hearing the door open again
"you good now?" He asked smiling at me "I didn't realise you were that fast- I swear you weren't when we were kids"
"excuse me! people change" I answered kicking him slightly, he grabbed my ankle stopping me from moving anymore- I melted at his touch which wasn't a usual thing
"mhm, you changed in a good way babe don't worry about it" he flirted looking down at me the smile changing into a smirk
"you're in a very odd mood today mr Kaulitz" I spoke sitting myself as he let go of my ankle
"only for you-" he leant down, pressing his head on mine "and if I remember properly, who moaned when we kissed earlier? hum?" his hand was now resting on the base of my neck "who was it Y/n?"
"I don't know Tom" I answered seeing him bite his lip at my words "maybe you imagined it?" we always played around, flirting but this was different... very different
"I have a fucking good imagination then don't I?" Tom pulled away slightly, his his fingers brushed my skin as he let go and he held my chin, lifting my face to look up to him "....I prefer looking at you like this" I blushed at his words, they made me feel soft
"bet you say that to all the girls" he seethed rolling his eyes
"only the special ones...and you're really special!"
"way to ruin a mood" I huffed
"I'm joking Y/n/n, you just look hot below me ts'all" his hand held me tighter and he bent to reach my lips, he pressed hard humming into the feeling and sucked my bottom lip causing me to have to hold back any noise I threatened to make as I didn't want a repeat of earlier "I better get packing" he spoke pulling back creasing my cheek with his thumb leaving me with a unfulfilled feeling
"yeah.." I pouted, he looked back down at me and grinned
"god don't look at me like that... fuck- stop now, I've gotta pack" I stood with him as he turned to grab a tossed shirt from the floor, his hand glided down my thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps- he knew what he was doing, making me blush and shudder as his hand left me "oopsie"
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we all sat backstage kicking our heals as the crowd arrived, but we also knew the crowd was special- our families were watching us tonight, I decided I'd wear a more appropriate outfit (not like my family hadn't seen pictures of me in mini-skirts and tube tops saying 'pouty') I looked alot like Tom, my baggy jeans hanging around my hips with a matching tank top to him "5 minuets!" a runner called making us all rise from our places
"excited?" Georg smiled shoving me lightly
"I can't wait" I spoke pinning around to the music that began, Bill looked back at me with a smile followed by a wink
"3...2...1" Felix called and Tom, Bill entered the stage erring a eruption from the crowd "go!" Georg and I walked on and smiled seeing the sea of fans watching us with grins plastering their faces and finally Gustav entered
"GOOD EVENING TRIER" Bill called holding the mic close "ARE YOU EXCITED!" though the lights were blinding I could make out the shapes of bodies from my place "ugh we have a show n' a half for you all tonight, and this show is very special to us- one, this is our last show here in the lovely Trier and- most importantly our biggest fans are here tonight" the lights moved to the box above the crowd and for the first time in weeks I saw them: mom, dad, Stella, the Kaulitz, Listing and Schäfer family, I nearly cried waving to them and blowing them kisses "so tonight is going to be the best show we've ever done guys! ARE YOU READY" I watched as my family cheered and little Stella clapped her hands. Tom's guitar began the start of Scream followed by Gustav and Bill ran back to main stage, the crowd danced and jumped along "SCREAM" they called back to us at every chorus making me laugh.
The night carried on and everything was going amazingly, and it came time for me to take centre stage, I brought my mic and herd people call my name "so- this is our newest piece of music, I originally wrote when I was in a very bad place, and as you all know I'm back up singer so usually I don't perform up here- so close to everyone so I'm a little nervous but.. but it means a lot to me so.. this is 'please don't jump'" claps filled the room and Tom joined me giving me a nod as he plucked away followed by Gustav and Georg, Bill was in the corner sipping a water watching me like a proud dad
I let my self get lost in the music, stomping my feet and twirling around "don't let memories go! of me and you" I sang watching my family stare in awe, I began up stage onto the platform where I stood teetering on the edge, all lights went off besides the one on me "PLEASE DON'T JUMP! DON'T JUMP, AND IF ALL THAT CAN'T HOLD YOU BACK, THEN I'LL JUMP FOR YOU" I finished bowing to the crowd who burst out with claps, screams and calls making me jump at the sudden noise
"Y/N Y/N Y/N!" people began to chant making me well up, Gustav ran up the platform steps holding my hand gently so I could get down the steps as it was tricky in platforms, hand in hand we met with Tom who smiled widely mouthing 'they're proud' I looked to see my mom whistling, soon the five of us stood at the tip of that walkway, people reached for us, calling us all over
"THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!" we all shouted bowing once more as the light darkened, we all walked off and back to our room where there were drinks set out and towel "shit Im so thirsty" Georg spoke grabbing the bottle and cracking it open as we all took our first proper breath and relaxed
"erm- sorry I know you got off stage but someones hear" Gayle, my runner spoke holding the door open a little more
"BABA!" a small voice called, I looked down to see Stella dressed in a Tokio Hotel shirt and orange leggings running toward me, her blonde hair tied into piggy tails
"STELLA!" I cried falling to my knees pulling her into my arms "oh my god I missed you so much" I whispered into her neck, her bright eyes looked into mine and I couldn't let go of her, I pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks
"Oh my- Y/n dear! another voice came in and I snapped my head to see my mother, tear stained face reaching for me, I watched as Stella ran onto Gustav who picked her up hugging her tightly and I ran to my mom who was closely followed by the rest of our families "sunshine I missed you!"
"I missed you too mom" I cried as she stroked my hair away from my face, she let go and I turned to see my dad who had Tom in a bro-hug
"aww hello Poppy!" he spoke, I nearly fell apart hearing my nickname again, and he grabbed me into the hug "aw that was amazing kids" he spoke letting go of us, I stood speaking with them until I herd the voice of my sister
"Tommy!" she laughed and everyones faces snapped to her
"SHE SAID MY NAME!" The dreadheaded boy called lifting her into his arms and tickling her "ME BEFORE BILL!" he danced seeing her smile
"Hey! Stella I thought you liked me more!" Bill huffed squishing the cheeks of her face
"am I the better twin?...yeah! I know" Tom scoffed bouncing her on his hip, our families laughed and all began hugging each other
"darlings that show was fantastic and the crowd! I couldn't believe it" Simone, the twins mom smiled "I couldn't be more proud"
"thanks mom" Bill hugged pressing a kiss to her cheek "wait..erm hold on!" we all watched as the singer ran out calling for something, I turned to see Stella smiling and reaching for all the boys, Tom, Georg and Gustav were sat on the floor singing songs and twirling her around, the song finished and Stella did a bow making the boys laugh at her antics
"Baba!" the little blonde called reaching for me, Tom realised and quickly scooped her up so she was lying on her tummy with her arms out she began airplane sounds (but kept interrupting herself with her chuckles) "Brrrrrrrrr!" she grinned showing her two small teeth
"aww my baby airplane" I spoke reaching for her as Tom got closer, the two reached me and I took my sister from his arms spinning her while pressing a kiss to her cheek again "you're a very cute plane Stella"
"Plane!" she repeated getting a 'yeah a plane' from the guitarist who couldn't stop smiling
"Okay... everyone come stand over here were getting a photo!" Bill came back in grabbing his family, the line up was the Kaulitz' far left, then my family the Y/l/n's, then the Schäfer's and finally Listing's "We want a few!" Bill called to the person holding the camera
"1...2....3" everyone did a wide smile, even Stella knew what was going on "perfect, do you want another one of these then we can do different stuff like.. the point?" its like a lightbulb went off it the taller twins head
"okay yes... then the point, then serious faces, then one with us 5 a bit more infront of our families, then on chairs" he rambles while setting us all back out for the next 3000 photo's we'd be taking
I don't think I've ever herd the numbers 1,2 and 3 said so much in my life but after half an hour the pictures were finally done and in fairness they looked great "well we best get going" Christine, Georg's mom spoke grabbing her bag
"oh.." we began before Simone whispered something to her husband
"why don't you all come stay round ours? we can have a family night, drinks, games, food" me and the band cheered, quickly grabbing our stuff and getting ready to walk out- we knew that today being a day show, fans would be waiting for us- we decided the safest option was to give our families over to security along with our bags and walk out on our own
"okay Stella we'll see you in a little while okay?" I hugged her once more before giving her over to dad who was carrying her out, we waited till we knew they were in their cars and I came the time we'd be walking out, with one last check of the room we began outside, screams filled our ears, people threw flowers to us, cards, papers and... thongs- but we picked the flowers up. a few people grabbed at my clothing but besides that it was a safe 3 minuet walk from the building to the bus
"they were loud" Gustav spoke getting into his favourite seat, at the very back on the left "Georg come sit!" he called to the bassist who jumped through the seats, leaving Bill who liked sitting in the front then me and Tom sat in the middle two seats
"god I fucking loved that show" I spoke belting myself in, Tom did the same and our hands brushed- its not something that many would really worry about, it was an accident.. but I could help go hot at the feeling
"it was so good, I feel like we'll be in Felix's good books" the dreaded boy spoke getting a nod from the band, we finally began the drive home, it would only take around an hour and a half so I got myself comfy which meant me resting my legs over Tom- this was a normal thing as usually sometime around the trip we'd switch and I can accidentally put my cold drink on his legs while he's asleep definitely not making him yelp- no not at all...
"can you take my shoes off, you're closer" I spoke tapping his shoulder and with a huff he began unlacing the platforms, I sighed at the feeling of my feet going light and not having to lug those shoes around any more "thanks bab" I called leaning my head back, Tom got comfy to, scooting deeper into the seat and his hands lay on my legs drawing small shapes and humming a long to whatever song was on the radio
"wanna know something crazy?" He asked looking over at me to which I nodded "I haven't fucked a girl since Tuesday, and its Friday now" I pretend to be shocked, slapping my hands to my face
"holy shit! that is crazy!" he rolled his eyes "I can't even remember when I last fucked someone- probably around my birthday" I sighed slightly annoyed, not that I'm some sex freak who needs to be constantly fucked to live but... my birthday is in February and its now July
"damn... how do you go that long?" Georg spoke uncrossing his arms, being genuinely interested
"Notta clue... I-"
"Y/n I know whats in the back draw in your room" Bill turned showing a sinister smile
"Bill!" I called knowing exactly what he was on about
"ooo" the boys cooed making me go red, Bill laughed even harder pointing at my face "aww! she's embarrassed about her dil-"
"BILL SHUT IT!" I shouted flinging my empty water bottle at him making him cackle throwing his pillow at me
"IT'S BLACK!" He called and the 4 boys Burt out laughing again spluttering words and coughing at how much they were laughing
"oh my god you are all dicks!" I groaned trying to push myself as far back into my seat as I could, I even took my legs down from Tom who I could realised but I was way to embarrassed to give him a 'look'
┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑
"he traffic isn't moving so were going to be a little later to the Kaulitz" Gregory our driver spoke facing us
"ugh" we all collectively sighed, its been over 30 minuets of just stand-still traffic, cars horns went off but nothing was moving and being a warm day in a quite packed van it was getting hot
we'd moved past the dildo conversation thanks to Tom who made a fool of himself by spilling water all down his shirt- I did wonder though, was it on purpose? to take away the attention from me... but anyways whatever it was, or even just it was an accident- my legs were back on his and he continued to draw little shapes
"I'm going to sleep" Bill spoke looking back to which we gave a nod, by we I mean me and Tom as the other two fell asleep a few minuets back, the van sound turned quiet as the radio was turned off
"wanna play a game?" Tom spoke quietly
"sure, which game?" I asked seeing a little grin appear to his face
"erm... eye spy?"
265 notes · View notes
sanemisstalker · 9 months
Text
꒰ა BIRTHRIGHT໒꒱
Douma makes your birthday a little easier.
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CW// NSFW // FEM/ AFAB/ BREASTED READER / MAJOR DEPRESSIVE EPISODE/ This was very clearly written by someone going through it/ DISCUSSION OF AN ED/ Toxic Masculinity/ Toxic relationships/ Emotional Negligence / Dub-Con/ Forced Cuckholding/ BDSM dynamics/ Mentions of Self Harm/ Intentional Sexual Self Harm/ Intentional Self-Destruction. (Please let me know if I missed any)
I feel the urge to throw in an extra warning here and say that none of the following is inherently lucrative. I think I'm going through a depressive episode, and this was written before I realized. Please keep that in mind going forward. We can have a discussion about the ethics of this at a later date.
You kept your head tucked down as they sang. A ploy smile wide and rife with forced giggles. Never, did the world feel less real than in that moment. There was always someone out of tune, always someone who would sigh on your behalf. Always someone with a hand placed firmly on your shoulder to show how much they cared.
Always someone who stood next to you, who the group considered your most favourite person. You were pretty sure that's what he was supposed to be.
Nobody sounds genuine when they sing happy birthday, you fought with yourself to reason away the feeling inside of you. The person beside you. It's always awkward, right?
If you'd seen yourself hanging up the decorations, icing the red velvet cake, and worrying about everyone's dietary needs, you probably would've found it cute. Admirable, even, the level of dedication to the bit of it all. To the classics of a 'birthday party'.
Mitsuri had found it cute, after all. As did Shinobu.
Nobody cares if you're cute, act grown.
The taunts from a meaner part of you, a more vapid part, were beginning to call your smile into question. Not to any of your friends, though. Only him.
You didn't want to cry about fucking happy birthday, but he was right next to you, and every step of the way, every chance he got, he'd made all of those cute things feel very immature. Not even your barely there outfit, the one you wore to feel better about yourself, had felt all there.
'It's not weird to be twenty, I don't get why you're so stressed.'
Twenty. The number repeated in your head. Not old enough to drink. Not young enough to fuck. An insecure thought, but he was next to you. And every waning word of happy birthday felt like points off your scale. Points off from whatever else you meant to him.
Fuck. me. You thought, blowing out the candles as the choir finished. They all cheered and clapped. Kyojuro had lifted his hand from your shoulder, and Mitsuri had begun to apologize for how out of sync she was. Akaza looked as annoyed as he did when the song had started.
You turned to your right and looked up at Giyu. He smiled down at you and then averted his eyes. You turned back to your friends with no less convincing a smile.
Fuck. Me. You pleaded.
"I hate it no less every time." You joked, like this wasn't the first time people had done this for you since you were seven. They all laughed like you were normal. Laughed like having everyone near and dear to you in that same room didn't terrify you.
"I want the first slice!" Mitsuri rushed out, pressing her hands to her chest.
"No way, The birthday girl always gets the first slice!" Kyojuro argued.
"Since when? What kind of tradition is that?!" Mitsuri sputtered. Tengen shook his head from beside her.
"My family always served the birthday person last... but I think since you prepared this yourself, different traditions are in order!" Tengen reasoned.
"I agree." Gyokko piped up, dropping his lipstick back into his bag. It was probably his fifth reapplication of the hour. "Besides, enough arguing, I want to get to the gifts! You're going to like mine the best!"
"Tough talk. I'm going to blow you out of the water, fish boy." Sanemi hissed. Gyokko's jaw dropped in mock shock, very clearly unafraid of the taunt. You wished you had such confidence in your skill.
Did I even make a wish? You laughed a little at the realization.
"Y/N, do you want to cut the cake?" Giyuu asked, his voice forcing you back to the moment. You nodded at him, suddenly considering the weight of how embarassing it was going to be to cut the cake evenly between so many people-
How embarassing it was going to be to do it infront of Giyu, and how awful his eyes would feel judging your ability to fraction.
In the end it worked fine, though Akaza and Rengoku argued over who had the larger piece. You'd made a rather large cake to begin with. Enough for the smallest bit to go to waste if need be-
They left you a spot next to Giyu on the couch, again. It was thoughtful, you reminded yourself. They wanted you to sit next to your boyfriend, because who wouldn't on such an occasion?
Mitsuri and Obanai tossed you knowing glances as you sat in silence beside him. You were grateful you had so many friends. Sometimes, they didn't notice when you were quiet. Or when you spoke.
They never did with Giyu, either.
Gyokko's gift had been your favourite. A hand made mug, without a fish on it. How thoughtful. Mitsuri's handmade sweater was better, but you knew Gyokko's ego couldn't handle such a blow.
Giyu's was your real favourite. Not intentionally. You'd really hoped it wouldn't have been, but it had been a long time since you'd stopped trying to reason with how the man made you feel.
He wasn't your boyfriend, anymore. He hadn't been for a while, now, even if nobody knew. So maybe it stung worse when his gift was so lack luster. Maybe it felt like penance- you didn't quite know, but you were really happy it was so... thoughtless.
Even if he thought it wasn't. Maybe he did. You didn't know anything about him anymore. Even if he was going to be staying his third night on your living room couch instead of in your bed-
Even if he'd spent the last year of your life making you a worse version of yourself to fit his whims. Unintentional or not, you didn't recognize the hands that pulled the wrapping paper off the thousand piece puzzle.
You broke up with him, you reminded yourself, stop wallowing. It's unbecoming for a woman your age.
You couldn't think about how he treated you while others were over. You'd snap on the spot. Either burst into tears or burst at the seams, and you weren't interested in finding out the difference.
When Muzan and Douma arrived, a (shared) gift of yet another cardigan in tow, all you joked about was how they were an hour late, and it was probably because they were fucking. Though Muzan assured you all it wasn't, Douma couldn't help but maintain the gag for the remainder of the night.
Giyu found it funny, you noted. Like he should. You laughed, like you should, and Mitsuri and Obanai would toss you another glance, you'd thank everyone else for their cardigans, and for being blind, like they should.
Giyu been so mean the whole time. Not even mean like boys like Muzan were normally mean. Not mean like boys like Tengen-
"Y/N, are you alright?" The question had been deafening. You turned to look, knowing the voice you hoped it was hadn't been the asker.
It was Douma. He'd taken Giyu's place beside you.
You didn't know him, but you knew off him. One of Muzan's many friends with unfortunate traits. One of the ones you never really grew to get a long with no matter how many times you sat next to him in the dining hall.
Striking eyes pondered yours, something just shy of sincerity hanging from his long lashes. His blonde hair was pulled back into a stump at the base of his neck. His hoodie dangled off his shoulder. You wondered how he wasn't sweating- because you suddenly were.
"Oh, Douma- yeah- I'm-"
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Even with your convictions, your word to Giyu that things were going to be normal, your assurances to Mitsuri that you wouldn't need her to rescue you if things got rough, you swore it... It all wasn't quite enough.
It was just a tear. Your voice hadn't even broken, your lip hadn't wobbled. You didn't even feel the trademark dryness in your throat.
It just spilled. Right down your cheek and onto your bare thigh.
Your hand rushed to wipe it away, laughing a little too loud to over compensate.
"I'm doing good! What's up?" You rushed. Douma blinked at you, concern on his face, though you and your friends doubted Douma could feel such a thing. Sometimes you all doubted the man could feel anything. He wasn't the type you needed to share your feelings with.
Something in your gut twitched at the beauty of his eyes.
"Hey, Gyutaro?" Douma peeked around you, interrupting the other man's conversation with Tengen. "Give me the keys to your van."
"What for?" Gyutaro grimaced.
"Little smoke break with the birthday girl." Douma whispered, pointing to you.
"A smoke break?" Tengen whispered back, puckering his lips in question.
"Listen, I'd love to have you down there big guy, but if they see all three of us leave with her, Kyojuro and Shinobu are so going to get suspicious." Douma reasoned, eyes darting to the two RA's you kept as friends. Sanemi had begged you to bring even a little bottle. The sober bastard looked miserable between the two, even with his mouth full of cake. "Not to call both of you potheads, but-"
"Jesus Christ, I get it." Gyutaro huffed back, scrambling for his keys. "Talk louder next time, asshole."
"Thank you, thank you." Douma plucked the keys from his hands and stood. He beckoned you toward the door.
You took a look around, some what unwilling. This was your party, after all. How crude to ditch it in favor of smoking with a man you didn't want to know-
The click of the bathroom door drove you to your feet.
Shinobu's eyes caught on you both going to the door, but she said nothing. Verbally, nothing. The look of alarm on her face spoke volumes and wrote letters the likes of which film couldn't process, and words couldn't describe.
Douma wasn't a good guy. Most friend groups had a guy that just... wasn't right. You only invited Douma to things because he came with somebody. You'd never individually reached out him.
You knew Douma wasn't good though. Explicitly. You'd been told from more than one woman who'd seen you sitting near him that he had a habit of making girls cry, and reveling in the sight.
You weren't sure if such an idea appealed to you by nature, or only in the wake of whoever you were without Giyu. You pitied a healthier you that would regret your attraction, and potential action, to Douma. A future you that would beg current you to reconsider her decisions.
You pitied a past you that waited for Giyu, too. Atleast Douma was attracted to you, or to your tear. No man of Douma's breed showed this level of concern without wanting something in return. The douchie-ness of it all was comforting, in a way.
You could deal with Douma. You could deal with objectification and off handed comments. You could deal with him trying to woo you, thinking you're not intentionally falling for some stupid game that he's so big and bright for playing.
You'd played with Doumas before. You'd never gotten around to fucking one- Giyu was something of an act of self preservation from Douma and his ilk.
You hadn't expected Giyu to send you back into their arms full force. The way your body was reeled in response to the man's willingness was disgusting.
"Douma, I'm fine, really. I don't need anyth-"
"Oh shush." Douma interrupted as he opened the door for you.
Chivalry. How classic.
You intentionally lowered the appearance of your motor skills. Suddenly feeling the urge to appear dumb and helpless. The sick look on Douma's face as you situated yourself in the passengers seat meant that you succeeded.
You could feel your eyes glossing over. The kicks of such a stupid game were returning.
Douma at the drivers seat was all too appealing. His had the laissez-faire stance he was supposed to, broad hand flat on the back of your headrest as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Giyu couldn't even drive.
"You know, Y/N, you looked miserable in there." Douma laughed as you all pulled onto the main road.
"I wasn't miserable. I was very... forget it. I wasn't miserable. You don't need to know why." You rushed, forgetting Douma didn't care on an instinctive level. You had to play a careful game to ensure optimal recovery, while achieving optimal self harm. "Do you want me to smoke with you? Where are we going?"
"Ah. You ask a lot of questions." He laughed, hearty and flustered. "No, we're not gonna smoke. I'm going to buy you like... a milkshake or something. So miserable to not eat your own birthday cake." You flinched.
"E-excuse me?"
"I found a rather generous slice in the bathroom trash, buried under a bunch of toilet paper. Figured it belonged to the birthday girl when you were the only one without a plate."
"Why were you going through my trash?" You hissed, thrown off.
"That's not important." Douma waved off, the chain bracelet on his arm shaking to add an unnecessary sound effect. "What is important is that you're a little puker."
"Oh fucking blow me." You wretched at the name. "Aren't you literally another claim away from getting kicked off campus?"
"Aren't you in a car with me right now? All alone?" He returned. It sickened you that he knew his reputation and laughed about such a thing. It should sicken you.
"Yeah. Congrats. You're my get away scheme. I'm not bulimic, fucking prick."
"I'm sure you're not. You are looking... thinner, though. Problems? Feeling the need to control uncontrollable things?"
He spoke like he knew. Most men did, and you weren't going to let such a read positively impact your opinion of Douma's intelligence. Especially not when it was incredibly invasive and said with no tact.
"I dumped Giyu. Did you want to hear that? Does that make you happy? I was miserable. Does knowing I was miserable get you off?"
"No, ha. That's tragic. After hearing about your many... Interests from Gyokko, I was a bit relieved you ended up with someone so... vanilla. Girls like you rarely live to... Thirty?"
"You could've given me a heads up." You snapped.
"Ah. Good boy, not a good fuck?" You went silent. Douma whistled, which turned into a pained hiss. "Oh, that on the head?"
"We didn't fuck." You mumbled.
"Excuse me?"
"We didn't fuck! We didn't fuck! We never fucked!" You screeched, whipping around to the man, Douma remained focused on the road. "Are you happy? Can you hear?!"
"Oh I'm heart broken, Y/N!" Douma raised his voice in turn, not losing his smile.
"God, I can't even- fuck off!"
"Want to tell me about it?" He sang, pulling into a Dairy Queen drive through.
Douma got some chocolate monstrosity. You got a dipped vanilla cone. You felt like sobbing as he handed it to you, but you didn't want to waste such a trump card.
His hand had intentionally grazed yours.
You imagined Giyu back at your dorm. Fretting when Shinobu takes him aside to tell him where you are, to press that he should be concerned because Douma's a freak. You couldn't help but scoff at the conceited fantasy.
Giyu wouldn't be worried. He wouldn't even blink about it.
That's her problem. Like it'd always been.
"I don't even think he ever liked me." You laughed after spilling the entirety of the last year of your life onto the man. The vanilla had melted over your fist. You found more malice toward yourself for being unable to eat something so good. "And I let myself get fucked over. I should've known, ya know. With my track record, there's no way I'd pick somebody who'd treat me well."
"Hmm." Douma hummed, pulling his spoon from between his lips. You prayed he'd have the decency to give you head. Unlikely, you bet. "You're being too hard on yourself. And on that poor cone." The thing had cracked in your grip.
"I'm not going to eat this."
"How wasteful. I spent at least 3 dollars on that." Douma didn't take receipts, or listen when his total was read, you could tell by the the watch on his wrist. "You know, your cake was really good too-"
"Stop being a dick." You rushed. "I don't know where you get off on seeing women suffering, but knock it off about the food." You rolled down the window and splattered the cone across the side walk.
"I don't get off on seeing you suffer. Enmu's into that, not me." Douma assured, tipping back the last of the blizzard. He ran his tongue over his plump lips before discarding the cup back into Gyutaro's already messy and weed ridden van. "I get off on... well. Everything else."
"I'm not fucking you." You assured, not even close to believing yourself. Neither did Douma.
"Like you didn't fuck Giyu?"
"I didn't fuck- well, i- I never fucked Giyu. I just... oh this is so bull shit."
"You just what?" Douma probed.
"Just lost... You're going to think I'm pathe-" You cut yourself off to revel in the feeling of his predatory look.
Nobody had ever made you feel so edible with such little action. It was arguable if you could even consider such a look predatory. Cannibalistic was probably a better word, because there was nothing animal about his intentions.
Human. Douma was scarily human. Widened eyes, and an upper lip twitching to maintain a straight line. Waiting for your words like new hymns-
"I-I just lost my virginity to him. He didn't- he didn't really move-" You smothered a sob with a laugh. You could practically hear Douma's eyes flutter shut. He hummed at the news. Hummed.
"So you've never been fucked." He did have authority to say that, you guessed. It wasn't in question. It was acknowledgement. "How... soft." You grimaced.
"I've had sex-"
"No~" Douma sang, tune evil and ill intentioned. "No you haven't~"
"You talk like you know." You sneered, wiping tears away. "I gave head. He gave me head. He- he fingered me-"
"I could finger you." The tentative clack of his ring against the steering wheel was much more daunting than Giyu had ever seemed. You remembered, subconsciously, why you never fucked a Douma. Maybe Giyu's near chastened levels of love were all you were made for, even if Douma's words made your uterus feel like a welcome ticking clock.
"What?" You croaked.
"It upsets me, almost." Douma sighed, starting the car up again. "I hate to see good things go to waste. Knowing you were... so needy that whole time... and he just ate his fingers?" Douma clicked his tongue.
"Don't pity me-"
"I'm pitying your pussy." Douma faked a tear. "A waiting college girl going unfucked? Thats a travesty."
"We're. Not. Fucking." You clarified to Douma, leaning toward him. "Stop trying to make me out to be- easy, and yourself to be some- sex god-"
"Y/N, One: I'm incredibly easy. I find no shame in that." Douma assured. " and two: I'm not some sex god... I'm the sex god." He laughed.
"God, you're fucking cring-"
"Do you want to fuck?" Douma asked, and the words ran over your face like a wash of static. It was numbing, not in an apathetic way, but in a relieving way. Like an ibuprofen right before it thinned your blood.
"We can't-"
"You're right. This van is disgusting. I wouldn't fuck in here, either." Douma laughed. "Is Giyu staying over tonight?"
It was a loaded question. The tone of his voice left nothing hidden about his intentions.
The idea of Giyu hearing you be eaten was-
You shuddered, shaking your head. The vapid you craved your sudden open door to emotional revenge.
He wouldn't even care.
"Yes. He had to be-"
"What if-" Douma interrupted. "What if we make him jealous? You have a lot of malice toward the guy, yeah?" He verbalized your thoughts.
"That won't work. I don't want to hurt him-"
"Oh it will, and fuck that guy." Douma hissed. "In fact, you should let me handle everything. You've worked that little head of yours into a real fog, right? I can make it a really good fog."
"You won't be able to make me cum."
"You have a vibrator, right? I promise I'm more than capable." He laughed.
Saying goodbye to Shinobu had been the worst of the bunch. Though everyone threw you confused glances as they left, Shinobu's had been particularly knowing. You were breaking girl code. You felt like shit, deservingly so.
Douma, however, sat right next to Giyu on the couch, none the wiser. The two conversing like Douma didn't know Giyu was negligent, and like Giyu wasn't sensing something off about the man being there longer than everyone else.
Douma's move choice of Cruel Intentions was very silent.
Giyu didn't have particularly strong feelings about Douma, but Giyu also didn't look known danger in the eye. He was very against that, in fact. A common point of contention. You knew it hurt him when you ignored his look of questioning.
"Why is he here?" He'd whisper as Douma locked the door to the restroom. "Didn't you say you hated him?"
"I- he's just hanging out for a bit. He did me a solid earlier."
Giyu realized a bit meant the night when Cruel Intentions was over, and he watched the two of you dissapear into your bedroom.
"I can't believe you were telling the truth." Douma laughed quietly as he closed the door. "I figured he might get a little territorial... but nothing. Ouch."
"Thanks." You sneered.
"Don't mention it." He shrugged off his jacket, laying it on top of your computer chair. "I can't believe that. Seriously." He seemed genuinely shocked.
"Yeah." You mumbled, trying to mask the hurt that came from the validation of your pain. It was humiliating, as a woman, to admit to such a lack of control over men. It was particularly hard admitting it to Mitsuri-
Douma was easy. He'd never get the problem in full. He did a quick survey over your room while you climbed onto your bed.
You never doubted that your final straw had been drawn.
"You know," Douma starred at you with wide eyes. You wondered, with his many oddities, how he'd managed to get near any woman that wasn't as deranged as you currently were. "I'm a really good kisser." He bragged.
"I'm sure you are-"
A soft hand grabbed your ankle, yanking you from your mattress and back toward Douma. Your ass made contact with his jean clad groin, your legs split to reveal what little your outfit left to the imagination.
It was only when his height kept your feet dangling just off the ground that you considered how much physical power Douma held over you. How much stronger he was. How he could do anything he wanted to you, and planned to do so.
It made your pussy clench to think he could've done this to you at any point. That he definitely wanted to.
His fingers toyed with the already scrunched up hem of your dress, pushing it up to the end of your spine so he'd have every bit of fat on your ass available to his palm.
Your panties didn't even feel like they were there.
"What are you doing?"
"Foreplay." He hummed.
"The last I checked, we're not having sex." His thumb ran down the wet fabric covering your slit. Humiliation burned through your body as it loosed a twitch.
"You don't want it?" He asked, thumb pressing the fabric of your panties just past your entrance. He toyed with the spot, wiggling the covered pad around to fluster you. "Don't want to get fucked proper?"
You stayed silent as Douma's fingers hooked in the band of your panties and shimmied them off your hips.
He groaned at the sight of your sticky cunt, wetness threading the organ to your panties. Your need was silent, proof on your lips-
"I- fuck I do." Desperation had been a trait you'd been warned against for all of your life. It was one of those unattractive woman things, but that's all Giyu had been good for. Making you desperate. Part of you wondered if he was doing somebody a solid- lowering your expectations and sending you back to the wolves.
Douma was a good kisser, and he was good with his hands. Which sucked, because there was something very upsetting about such an awful man being so predisposed to making you aroused-
But his tongue was dominating yours, leaving no crook of your mouth untouched, yet his movements were impossibly gentle- almost aware of how you needed to be treated so you wouldn't run before he could fuck the use out of you.
His hands were no different, toying with your chest. He'd invaded your top only seconds before, and yet he drove your nipples hard instantly. Giyu had been fond of your chest as well, but this went beyond fondness. It was almost scary how well Douma was playing your body, and he hadn't even fucked you, yet. Hadn't even seen the nipples he was bullying, but knew just how to tease them.
Douma had a sickening habit. Every moan you'd make, He'd trade you one back. Not a genuine one, but a mimic, as though to mock your reaction. To remind you of your stone cold denial of him earlier, and how stupid you looked wailing under his hand now.
When his fingers went entirely inside, it was even better. This was sex, you figured. The little burn but commitment Giyu had never wanted to give. You had begged him for months. Pleaded, only giving in when he wanted to touch. Always left waiting for the once in a blue moon he bothered.
Douma had been so easy, and felt so good- his fingers pounding your needy cunt with verve while his lips grinned against your ear with elation. The warmth of his jeaned knee- the sight of his bangs dangling infront of your own crossing eyes-
"Virgin tight cunt. I can't believe you're real. You must be insatiable, now."
Douma's cock felt like salvation. Like a water bottle after a drought. It slid into your begging pussy with a wet squelch. Douma's body warmth felt like a fire in a snow logged cabin. His right hand kept your hands locked between the two of you, his left yanking your hair back so he can mar your neck- a mark for everyday you'd gone with out. Tallys for your unwillingly abstinence.
He'd keep that number in mind. You needed a cum for every one you'd been deprived of.
"Give me my name, Doll. Whose cock are you creaming on?"
"D-Douma's-!" Another one ripped through you, Douma spreading your legs with his so you got the full package. You didn't even know your cunt was capable of housing such a beast- let alone so many loads-
By the time Douma had finished, you weren't of this world anymore. You'd cried and begged, came and went- and you rested mindlessly with four or so batches of his seed stored lovingly in your womb.
Giyu hadn't been standing outside of the door when Douma walked out, but he'd been close enough for Douma to know he and you hadn't just been heard- you'd been listened to.
Giyu was disheveled clearly having attempted rest at some point through the fuckfest three doors down, but unable to succeed.
"I didn't take you for such a... forgetful lover." Douma taunted, laughing as he wiped off one of your many orgasms from his fingers.
"Keep your remarks to yourself."
"Keep your girlfriend satisfied." Giyu grimaced at the response. Douma merely smiled. "You know, I feel like I should tell you something right now, but I just can't place it."
"I may not be with her, but I know you're bad for her. We all know you're bad for her. Back. Off."
"You're a complete moron." Douma sighed. "For that, I've completely forgotten whatever well meaning man on man advice I had for you." He threw the wadded up toilet paper toward Giyu and turned back toward your room.
Giyu wanted to say something, wanted to be angry, wanted to lash out- but he simply turned his head down. Douma knew what you meant, then.
"I feel like I've seen the top of his head more than his eyes.'
Douma couldn't see just what you saw in the man. Giyu was attractive, sure, so maybe, Douma considered, you were just greviously insecure, and Giyu had been nice in the right moment.
He wouldn't fuck you, or fight for you- hell, Giyu could barely keep the erection your emotional demise had caused hidden.
Douma rolled his eyes. His ringed finger tapped against your door frame. He turned his back to Giyu with no fear. A talent he had to start fucking into you at the next convenience.
"I'll keep your girlfriend warm til you figure out how to do it yourself, yeah? Later, Tomioka."
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angelsanarchy · 3 months
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Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 30
Tagging: @ophelialaufey @madamemaximoff06 @forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27 @shroomje
Oystein got home and could tell something with Y/n was off. He had heard bits and pieces from Hellhammer but Y/n was adamant that she didn't want him to do anything about it. He knew Y/n wasn't afraid of him but he knew Varg was a violent person with a short temper. The last thing he wanted was for her to set him off by showing no fear. He thrived on shit like that.
He had called Varg and asked him to meet with him to discuss the album and when he caught sight of him, he tossed the copy of Kerrang on the table in front of him.
"You know this is bullshit right?" Varg sat down clearly pissed.
"What are you talking about? You're on the fucking cover? What else could you ask for?" Oystein asked confused.
"Your name is all over the thing. You didn't want any of this going to the press, I took it there and it's just another thing you get to take credit for like you're the brains of this whole thing." Varg's disdain for Oystein had grown so much in such a short time, he knew that whatever he said would only make things more hostile.
"Look, I didn't ask you here to argue about pointless things. I wanted to-"
"I'm going to release my own music on my own label." Varg cut him off.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Oystein asked.
"It means I don't need you anymore. You'll have to find some other idiot to steal from." Varg pressed. Oystein shook his head at him.
"I haven't stolen anything from you Varg." Varg started ranting about the money that was used to make Mayhem's album and Oystein pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew the money panned out in the end with having Varg join the band but it was pointless to try and sort things out at this point.
"You know what? I think that's a great idea. I think you should release your music on your own label, you want to quit Mayhem, that's fine. We can finish the album on our own and even kick you out some of the profit from what you've already put into." Oystein folded his hands in front of him and Varg shook his head.
"You're such a sellout." Varg chuckled.
"What else do you want from me man? You're getting everything you want-"
"I want for people to know that you are a poser. I want people to know that the so called creator of pure Norwegian Black Metal betrayed it with his bullshit lies and deceit." Varg's words were harsh but Oystein knew he didn't care what Varg thought of him.
"I want your whole world to burn to the ground and people to see you for who you truly are. A weak, pathetic hack who profited off the death of his friend and is run around by the cock on a leash by some Itzig." Varg spoke with such disgust about him but it wasn't until he mentioned Pelle and Y/n that he felt himself grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.
"I know what you said to her and that's the end of it. You want to come after me, tell people I'm some piece of shit poser, go ahead. But you approach Y/n again, you so much as breathe on her and I'll kill you myself." Oystein spoke softly so the people around them couldn't hear but Varg laughed.
"Just because you boasted like you puppeteered your little buddy Pelle into blowing his brains out, doesn't mean you've got even an ounce of killer in you, Oystein." He mocked. It was becoming increasingly hard to maintain his emotions.
"You want to see the killer in me, keep it up. There's only one thing in this world that I would kill for and that's Y/n. I will do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means sitting in a cell next to you for arson. You can believe that above everything that's ever come out of my mouth." He held Varg's gaze and he knew that Oystein was serious. He didn't fear him but he knew that he had the capability to end his career before it even started if he ended up in prison for the church fires.
"Well I hope you're also willing to die for her as much as you say you would kill for her." Varg pushed away from the table and left the magazine and the necklace he had given him when he first joined the band sitting on the table. Oystein watched him leave with his hood up, making sure no one saw his face and he sighed. He felt a little bit of the weight lift off of his shoulders. He felt like he had just broken up with someone but that someone hated his guts and wished nothing but the worst for him.
Oystein pulled his wallet out and looked at the picture he had put in there of himself, Pelle and Y/n the first night he wore the corpse paint. He felt a pang in his heart for those times. Everything seemed so much easier then. He wished he could go back and change things. He felt himself getting emotional and jumped up from the table, grabbing the magazine and necklace and trashing them on his way out of the restaurant.
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nakachuchu · 1 year
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Pretty Face | Hayakawa Aki (nsfw)
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SYNOPSIS: You have mutual fuckings with Aki.
READER: female
INCLUDES: public sex, alleyway sex, creampie, biting, unprotected sex
WORDS: 1017
WRITTEN: 11/28/2022
NOTE: I just watched the anime and Himeno is my favorite mommy but the thought of Aki fucking reader/me is just chefs kiss
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You sat sideways on his lap, pressed against his shoulder blade as you watched Power and Denji chase each other around the apartment.
Without even looking, you took the cigarette from his lips and placed it between yours. He blinked, eye twitching as liquids were being spilled and things were being tossed around because of the two.
You snorted before blowing out the smoke. You loved watching the two fight because Aki’s face was always priceless. In all your years of knowing him, you had never seen that expression on his face until Denji came into his life.
"It's not funny," he said.
You threw your head back and laughed, placing the cigarette back on his lips in the process. You threw your arm around his shoulders, fingers tapping on the other side of his arm.
"It's funny to me because I'm not the one who cleans up," you said.
He shot you an annoyed look.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. Even if I did clean, it wouldn't be cleaned the way you wanted it to be cleaned," you retorted. "You can't argue with me on that."
He stayed silent, choosing to focus on the cigarette instead. The silence was a good way of telling you that you were right, as usual.
While Aki was usually known for being logical and correct in situations, you were better known for it, which said a lot about you. The only difference was that you were more fun.
"Come on. I got something I wanna show you," you said as you got up from his lap. "Power, Denji, be good," you called out as you picked up a dirty plate and a glass of water from the floor.
Aki's eyes immediately darted down to your ass. The pencil skirt hugged you so fucking tight and he could see the edge of your panties when you bent down.
You threw a look over your shoulder and sent a mischievous smile to him before standing upright to return the plate and glass to the sink.
Now, you had been teasing Aki for years, both harmlessly and sexually. It started off harmless and as friends, of course. But then you started leaving tiny little hints; bending over in front of him, sliding your finger down his tie nonchalantly, tucking your hair behind your ears whenever he passed by and you were talking to someone.
Aki wasn't stupid, but he wasn't the type of person to be fixated on a woman. His goal was to kill the Gun Devil, not lose his virginity and get a girlfriend. But while that wasn't his goal, it felt good to be able to grope your ass for the first time after you'd been flaunting it for a year straight.
You had a pretty face that every man looked back three times to glance at again. Aki acknowledged the fact that you were pretty, but he never showed any emotion.
The two of you weren't dating, but it was acknowledged without words that the two of you were sexually exclusive. Neither of you ever brought up the idea of an actual relationship, but it didn't matter.
You often were the one initiating touch in public, but because Aki was simply himself, people assumed it was friendly. You sitting on his lap didn't raise many questions because Aki never showed emotion to it.
It happened after one of the monthly drinking nights Himeno loved to have. You were drunk — but you were still able to walk and talk — and Aki was only tipsy. He took you home that night, and while he had no intention of groping you, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your ass while you were bending over to take off your shoes at the entrance.
"Do you think I'm attractive?" you had asked.
The rest was history, and for a man who had never been physically intimate with a woman, he rocked your world that night. Surprisingly, so did you. You two grew sexually close, enjoying the other's touch. The two of you went as far as craving each other when it had been too long.
So that was why you were currently in the back of an alleyway in broad daylight, getting your brains fucked out of you.
Public sex just made it ten times hotter. Aki and you both agreed to that after the first time he fucked you on his balcony. Of course, now that Power and Denji live with him, it's not as doable anymore.
Aki had a firm grip on the back of your thigh, hoisting it up high as he drove his cock into you. Your cheek was smushed up against the wall, lewd moans coming from your mouth.
Your pencil skirt was pushed above your ass, wrapped around your tummy. Your panties were pushed to the side for easy access. Your left hand was spreading your ass cheek, letting him see the mess he was making.
For the clean freak he made himself out to be, he loved messy sex. He loved seeing you disheveled and frantic.
You were creaming around his cock, squeezing every ounce of semen inside him and begging to be filled.
"Fuck," he grunted.
He threw his head back, closing his eyes in bliss as he huffed through his mouth while pounding into you. He loved hearing the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs.
"Fill me up," you whimpered. "Cum in me. I want your cum," you begged.
He opened his eyes and leaned forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Your eyes widened and you let out a mix of a moan and a yelp of pain.
Your eyes rolled back as his hot cum spurted inside you, coating your insides and spilling out, dripping onto the ground.
He withdrew his teeth from your flesh and licked the blood before sighing into your ear. He stood still for a moment, then slid his cock out of you and moved your panties back to their original position.
"Keep it in," he ordered. "Don't let Makima-san sniff it out."
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aifsaath · 5 months
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I am continuously perplexed at how a show as objectively bad and problematic as hotd keeps inspiring outstanding fanfics like yours and @gwenllian-in-the-abbey’s. Truly it’s a mystery to me, especially considering that the books covering the dance are supposed to be quite mediocre as well from what I’ve perceived. Just so you know,with that trailer out now I’m gonna completely blend out the events of the show and consider our fathers clad in red canon
@gwenllian-in-the-abbey AAAAAAAAAAAAAA, I think George's gonna order a hit on us:D
I'm glad you like our slightly destructive approach to teh canon. I'm mostly fueled by spite and my dislike for George's and HBO's complete disregard for the historical context of the stuff they draw their inspiration from (you can't do the Matilda vs Stephen showdown and expect the same sense of injustice, when your main conflict is about Viserys' imbecilic approach to rules, Rhaenyra's weak-ass claim and papa/dragons being her go-to solution to all her problems, Daemon being a chaos gremlin, Corlys' malignant ambition and the Hightowers being the only ones who actually care about the rule of law.)
A lesbian romance doesn't automatically turn a story into a feminist manifesto, nor does a girlboss who's treated by the narrative as the second coming of Christ. Context matters and it's a mistake to view the Dance through the lens of modern ideals about egalitarianism.
GRRM's hubris when it comes to "Aragorn's tax policies" is just another thing that enrages me and Gwenllian, because the man completely misunderstands the medieval legal codes. Just because they were complex that doesn't mean they were fucking contradictory on their own; no one wanted civil wars breaking out each time a monarch died.
Problems happened when two countries with generational beefs worked on two different principles of succession, ie. England (male-preference primogeniture) vs France (male-only primogeniture), or if there was some dynastic fuckery that completely messed up the clear-cut succession lines with usurpations and cousin marriages (Yorks vs Lancasters).
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Had Richard II (the son of the Black Prince) died peacefully without issue, the succession would have followed through the line of the Duke of Clarence, with Edmund the Earl of March eventually becoming the king (and he was Richard's heir, btw).
But that's not what happened. The son of John of Gaunt usurped the throne and it was then passed down through his line, because he was the crowned king. Now, you can argue whether or not he had any right to do the usurpation in the first place and whether or not he was the legitimate king and you bet people back then argued about that too. This ambiguity is how you create a proper narrative about actually conflicting claims. The only thing propping up Rhaenyra against her brother is the fact that Viserys is a moron.
How the fuck can I take F&B seriously and without the Dead Sea's worth of salt, when it pretty much blows Jaehaerys' posthumous dick about his wisdom when he "let" the council of 101 decide the succession (while politely ignoring the fact that Jaehaerys' own claim is legit only in the cases of either full salic or semi-salic succession, ie male-only), while never once it calls out Viserys out on his extremely dangerous decision. He gets to die venerated as the peaceful grandpa and all the blame for his incompetence is piled on Aegon II and Alicent.
Let's go through the possible succession systems, shall we?
If we follow male-preference primogeniture, the legitimate line of kings ends with Aerea because she was the eldest child of Aegon the Uncrowned, Maegor's eldest nephew. Only after she and her sister die without issue, Jaehaerys can become the king. Jaehaerys' canon ascension works only because Rhaena gave up her daughters' claims. The next in line would be Aemon and after him Rhaenys. But that's not what happened.
If we follow the salic law (male only), the legitimate line of the kings goes Aegon I -> Aenys I -> Aegon Uncrowned -> Jaehaerys I -> Viserys I -> Aegon II. This is probably what Jaehaerys wanted to ensure, since he challenged Maegor's kingship in the first place.
If a crowned king can choose his heir, then Jaehaerys was never a legitimate king and Aerea was the true queen, because Maegor, who had won his crown in the trial by combat, chose her as his heir.
What about the principle of seniority? Cognatic seniority where men and women have equal claims is out of the question since Aegon I was the crowned king, not Visenya. Male-only seniority would go Aegon I -> Aenys I -> Maegor I (uncontested!) -> Aegon Crowned This Time -> Viserys the Not Tortured to Death -> Jaehaerys I -> Aemon (only if his uncle Viserys has no issue) -> Baelon -> Vaegon -> Viserys I -> Daemon (EW).
Notice the distinct lack of Rhaenyra.
Team Black keeps mentioning the widow's law, but that's a bulk of nonsense. I suppose the misunderstanding originates from a (willful) misinterpretation of this passage. The book says:
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Now, I highly doubt Jaehaerys intended for the law to mean that a daughter from the first marriage should come before the sons from the second. The wording is a bit unlucky, but I suppose the intention was to establish the legal position of the second wife and her children as united with the position of her step-children - she has the same duties towards them as if they were own, and the same goes the other way. Which would make sense. Because otherwise, no one would be desperate enough to marry a widower with daughters. Since we know that title and land ownerships have remained in the same families without changing hands once or twice since the implementation of the law, I really doubt the team black's literal interpretation of the passage was the one intended. Ffs, Viserys was pushed to marry again because he had only one daughter, meaning, this law wasn't viewed the way the Team Black wishes for. And I'm not even delving into the fact that this would be a female inheritance hack penned by Jaehaerys, if that was the case. Talk about ooc.
So, yeah, we're taking Gyldayne's interpretation of the past with so much salt our hearts are gonna fail.
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