#and treat me badly because they call me sloppy

[magnetothemagnificent]

A little bit of love and patience for "messy" eaters.

People who don't use utensils conventionally.

People who chew with their mouth open.

People who leave crumbs and dribbles when they eat.

People who eat "loudly".

Whether it's because of different cultural norms, sensory sensitivities, motor disabilities, or facial differences, you all deserve to eat and be respected.

[keys-hellscape-1020]

5 times you took care of the 141st, and one time they took care of you

Happy (late) holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy this piece!

Platonic!141st x medic!reader

Warning: Canon typical violence, minor angst, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, very minor gore, hospital type settings, minor illness, fainting, brief mentions of vomiting, cursing.

1st

“Need a medic stat!”

You rushed through the battle ground, attempting to make your way to the other side of it. This was made extremely difficult by the large chunks of rubble scattered about, oh and the fact they are at least a dozen people shooting at you.

“Stitch!!”

“Soap I’m on my way, apply pressure I’ll be there soon!” You panted, vaulting over some rubble and sliding to cover to prevent getting shot yourself.

The mission had gone to shit extremely quickly. You were just supposed to get the information and get out, stick together and move quickly. You all were not anticipating bombs being dropped on your heads from enemy aircrafts.

They had scattered you all quickly, as each of you attempted to avoid being hit. It seemed as that was their plan because as soon as you all were split up enemy soldiers surrounded you out of nowhere.

Price has called for an evac, but the lack of non blown up landmarks made it difficult to regroup.

You fired off a few shots into the smoke, praying they found their mark, and took off once more.

Going over and under rubble, left and right, in and out, it felt like you were never going to reach Soap.

Just as you were about to start violently cursing the gods for the situation you were in you saw Soap a few hundred yards off from you. To your surprise he looked to be in alright shape, the lump next to him however you couldn’t say the same for.

“Soap I have visual on you, what’s the situation?”

“The situation is Gaz is bloody shot!!”

Cursing under your breath you moved from your cover once more. Keeping low to the ground, more crawling than running at times, you finally made your way to Soap and Gaz.

Sliding in next to them you got to work. Looking Gaz over, you immediately started treating the biggest and most obvious problem, the bullet wound in his stomach.

Soap had tried his best to stop the bleeding, that much was clear from the soaked gauze packed into the wound, but with the need to return fire he couldn’t keep up with it.

You applied heavy pressure on it, praying that’s enough to keep him alive until he can get to a hospital.

“Price where the hell is that damn evac?!”

“3 minutes out, landing in what used to be the hospital parking lot. I’ve got Ghost with me what’s your status?”

“Me and Soap are alright, Gaz has been shot and is loosing blood fast he needs to get out of here asap!”

“We need to move!” Soap yells at you over his shoulder from where he’s returning fire at the enemy.

You act fast, harshly rubbing Gaz’s sternum to wake him up.

His eyes barely peak open, “Stitchy? What’s goin’ on?” He sounds drunk, which with how much blood he’s lost doesn’t surprise you.

“Hey, hey buddy, stay awake, your badly hurt we need to move.” You chirp, trying to keep your voice light despite the situation. “How you feelin’ bud? Can you talk to me?”

As you speak you rummage through your pocket, sighing in relief when you find what you were looking for, a stim shot and some pain relief.

Gaz had nodded off again in the brief time you weren’t speaking, and you lean in again to speak to him. “Gaz!! Come one buddy, keep your damn eyes open!”

“Stitch!” Soap calls from behind your back, the urgency in his voice can not be ignored.

“I know!” Deciding that you don’t have time to wake him up, you quickly stab the stim shot into his thigh.

That wakes up Gaz with a start. He flinches in pain, his eyes now wide open.

“Welcome back to the world buddy!” You shout at him, quickly injecting him with pain relief and tightening the sloppy bandage around his midsection one last time.

“Soap! Ready to move!” You call to him, hauling Gaz’s arm and part of his body, over your shoulder.

Soap leads the way, ducking behind rubble and returning fire when he can. You both move as quickly as you can, you would be lying if you said you weren’t struggling to keep up. Gaz was already fairly heavy, he also has all his gear on him which did not help your situation at all.

You were falling a bit behind Soap, but you kept hauling both you and Gaz towards him as fast as you could.

You were not going to let either of you die out here.

Finally you both reach the evac sight. Laying eyes on Price and Ghost you feel like you can breath again.

You run up next to where they’re positioned behind a large chunk of rubble. Laying Gaz down with his back to it you go to check his bandages again.

When you glance up to his face you notice that he’s awake. “How ya feelin’ bud?” You shout over the sound of gunfire, applying more pressure to his bleeding wound.

“Like shit.” He quips back.

You struggled to hear him over the sound of gunfire, but you were glad that he was conscious enough to talk to you and process what your saying.

Finally, fucking finally, your hear the sound of what might as well be the holy grail.

The heli lands about 20 yards away from you, cruising down to the ground, before it’s even landed Price is yelling orders.

“Stitch and Gaz move first, the rest of us will cover you from behind!”

You throw Gaz’s arm back over your shoulder and haul him onto his feet, thankfully he’s now awake enough that he can help you instead of you dragging him. Once you reach the heli you throw the top half of his body in, causing him to wince in pain.

“Sorry bud!” You shout over the noise of the chopper, pulling him the rest of the way in. You lean over him, securing him inside the chopper, then lifting up his shirt to check and make sure his bandages are still tight. Thankfully the bleeding has slowed down enough where there is minimal blood visibility through the bandage which makes you breath a sigh of relief.

You feel the heli taking off and you glance over your shoulder to make sure all your boys got onboard in one piece.

“Any other injuries I should know about?” You shout over the sound of the Heli.

“Your gonna have some if you don’t bloody sit down and secure yourself!” Price yells back at you.

You back off sitting yourself down next to Gaz. He was still hurt badly, but at least now he was as stable as you could get him.

All things said?

That was a shit show.

2nd

You hummed as you fluttered around the med bay busily. Moving from one spot to the other, carefully taking inventory with your trusty clipboard in hand.

You were truly in your element, everything was calm, orderly, and you were free to just do your job without any interruptions.

The door to the infirmary swung open, hitting the wall with a bang! In came Ghost, dragging a whining Soap behind him.

Ghost looked seriously pissed off, his eyebrows were noticeably furrowed under his balaclava and his shoulders were hunched. If you were to rely on context clues the only reason Soap was here was because of Ghost’s firm grip on his bicep.

“Can I help you?” You ask, face completely dead-pan.

Ghost doesn’t respond, just roughly pushes Soap towards you. Now that you have a better look at him you can see that his shoulder looks… wrong to say the least.

“What did you do this time?” You sigh, walking over to grab Soap by his ear.

“Owww” Soap whines “Sure! Pick on the injured person why don’t ya?”

“How do you always get injured at base but never on missions?” You taunt, pulling Soap over to the nearest available gurney.

You gesture for him to sit down on the bed, and when you turn around you notice Ghost, still standing where you left him.

“Either sit down or leave Ghost, there’s no lurking in my medical bay.” You say, grabbing what you need to treat Soap.

Returning to Soap you gently push him down on his non-injured shoulder. “Y’know if you wanted me like this you could’ve just asked.” Soap taunts with a wink, prompting you to sigh.

Thankfully he’s in a tank top or you would have to cut off his shirt, you know from personal experience with treating him that when you have to do that he makes plenty of comments.

“Alright, this is probably gonna hurt like a bitch, don’t punch me.” You say as you put Soaps arm in the proper position for realignment.

“Wouldn’t dream of it la- OW WHAT THE FUCK.”

“All done” you quip, pulling off your gloves. You look back over your shoulder to see Ghost has moved to the foot of the gurney.

“What were you two even doing?” You ask, putting your supplies away and getting different ones out.

“Fuckin” “Sparing” They say at the same time.

You should’ve know better than to ask.

3rd

You can’t believe this. You can’t believe your boys. You knew they could be stupid sometimes but this is next level!

Thankfully most of them had gotten away with minor injuries, and somehow you had gotten out without a scratch, despite not even knowing the plan before they decided to execute it.

Soap and Ghost had only bumps and bruises, somehow, considering they were in the thick of their stupid plan. Gaz had a few scrapes and a sprained ankle, but you patched him up then set him off with a crutch and a promise to go easy on it. And the captain? You don’t even know how he managed it considering he’s supposed to be the smart one, but he broke his leg.

So now you are in the med bay, essentially holding your own captain hostage (not like he could get very far if he did decide to run off).

He is not a good patient. None of your boys are. He complains about being there, says how he wants to leave and how he wishes he could do things for himself. You understand that, but the best thing for him at the moment is rest, and he seems adamant on not taking it.

“Stitch”

“If you ask me if you can leave again I’m smacking you.” You say while walking over to him.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way for me to go get food is there?” He asks, looking far to innocent for his own good. He’s planning something. You just know it.

“I’ll call one of the boys to bring you something up.” You quip, already walking away, intent on y’know, doing your job.

“Stitch” You hear him call as soon as you walk away.

“Yes sir?” You question, turning around to stare him dead in the eyes.

“How long until I get out of this hell hole?”

“Until your leg heals or you get put on leave.”

“Leave?” He sounds actually startled at that proposition, prompting you to walk closer to him.

“Just for a few months sir, until your leg heals.” You soothe. As quick as the startled look in his eyes appeared it was gone. Masked down under his cool captain facade.

“You can have a few months of uninterrupted down time with your husband. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You ask, walking over to stand next to him, setting your hand on the knee of his uninjured leg.

“Have you met yourselves? You all will get killed without me here!” He exclaims, running a hand through his beard in exasperation.

“You’re one to talk sir.” You say deadpan. “Trust me the boys will be fine. They will be better off without you for a few months than they will be if they see you constantly cooped up in here.”

“Stitch, nothing good can possibly come from me not being here!”

“Sir,” you quip as you sit on the side of his gurney, “you need to give them more credit. They’re smart, strong, soldiers, and if you order them to they’ll hold themselves together until you return.”

“You think they can’t behave unless their ordered?” Price smirks.

“What can I say, I know them to well.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

4th

You woke up to a thudding in your head.

Thud, thud, thud.

Thud, thud, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

As you come to, your groggy self realizes that loud, obtrusive noise is not coming from within your head, but outside it. You go to answer the door, (tripping over your blankets on the floor in the process) and find Ghost standing behind it.

You realize with a start that he’s in civvies, and has replaced his balaclava with a simple black face mask. While this should’ve been expected, it still comes as a surprise to you. They look unnatural on him.

“Ghost? What are you doing here?” You ask, trying not to scream on account of it being 3 am.

He nudges you to the side, walking in so you can close the door, and it’s then that you notice that his black shirt is getting even darker with blood.

“Ghost, what the fuck.” You sigh, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards your couch. “Stay here, I’ll be right back with first aid.”

You run to the bathroom, fling open the cabinet under the sink to grab the first aid kit and run back.

“If you ran like that during missions we might have to cover you less.” Ghost muttered.

“Oh shut up, what did you even DO.” You ask, pulling up his shirt with a pad of gauze ready in your other hand to staunch the bleeding.

You find the culprit quickly, a long but shallow gash along his side. It would need stitches, but thankfully you could do that here.

“How’s it look doc?” He mumbles, barely legible.

“You’ll be fine after some stitches but how did you even do this? We’re on leave.” You question, absolutely exasperated. You all were on leave and you still couldn’t catch a break from your idiot boys.

His response is mearly to grunt and look away from you.

“Alright then, well I’ll go ahead and clean it up for you alright?” You mutter.

You go through the motions, this is something you’ve done a million times. Clean, antiseptic, stitches, bandage, done.

As your putting everything away you notice Ghost is staring at the floor, and something about him feels… off.

As you go to put the first aid kit away you nudge his foot with yours, “You feelin’ alright bud? You can stay the night if you need.”

“‘M fine” he mutters, still not making eye contact.

“Wow that was convincing.” You dead pan as you walk away from him to go put up your first aid kit.

When you return to his side you gently rest your hand on his shoulder and say, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but you can stay here as long as you need. I gave you all this address for emergencies after all.”

He eyes you, before reaching up to your hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze, “Thanks Stitch”.

“Anytime.”

5th

You are starting to believe you’ve done something to piss off the gods.

You have just gotten back from leave and already the rest of your task force is sick. It started with Soap, who had come back to base with it, except he insisted it was nothing and went about training like he normally does. Him refusing to rest like you told him to led to him getting Ghost sick, not a surprise with how much they… “hang out.”

Next was Gaz, who despite you telling him not to, was adamant about treating them. When he inevitably fell to the illness he went whining about it to Price, who despite his best efforts, still got it. You suspect if he hadn’t still been trying to get his leg back to what it was before he broke it he could’ve outran him.

And then there was you. The sole survivor.

For some reason all of them had decided to wallow in your room, something about Soap insisting it had “healing properties” because your a medic. You told him to get out. He didn’t listen.

Gaz had curled up in your bed, Price had taken the couch, Soap curled up in your arm chair, and Ghost took the rug.

You were going to do so much cleaning once you managed to get these fuckers out.

But for now, you had to be in medic mode. So you went in. Armed with a face mask, gloves, everything antiseptic you could get your hands on, you started your plan: get the sick bastards out of my room.

The first step was making them feel better, so you decided on a classic sick food; chicken noodle soup.

You pushed the door to your room open with your back, on account of you carrying a heavy tray with 4 bowls of soup.

“Hiya boys, how are you feeling?” You chirped, setting the tray down on your desk. “I brought dinner if your feeling up to it.”

Much to your amusement Soaps head immediately shot up at the promise of food. “What did ya bring?” He rasped, the poor thing had lost most of his voice when he got ill and he was only now starting to get it back.

“Chicken noodle soup, although I’m not sure the bastard who started this whole mess should get any.” You quipped, even though you were actively handing him a bowl.

“Thank ya kindly.” He mumbled as he took the bowl from you. As far as your boys went Soap was the closest to looking like his regular self. Yes he didn’t have much of a voice, and his energy was way down from normal, but he was the least pale, and obviously the one with the most appetite.

“Anybody else want any?” You asked, glancing about your room turned sick bay.

From the corner of your room you saw Price weakly raise his hand from the couch. “Geez dramatic much?” You snorted out a laugh while handing him his bowl.

“Don’t bully the ill Stitch.” Gaz huffs from your bed.

“Your in my room, I’ll bully as much as I please.” You huffed “Now do you want soup?”

You saw Gaz lift his head to look at the soup questioningly before shrugging and nodding yes.

Once you had one bowl of soup left you looked down at the dark puddle on your rug. “Ghost, dinner time.” You chirped.

“Leave me to my death.” He moaned back at you.

“Oh you’re hardly dying, here sit up and eat something you’ll feel better.” As you spoke you gently crouched down to him and started repeatedly poking him on the shoulder.

“What do you want you heathen” he muttered as he finally sat up, only to have a bowl of soup forced into his hands.

“Eat.” You said.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care.”

Reluctantly Ghost pulled up his mask to his nose and began to eat his soup, with everyone fed you looked around to see if anyone was done.

Like you expected, Soap was already done and Gaz was about 2/3 of the way through his. Time for step 2, probably the hardest part: Medicine.

You walked over to your desk and looked through the bag you’d brought in with the tray. You were muttering curses under your breath when you finally found it. A bottle of NyQuil. Not only will it help their colds, it’ll also knock them out so you won’t have to deal with them! Win win! Looking over at Soap you decided he would be your first target.

Loading up a spoon with the liquid you carefully step over to Soap, trying to not set off any of his alarm bells.

“Can I take your bowl?” You ask him, making sure to have a normal tone that doesn’t give away your true intentions.

“Sure, thank ya.” He rasped handing you his bowl. Before he could fully take his hand off the bowl you whisked the bowl away and shoved the spoonful of medicine into his hand.

He stared at the spoon like it was poison, “Stitch, what IS this?” He questioned.

“Medicine.” You quipped back. “It’ll make you feel better. Maybe if you take it you can insist on training again to go infect more people.”

Soap let out a raspy groan, but despite his previous complaint he swallowed the medicine, making a comical face after tasting it, and handed the spoon back to you.

Your next, “victims” as you choose to call them, didn’t put up much of a fight.

Gaz didn’t complain once he realized you weren’t leaving him alone until he took it, and Price took it without a word. Overall, a pretty positive experience. Your next challenger however would be much more difficult.

You eye up Ghost, and decide at this point attempting to be stealthy is pointless, he’s already seen you carry out your plan, and thus you approach him with your ammo loaded spoon fearlessly.

“No.” He groans, voice muffled from how he’s laying face first in your rug.

“Ghost, it’ll make you feel better.” You try, but the mountain man simply acts as if he didn’t hear you. You start repeatedly nudging him with your foot, over and over and over again until finally he picks his head up to look at you.

You can’t see much of him because of the mask, but from what you can see his eyes are much more puffy and red than normal, and anyone could notice the subtle rasp to his voice that’s not normally there.

“You need to take the medicine.” You spoke calmly, like you were talking to a cranky toddler. “It’ll make you feel better. Plus everyone else already took theirs.”

“Well they’re weak.” He groaned, and yet he still snatched the spoon from you, shoved the medicine in his mouth, and then threw it back at you.

“Dramatic much.” You whispered to yourself, getting up to put everything away.

If there’s one thing you got from this experience it’s this:

You work with literal children.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1st

You felt like shit.

Not that you plan on letting that fact be known.

You’ve been attempting to put on some blush and concealer for the last 30 minutes in an attempt to make yourself look more alive. Your only responsibility today is a meeting to discuss your next mission so while it’s technically against dress code you don’t think anyone will notice, or if they do notice you doubt they will care.

Your body however seems to be stubbornly rebelling against your master plan to seem healthy. Your attempts to stand at your desk and put on makeup keep being thwarted as your head pounds any time you stand up and your vision blurs.

Despite your bodies valiant attempts to incapacitate you, you did manage to get your makeup on, put your clothes on, and get out the door.

Once you hobbled your way into the meeting room you saw that everyone was already there, as you took much longer than expected getting ready, which led to you being late.

“Damn Stitch you look… rough.” Gaz commented with a wince.

“Shut it.” You muttered, your voice already half gone.

When you woke up this morning you knew you were in for a hell of a week. You throat hurt like hell, and your voice was nearly gone. You kept coughing and sneezing and your head hurt horribly. All the same symptoms of what your boys had.

Despite your best efforts to get them out they had ended up staying for nearly a week. Soap left after about 2 days of rest, as he had it before the chaos started, but even with their ring leader gone the rest stayed put, with little signs of recovery. Due to this, your constant cleaning in between bouts of caring for them was futile, and 2 days after they recovered, it seems the inevitable happened. You caught it.

You sat with a thud in your normal seat next to Gaz, nodding at Price. “Sorry I’m late sir.” You grunted, barely able to get the words out.

“Are you feelin’ alright?” He asked, eyes narrowed at you suspiciously.

“Never better.” You lied.

Price was still eyeing you with suspicion, but he turned to begin the meeting anyway.

Nothing much of note happened during the meeting, except the fact that Gaz kept giving you looks of increasing concern, and every time you let out a muffled cough Ghost gave you a death stare. Soap looked at you more than Price for the whole meeting, despite him getting told off numerous times.

At the end of the meeting you moved to get up to retreat to your room, but as soon as you rose your head started spinning aggressively, the world blurred into one large mass of color, and then black.

~

You woke up with a start. Sitting up and immediately backing into the nearest corner you assessed your surroundings.

You were in your room, and the lack of light coming through the window let you know it was night. You must have slept a while as it was still morning when your meeting ended. Upon feeling a weight tighten on your waist you looked down and felt your cheeks grow warm.

Gaz was curled up right next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. He was sleeping peacefully next to you, his body curled slightly. You thought it safe to assume he was curled around you until you shot up.

Looking around the room you saw the rest of your boys spread around. Ghost was lying peacefully on your rug (honestly you found his obsession with it a little concerning), with Soap half on top of him. Price was laying on your couch with his god-awful hat on his face, presumably to block out the nonexistent light.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a bout of violent coughing. Your lungs felt like stress balls as they were squeezed under the muscles of your chest, and in one violent motion you swung yourself out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom.

As you emptied your stomach contents into the toilet bowl you felt someone wipe away the sweat on your forehead and crouch down next to you.

“That’s it, get it all out.” You heard Soap mumble next to you.

As your stomach finished emptying itself and you spat into the toilet into an attempt to get the taste out of your mouth Soap gently leaned over to wipe your mouth for you.

You sat back on your haunches with your eyes closed, breathing heavily. You creaked your eyes when you heard multiple pairs of footsteps quickly approaching the door.

Ghost stood directly behind Soap, looking at you with poorly masked concern. Next to him, with a death grip on his elbow, was Gaz, who was not even trying to mask his concern at your state. Behind both of them peered Price, and while he displayed a glare on his face, you knew him well enough to know that was his way of showing concern.

“Respectfully Stitch, what the fuck?” Soap gently said next to you.

Instead of actually responding like all of your years of training and experience are screaming at you to do, your emotions take over and you start violently sobbing.

You feel miserable. You head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, your throat is on fire, all your limbs feel weighed down with lead, you can’t even stay awake long enough to walk to your own room and now your emotional state is such shit your violently crying in front of all of your boys.

The first one to react is Soap, who instantly tightly pulls you into a hug. The next is Gaz, who rushed over to tackle you- gently! In a hug. Price awkwardly walked over to sling an arm around you as well, and Soap turned around to grab Ghost by his ankle and drag him in.

“I-I’m sorry.” You gasped out between sobs.

In response to your statement Soap and Gaz’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

Finally, Price spoke. “Alright crowding em’ isn’t gonna help anything. Soap make sure they brush their teeth then get them the fuck to bed. Ghost, grab the medicine they gave us and anything else that might help. Gaz make sure they have water and a Gatorade on their nightstand. I’m gonna run to medical and get them some anti-nausea medication.”

Hearing that your boys all scurried off to follow orders.

Soap carefully raised you up, and made sure you had steadied yourself against the counter before releasing you. He grabbed your toothbrush for you and put a generous amount of toothpaste on it. After he handed it to you and made sure you were good he started busying himself with anything he thought needed a bit of tidying around your bathroom. Which was apparently a lot.

As he worked he spoke lowly, “Gave us all quite a fright there. Thought you were hurt for a moment and rushed ya to the med bay. They told us you were just ill and had us bring ya to your room.”

You spat out your toothpaste and muttered between sniffles, “sorry.”

As you cleaned off your toothbrush and your mouth Soap approached you and pulled you in tight. “I know we annoy the hell out of you with our recklessness, but I don’t know what I would do without ya. You’re the glue that holds us all together, without ya’ we all would be dead 10 times over.”

As Soaps little speech ended someone cleared their throat behind you, prompting you to turn around.

There stood Gaz, leaning against the doorframe. “He’s right y’know.” He said softly, slowly approaching you. “We would fall apart without you. And if keeping you in good shape means tending to you while your vulnerable like you do for us so well, then we will do it happily.”

“Gaz, you all gonna make me cry again.” You sniffled, rubbing harshly at your eyes.

His eyes grew wide at that and quickly pulled you into another hug, “Please no.”

“Alright, alright. We need to get ‘em to bed. Let em’ rest and what not.” Soap said gently pulling you from Gaz.

“Right right.” And with that Gaz gently took your hand leading you towards your bed. Soap followed closely behind, keeping a hand on your shoulder the whole time, like he was scared you would fall over again (not that you can blame him).

As they settled you in Price came in through the door, carrying a bucket and a small pill in his other hand.

“Alright, this bucket is incase you get sick again.” He said, setting it down next to your nightstand. “And this pill is for your nausea.”

He handed you the pill and the glass of water Gaz had gotten for you earlier. As you took the pill Ghost finally walked over with the medicine he has taken way to long to find.

“Alright here ya go.” Ghost said, attempting to hand you the spoon once you took the pill.

You however, were apparently not sick enough to not cause problems on purpose as you leaned comically far away from the spoon.

When Ghost gave you a pointed look you simply shrugged and said “Revenge bitch.” Before grabbing the spoon and taking the medicine.

“Alright I think that’s everything.” Price started, “We’ll leave you alone now and let you rest. Come on boys.”

As they moved to leave something came over you, making you call out to them, “Wait, uh please wait. Can… can you all stay? Please?” As you spoke you curled up further into your blankets, attempting to hide yourself in them.

Soap was the first to react to your question. “Aww sure Stichey, of course we’ll stay!” He smirked, practically prancing over to you to playfully ruffle your hair.

You scoffed, already regretting your decision, and rolled over to face the wall muttering, “forget it.”

“No no no.” Gaz said, quickly walking over to you, making sure to give Soap a good smack on the back of his head on the way. “If you want us to stay we can stay. It’s the least we can do. Right?” At that last word he shot a pointed glare towards the other members of the 141st, who all made varying gestures of agreement.

With that figured out your boys all settled in. Gaz practically latched onto you, pulling you to his chest and tucking your head under his chin. Soap, feeling extremely left out, decided to snuggled into your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling at the back of your neck. Soap waved Ghost over and with a sigh he slid his legs under everyone else’s and leaned half against Soap, half against the wall.

“Well looks like I can’t fit- what a shame,” Price began, only to have the back of his shirt grabbed by Gaz who proceeded to practically throw him over everyone onto Ghost, who promptly threw him off. He eventually settled in next to Ghost, half leaning on him, his legs fully intertwined with everyone else’s.

Once everyone was settled you felt incredibly comfortable. Your boys were all around you, and while yes, you still felt like shit, their heat and comfort more than made up for it.

The most important thing you got from this experience?

Your boys may be annoying sometimes, but there is nothing they wouldn’t do for you.

[phaerlax]

For the character meme: Morvay!

Pondering My Morb

@idololivine also asked. These Morvay thoughts are at a premium; the market is starved.

If you also lov the Morv, please join us in Mauve Member, the Morvay Birthday Fanweek!

First impression

The prologue/first chapter made it seem like Morvay was going to be some kind of feisty bratty rude bad boy type. Which would work for me, of course.

Impression now

He's actually just a Large Dog 😭Starved for affection (and cum), baby... a bit stupid, very impulsive, very open, likes to be stepped on but is a little bit (a LITTLE bit) embarrassed/reluctant to admit it. He hits a lot of good spots for me. Also when I saw his nipples it was over wtf those little volcano teats are everything. It's unfair that he's treated so badly by the game, my Morvay enjoyment would rival wolfboy if he had content.

Favorite moment

Okay this question is making me realize that my memory for specific moments is GARBAGE. Everything is so soupy and jumbled together in my brain... also there aren't that many Morvay moments, ugh. Is it cheating to say that I love the moment he gets pet in the new opening lol

I think his last birthday dialogue was really cute: Morvay was distraught that Aster had given him a list of tasks on his birthday, but then he realized that the list that Aster gave him was actually a list of 'delicacies' (guys to suck off lol). I also like it when Aster closes the window before Morvay can fly in, and when Morvay calls Kuya old and gets set on fire.

Idea for a story

You've come to the right place (opening my trenchcoat and showing pockets full of Morvayfic ideas)

🌈 Hardcore denial smut in which a sympathetic Eiden does his best to comfort an extremely punished Morvay who is gagged, caged, plugged, and nipple-taped (he got too silly).

🩸The rare cute Morvaster, in which Aster is overworked sleepy and has a headache from idk doing too much capitalism, and Morvay cautiously takes care of him. Aster is too tired to be mean and just nuzzles into pillowy incubosom.

🐍 Morvay is teaching Yakumo how to give good sloppy. Theory, practice, and demonstration, with a bit of a rush to get into demonstration, but he does care! Morvay is proud when people come to him for sex guidance.

🥞 Morvay is helping the Edmond and knights bust some sort of shady drug ring (he IS a master spy!). During the scuffle, the area gets blasted with sex pollen to which Morvay is immune as a nonhuman. It's up to him to drain everyone's essence so they don't suffer...

📖 As part of an Aster scheme, Morvay needs to woo a noble who is very into religious kink. He gets Olivine to give him pointers on his costume and act. Their sacrilegious practice roleplaying gets out of hand in morvoli horny feedback loop.

🪵 In gratitude for Morvay having saved Topper from some poachers, Quincy agrees to let Morvay suck him off again. But because of previous Morvay-induced trauma, Quincy fully ties him up for it and fucks his throat.

🦊After the latest bout of disrespect, Kuya curses Morvay so that every guy he touches can't get it up. When Morvay caves and wants the curse removed, Kuya subjects him to a mouth soaping (yes my array of punishment kinks is vast).

🐺 Morvay enlists Garu's help in going out on a wilderness expedition to collect some rare "incubus vine" fruit. The vines should be dormant that time of year, but they aren't (Kleinmate change!) and the pair gets plant tentacled.

🤖 Having discovered Blade's magical cum reflavoring abilities, Morvay continues to explore them like Eiden. This time they're doing booze of some kind, but drunk Blade proves himself an absolute menace.

☀️ Morvay gets in trouble in Solaria like he does in the Royal Capital, but Aster isn't there to smooth things over. Dante becomes very annoyed at how unrepentant he seems as he expects to be let go, and deigns to administer a lashing of some sort himself.

💀 Rin is starving Morvay out while he's captured in the Dark Territory. He promises that he'll let Morvay suck his dick (which is exactly like Master's dick) if Morvay does some degrading task. Morvay does it, and then despairs as he realizes that Rin basically doesn't have essence, so sucking his dick is fruitless.

Anyone that wants can take these ideas, run with them, twist them, idc. No need to credit!

Unpopular opinion

My most unpopular opinion about Morvay is that I love Morvay.

My second most unpopular opinion about Morvay is that his SR looks good and I like it better than his SSR. I really enjoy his round, bubbly muscles and his sweet baby face. The creepy yakuza uncle vibe of Mauve Mayhem doesn't really do it for me, with the glasses in particular making him feel too old.

Favorite relationship

It has to be Aster/Morvay from what canon presents. Obviously. Punishment & dubcon are my whole thing and OH BOY ahahah I love how evil Aster is to him, and how Morvay whines 💜 Also love that he's beeg and tittiful and Aster is smol and squeaky.

In the realm of relationships as they exist in my brain, I of course like Morvay/GaruKaru. I like to think that Morvay is proud of how much of a slut Garu has become, and that he has moments of both commiseration and exasperation with Karu earning himself/both of them vampire-inflicted punishment.

Favorite headcanon

I like to play around with Morvay's magic incubus biology and to extrapolate many things from that.

He's an enthusiastic bottom because he's primarily interested in obtaining essence from sex, and sees topping as a net 'loss' (however, he can do it and is great at doing it out of principle).

He can effortlessly perform minor acts of shapeshifting such as retracting his nails, making his tongue longer and stronger, and changing the size of his dick.

His cum is aphrodisiac like his saliva (incubus saliva is canon).

He can use his tail with great dexterity for sex and control its texture.

If he's overloaded with essence, it's possible that his nipples leak magical yaoi fluid because I have a male lactation kink.

He can incapacitate people with essence-draining kisses.

His ass has freaky unnatural fantasy muscles and feels like a toy.

[claraameliapond]

So... is taylor going to give olivia credit and royalties for obviously conceptually copying her song?? It would be only fair wouldn't it..? According to the logic of Olivia having to give over songwriting credits for a split second of screaming in a bridge on deja vu, which sounds nothing like cruel summer's screaming in a bridge at all anyway, then conceptually Taylor obviously being inspired for the whole concept of Olivia's get him back- especially given the timing - when will the songwriting credits to Olivia, Fiona Apple and then wherever that tune in the chorus is from (I've definitely heard that before, it's not original) , be given over? 😀 🙂🙃🤨 they're the same lyrics- and the same title- you know if 'Get Him Back' was released after Taylor's 'imgonnagetyouback' those toxic swifties would say Olivia copied Taylor, so where's that logic now? Where's the consistency ?

Also Honestly, taylor does not come off well with that song anyway. The logic in her song is so off, like who thinks of someone like that. Who values people like that? It's giving ... out of touch. Obviously think what you like but where Olivia's sentiment in her song is justified in outrage and in morality, the mixed emotions in the aftermath of something and feeling outraged on behalf of yourself and how badly you were treated and wanting them to get just desserts, and the cheeky joke she plays on the audience with that double entendre like 'I want to kiss his face....with an uppercut " making people go 'No! Don't fall back in!' And then her going - 'Just joking I know he's terrible' , whereas Taylor's just makes her look like a horrible psychopath. The intentional perpetrator. Who would do that? Think of people like that? , Value people like that?

People are messy and you don't owe anyone pretty etc etc yes ,but this is someone who has built her whole career calling out immoral treatment against her. Recieving rightful empathy and kinship with her fans. Calling out this exact behaviour. And now she's the perpetrator, with intention?

There's a big difference between someone saying 'I want you to get just desserts for your immorality' and someone going "I haven't decided whether I'm going to treat you terribly or marry you and love you forever, because that's how little I value you- and I have the power to do this, either one, and you can't do anything to stop me, I have absolute control over you - I could just as easily be horrible to you, 'smash up your life' /'smash up your bike' " - like, what? Who thinks of people like that? Who wants someone who can think of them like that? Value them like that? That is really toxic valuing. Intentionality

I don't think she's the worst person on earth but she does not come off well here.

Also she should never have accepted that money and credits from Olivia being pressured into it. She doesn't need that money come on. It's a bit hard to believe that Vampire isn't about her

.

And also the point, Who's she with now that's making her think like that?

I do think she intended to release reputation in April- that was a planned schedule, for the eras tour, that all of them would be released within the span of the tour and it would be a triumphant achievement that with the eras tour all of her songs were reclaimed. ...but for some reason felt it wasn't ready, so the organised release was already set so she changed what was being released. She at some point decided to release the ttpd album instead, and got it ready, but sort of too quickly, it's a little sloppy and I think it needed more time to be fine tuned. It feels, rushed- the decisions feel rushed. I think it was originally intended to be released after the eras tour. I think it deserved a bit more time.

I love them both but - you do need to be morally consistent and have some perspective.

[lovelikedestiny]

Just some humor and romance with our immortal idiots as a little treat before the weekend💕

“Your eyes look like stones.”

This phrase on itself isn’t something Nicolo would consider as an intelligent observation and certainly isn’t proud of, and the way he says it aggravates the embarrassing situation tremendously: blurting it out like the words could burn his mouth if they stayed in a second longer, so sudden that he startles Yusuf who was drawing peacefully in front of the fireplace until now.

Until Nicolo ruined the relaxed ambience.

Instantly, Nicolo wants to take back every word he has ever said but although he cannot die, the power of turning back time isn’t part of his gift. Unfortunately.

Yusuf blinks perplexed, restless fingers stopping in motion. “I beg your pardon?” He says confused and Nicolo wants God to strike him down with a lightning or the earth to swallow him whole as his face starts to burn suspiciously.

And because his brain shortcuts, leaving him helpless on his own, and Nicolo has the ability to get himself into a right mess, he repeats his remark in a voice not sounding tender or gentle but direct and weirdly loud. “Your eyes look like stones.”

“Oh…” Something closely resembling disillusionment erases a spark in Yusuf’s endless night skies and Nicolo thinks he can detect a hint of disappointment in his tone which is more than he can bear. “Uh…I suppose I should thank you for…that?”

Before Nicolo can work up the courage to explain his hugely failed attempt, he turns back to his drawing, brushstrokes somehow more sloppy than before. Any trace of boldness Nicolo had left dies in his throat.

Because his effort to compliment Yusuf’s magnificent eyes has gone badly wrong.

Clenching his fists at his stupidity and incapability to do something right for once and weave colorful metaphors like Yusuf, Nicolo leaves their cabin. Seeking comfort in the presence of their goats, he vents his annoyance while petting their he-goat. “Why is it so hard for me to do one thing right? Just one thing?”

He waits in vain for advice from his furry companions.

Truth is, Yusuf is always the one forming breathtaking pictures not only with paint but with his captivating words too. With his voice, his facial expressions, his eyes, with his whole being, Yusuf is the definition of passion and creation.

He compares Nicolo’s eyes to a reflection of the moon on a motionless lake or shards of sea glass, having trapped the stunning forces of nature inside their fragile heart.

He shows Nicolo eagerly the sketches he made of him every time he has captured him in simple charcoal when he was cooking, goat milking or only daydreaming, in such a way that Nicolo dares to think of himself as…average looking. Because Yusuf manages to turn his flaws - the too big eyes or his huge nose or his large mouth, not able to smile even - into some kind of charm. 

He compliments Nicolo nearly every day, so often in fact that Nicolo has no idea how to behave whenever Yusuf tells him how his laugh lights up his face or his facial structure is a perfect replica of an ancient marble statue. Or “He is the moon when I’m lost in darkness and warmth when I shiver in cold. He is the kindness that treats the wound the world has caused me when it has shown its worst again.”

The delicate thing that has evolved between them out of their hardly won truce transformed into a cautious friendship is still fresh and Nicolo finds himself wondering at night, as they lie tightly embraced in bed after a weirdly chaste kiss or another new gesture of an affection that has just started to grow, how he has deserved such a man after all he had done. 

After all he had done during the Crusades…after all he had done to his former enemy.

In his first life, Nicolo had always been called verbally clumsy and straightforward; missing elegance in his pattern of speech. He had trouble learning to read, each day staying behind to finish his studies, being the last one of his monastery all the time.

This - the impulse to tell Yusuf how gorgeous he is in Nicolo’s eyes - is new terrain to him, tingling with excitement and worrying by extreme nervousness. Having blown his chance at the first try feels like a heavy stone in his stomach.

No-good, they had named him because he sometimes took longer to comprehend things. Failure, disaster, fool.

He feels like an utter fool now too.

With a groan of embarrassment he buries his head in his hands, tearing at his hair, surrounded by the goats’ pitiful bleating.

Yusuf and he don’t talk much after the…incident, spending their days and nights in the ordinary routine they had acquired themselves but the existing silence between them isn’t comfortable anymore.

It is Nicolo’s fault and he doesn’t know how to fix things, fearing to destroy them further.

On the sixth day he finally takes heart because he cannot endure another night in awkward tension.

“Thank you for the delicious meal,” Yusuf says smiling after dinner, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and stands to gather the used dishes.

Nicolo stops him by placing a hand on his strong forearm, enjoying the body heat seeping into his own skin as if he had been cold before. “Wait!” A swallow, a withdrawal of his hand when Yusuf freezes in motion. “Please,” he adds pleadingly.

But the crucial factor that leads Yusuf to settle back down on his chair appears to be Nicolo’s anxiously trembling hand on the table he hides a second too late in his lap. 

“Is everything alright?” Yusuf wants to know and Nicolo is almost close to crying because Yusuf suddenly seems highly concerned for Nicolo himself. When he isn’t answering Yusuf reaches over the wooden table top, unusually self-conscious in the way he presents the palm of his hand, offering the support of a simple touch. “Nicolo? Did something happen on the market today? Or is it something I s…”

“I’m sorry,” Nicolo bursts out, interrupting Yusuf mid sentence, and bites his tongue inwardly cursing right after due to his lack of finesse in conversing. “Oh my…why am I doing that?” He coughs flustered, suppressing the flight instinct constantly growing inside him. “I’m incredibly sorry, Yusuf. You did nothing wrong, believe me. You’ve been perfect and caring and kind and I want to deeply apologize to you because I screwed up.”

“Apologize for what?” Yusuf inquires, knitting his eyebrows so they form one dark line. “Nicolo, your behavior unsettles me. What is the matter?”

When he leans forward, Nicolo holds his breath, releasing the air only after Yusuf’s slim artist fingers stroke his cheek, calming yet still asking for an explanation of Nicolo’s edginess. 

Faced with Yusuf’s obvious concern and the wish to relieve Nicolo of whatever burden he is carrying on his shoulders, he decides to be honest - simple solutions often prove to be the most effective ones. 

“For offending you with my blunt remark.” Putting all of his eggs into one basket, he takes hold of Yusuf’s hand, slowly interlacing their fingers until their palms are slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle. “I didn’t mean to compare your eyes with stones and it pains me to know I hurt you with my inept words, even though you didn’t let it show.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” Yusuf astonishingly assures him after a moment of consideration, and squeezes his hand as Nicolo grimaces skeptically. “I guarantee you, you didn’t offend me. Was it unexpected what you said? Yes. Did it surprise me? Absolutely. But you didn’t upset me.”

Puzzled, Nicolo scrunches up his nose. “Then why were you so quiet? I couldn’t think of anything else than that I wounded you with my words and induced your disappointment.”

Yusuf smiles slightly at that, finally igniting the familiar spark in the two endless depths. “The only reason why I wasn’t myself the last few days was because I was incapable of figuring out what you wanted to tell me. I’ve heard and used a lot of stylistic devices but your phrase was a riddle I couldn’t solve. What did you allude to?” 

To Nicolo’s amazement Yusuf really just seems to be curious about it and he is crushed by a wave of relief. “Your eyes look like stones. I wonder what you were referring t…?”

“I love your eyes,” Nicolo cuts him off for the second time this evening and Yusuf suddenly makes a wheezing sound, hand getting limp in Nicolo’s own.

“What?” It’s almost funny how stunned Yusuf stares at him, lips slightly parted, except it’s not because Nicolo’s heart is beating so fast it hurts and he is sweating and maybe he is getting nauseous. 

“I love your eyes.” It is a dry rasp and his throat clicks loudly when he gulps. “I love your eyes, Yusuf.” He reiterates quieter, whispers it like a prayer in the hope of voicing the amount of devotion he feels for Yusuf, filling every single inch of his body. “Your eyes are so much more than stones and undoubtedly not so dull.”

Yusuf continues to speechlessly gaze at him, so Nicolo proceeds getting it all out of his system. “I love your eyes, is what I wanted to express with my pathetic phrase.” Following a sharp impulse he gets up to kneel beside Yusuf, not letting go of their interlocked hands for one second. “Your eyes are warmth: like sun-kissed wood and the glimmer of a safety promising hearth fire. Your eyes brim with raw, pure life and whenever you spot something you like they begin to glow with joy, so vivid I can taste your delight as if it were my own.”

At that, Yusuf tries to say something but all that leaves his mouth is a choked gasp and Nicolo has to laugh, more hysterically than anything else. “I can see infinite night skies in your eyes, beholding every opportunity you’ve gifted me with thanks to your benevolence of reaching out a hand to me after I had killed your people and raided your home. Your eyes are obsidian containing stars and I love them…” Nicolo’s lips curve into a barely visible smile, a bit unsteady in the corners due to the emotions overwhelming him. “...because I love you.”

He hasn’t even time to process that he eventually had the guts to tell Yusuf what went through his head days ago when his attempt on poetry didn’t work out as planned as Yusuf grabs the front of his shirt and nothing but reels him in.

Their mouths collide, clashing, but considering that Nicolo is being kissed by the man he loves and hangs on for dear life, doing his best to kiss him back just as feral, he couldn’t care less.

Yusuf cups his face as they part, both breathing heavily. “”Next time you’re going to be poetic, give me a little warning, okay?”

Nicolo giggles wetly. “I only did what you do to me every day.”

“How else am I supposed to show you how much I love you?” Yusuf says affectionately and Nicolo thinks he might die then and there.

“You love me?”

“Every day a little more, ya amar.” His beloved places another kiss on Nicolo’s lips, and another on his cheek, on his nose, on his forehead, covering his entire face with his lips. “Every second a little more.”

Almost a millennium later, Joe - dozing on their blanket amidst thousands of flowers, shining colorful in the afternoon sun - cracks an eye open and Nicky doesn’t even have to see his face to know about the mischievous grin having appeared in his beard. “What was the poetic declaration you used centuries ago in order to woo me? I’m afraid I cannot recall it. Was it something with stones by chance?”

Nicky merely shifts his weight and turns a page of his book, not making the effort of sparing him a glance. “You are the love of my life, Joe, but shut up.”

[sarilolla]

Here’s a unique request. Maybe the voice tormenting Riley in her head

This request was fun, unfortunately, I didn't have enough inspiration to make it that long

Put it in my Bee au, but before the main game (although no references to my fic, it just makes it easier with how I portray Ennioch/the voice)

Request - 674 words

TW: Degradation (not the kink, absolutely not the kink), mild dehumanization (she is a puppet but still), personal threats, knife, descriptions of pain

The little scientist's failures

Summary:

The little scientist failed again. Perhaps Ennioch should remain her why she should listen.

----

The same routine, night and day. Another experiment, another trip out to gather hosts.

Riley had a routine. She did her best to keep to it, or-

Pathetic, as always.

Gritting her teeth together, she tried to continue. A small project sure, but everything was important in the long run.

You can’t do this right. You never do anything right.

She knew that wasn’t true, there were plenty of times-

On the show, little scientist, you managed things, because everything was scripted, even your mistakes. Humorous, perhaps, but I can’t have that kind of incompetence.

She wasn’t incompetent, she-

Don’t fool yourself, or let the others fool you as well. You might be the only of you puppets who is fully capable of following orders, but this… Oh, little scientist, this is sloppy.

Looking at her work, she knew it wasn’t sloppy. It had only failed once that stupid voice started bothering her, a grueling but silky smooth

“Shut up… Please, just shut up.”

Speaking out of line? That won’t do.

Her vision went blurry as tears filled her eyes. Biting the pain was barely an option as agonizing cramps seemed to crush her insides from within. Her body hurt all over. Her head hurt, her arms hurt, and even the band of her goggles hurt. But nothing hurt as much as her chest.

She was sure it'd all be over soon enough. The pain would never last that long, right? The realization she may be wrong caused a moment of panic.

Learned your lesson, little scientist? Wouldn’t want this going on much further, do we?

“Stop, stop it, please,” she sobbed, her voice barely above a whisper as her entire body shook, the pain barely subsiding.

Her host fell to their knees, letting Riley see eye-to-eye with the sleeping form of her beloved Rosco, stirring awake.

“Oh, Rosco? Come here boy.” The voice, this demon, spoke through her, calling for her beloved dog, her best friend and companion, her only joy in this miserable world.

Now, now, little scientist. You have failed enough today, and speaking out of line was just the tip of the iceberg.

The voice said bitterly in a sing-song tone as Rosco trotted over to her. She wanted to shoo him away, tears streaming from her eyes, but it was like her jaw was wired shut.

The giant fluff ball, which was not that fluffy anymore, trotted over to her, ready for a treat or instructions.

We both know I am not as kind as our dear magician. Now the question is, should I have him hurt you?

Rosco’s eyes blackened, a low grumble rising in his throat, as Riley choked back more tears.

Or you hurt him?

She hadn’t even noticed how she had pulled out one of her scalpels, her hand forced to place it just above where Rosco’s heart would be.

“Wait, no, please- Don’t make me hurt him. I’ll be good, I promise. Just, please…”

The knife pressed lightly on the matted golden fur, but at the last second, before she actually was forced to start cutting, she regained control.

Hiccuping sobs rang through the room, as Riley couldn’t even get herself to breathe properly. Rosco whimpered weakly, his eyes back to normal. She wanted to comfort him so badly, but first she had to regain control of her breathing.

Pathetic, like always. Attachments make you weak! That’s the problem with you lot, so attached to one another…

Still struggling with her breathing, Riley put her arms around Rosco’s neck, stroking small comforting patterns into his fur.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to. I never want to hurt you.”

Bursts of tearing pain pulsed through her head. Her head felt heavy and she could feel dizziness starting to kick in. Fitting off the pain caused by the voice, she shuddered as the pain subsided once again.

Truly pathetic.

---

The people want Riley angst, and who am I to deny them :) Also, Ennioch never uses the puppets' actual names, only descriptions of their "character" such as little scientist for Riley (Ennioch uses "Miss Danger for Daisy tho, pushing her danger side). It further pushes the dehumanization of the puppets

[olivereactsaboutgarbage]

One Piece - Volume 30

That’s a nice round number.

Chapter 276 - Shandian Rhythm

LOL! It’s funny, because Wiper is saying “Don’t use my name in vain”, the classic religious rule about God, TO God. “God”. ““God”“. “““God”““. “““Jackass”““. Very nice, very nice. *golf clap*

I’ve been trying to avoid using roleplay asterisks within these posts, but... some things are just too important. *clenches fist while wearing a golf glove*

 And those things are golf.

The insufferable god uses a Harry Potter Patronus to kill Wiper. Zoro wants a turn with the kryptonite. The insufferable god uses a Harry Potter Patronus to kill Zoro. I see how it is... even though he���s gay, the insufferable god’s aligned with J.K. Rowling... just like Dumbledore...

Wiper goes back to not being dead. The insufferable god asks him why he’s bothering, since he’s about to go back to being dead, since the insufferable god is insufferable. Wiper has a backstory, but the insufferable god has sky lasers.

Nami is the insufferable god’s only non-dead enemy. She says they should be friends. The insufferable god says “Sure. I like having allies who are only my allies out of fear.” Nami says “YEAH I ALSO LOVE PRECISELY THAT SAME THING” while sweating.

Chapter 277 - Maxim

Nami decides to have a jetski while she allies herself with the insufferable god. The insufferable god thinks that’s a little silly.

I guess that’s one way to describe electronics.

In this case, the electronic device is a boat-shaped aircraft.

Hmm... I feel like there’s something grand and poetic I could say about how the snake’s purpose within this story is vore, which is a fetish, and by restoring Lufpy, the King of Fetishes, to relevance, the snake is relinquishing its own relevance.

Well I guess it could have taken Asia as a hostage. In doing so, it would have remained relevant, even after restoring Lufpy to relevance.

But it didn’t so now it’s irrelevant.

Which means I don’t need to think about anything grand and poetic to say about it.

Because who cares.

Sometimes I forget that, even though it’s not that way within the context of the list of chapter titles on Wikipedia, within the context of this translation, Zoro is actually one of the characters where I call them by a different name since I changed a single letter. Just like Coins, Wiper, Papaya, Asia, and no one else. Anyway, Lufpy

has a strange reaction to Zoro’s body here which I find interesting. It’s almost like Lufpy’s absurd amount of value placed on the bonds of friendship has merged with a disproportionate level of hero worship. I don’t think Lufpy is... correct, for this to be his first reaction to seeing Zoro, Tony Tony Chopper, Nico Robin, and the knight god badly hurt and ambiguously unconscious and Nami missing. He’s treating Zoro like Zoro held the burden of being an all-purpose solution to any possible way things could have gone sideways. Like some kind of a... Deus ex Machina. When has Zoro ever been one of those? Never. Someone else is the Deus here. And that person is also the one with the Machina. And that person also fucking sucks.

Also, sorry, I accidentally forgot to hit enter until I was already two words into writing the above paragraph. Sorry. I’m so sorry. That was... sloppy of me. I’m so, so sorry. *bows my head in apology while crying golf-ball-sized tears*

Nico Robin isn’t dead, and Asia is a radar, so Lufpy has all the necessary information he needs to head into this arc’s finale.

Chapter 278 - Conis

Wait, hang on, before I talk about Chapter 278, I just remembered yet another thing I wanted to say in my reaction to that one panel where Lufpy reacts to Zoro’s body: I wonder if Lufpy’s tendencies towards unconditional trust and deep hero worship will ever be truly shaken. Maybe when he finds out the redhead thinks South is colder than North, or maybe at some other point in the story. Guess I’ll have to keep reading to find out. Speaking of things I haven’t found out yet, why was the third friend named Rika?

Oh, it’s like the ultimate surveillance state. Nightmarish!

wOULD YOU LIKE TO

Coins runs over a cop with a motorcycle and says that God is bad. Conservatives hate her! Children hate her too, that’s why they throw rocks at her. Speaking of rocks, there aren’t any sky lasers at the moment. Speaking of sky lasers, I feel like I might have said “Coins is now dead” in one of my earlier posts. If I did, I was wrong at the time. If I didn’t, I’m wrong RIGHT NOW. Speaking of being wrong RIGHT NOW, people who hate Coins realize they’re wrong RIGHT NOW.

Coins is saying all kinds of uncontroversial things like “The insufferable Dumbledore expy isn’t a god, and there won’t be any miracles, because there is no kami in this country.” I love linguistics! I’m glad Coins was able to tell us that we shouldn’t worship government officials, and also there aren’t any government officials nearby at the moment. Linguistically. Through language.

Nico Robin, isn’t your power’s SIMPLEST APPLICATION carrying lots of things at once? Just give all your friends’ dead bodies way more arms, and then let the corpses use those arms as centipede legs. You know. Like something out of a horror movie. It should literally be that easy, no?

YAAAAAAAY!!! *the crowd erupts into cheers because someone just hit a hole in one*

Okay, I know Lufpy presumably has a voice which Nami would be able to recognize, but frankly I find the idea that Lufpy doesn’t have a voice because he’s a manga character, so Nami’s one panel of confusion was in part because she had no way of vocally identifying the speaker in that speech bubble, and then her realization in the very next panel is because she recognized Lufpy via speaking style alone, to be far more charming.

...Man I sure do have a bad tendency of writing run-on sentences. Time to let that sentence stand unaltered as eternal proof of my bad tendency of writing run-on sentences, for historians to find later, buried under lots of jpegs of dirt. Then they’ll add my bad tendency of writing run-on sentences to my McWikipedia 4.0 page. The free online encyclopedia that everyone can love, ba ba ba ba ba, now updated to once again change the definition of notability. Now, “notable people” and “people who hate Rick & Morty-themed hotels owned by McWikipedia 4.0′s parent company, Sony” are mutually exclusive groups. The fact that they weren’t mutually exclusive groups was a problematic issue the first three versions couldn’t seem to fix. That’s the kind of future where historians who need to unearth my bad tendency of writing run-on sentences will be living in.

And yes, I WILL be notable enough to have a McWikipedia 4.0 page.

For you see...

I...

AM...

Wait, hold that thought. I just remembered: I’m supposed to be talking about One Piece!!!

Chapter 279 - Pirate Luffy vs. Kami Eneru 

Okay, that chapter title was worth every “This chapter is named after a 1v1″ chapter title that came before it in this arc. What would normally be a ho-hum “yeah this is the one where the protagonist fights the antagonist” chapter title instead feels freaking baller, because all the other 1v1 chapter titles make it feel hard-earned. Consistently listing each combatant’s faction within the 1v1 chapter titles also converts a chapter title like this from “the one where Lufpy fights Eneru” to “the one where Lufpy fights GOD” for added epic. The only thing which undercuts the hype a little is that this chapter title has a typo in Lufpy’s name.

Some people don’t want to evacuate, even after Coins convinced them to convert to atheism, because they want to see their loved ones who were recruited by the military again. A cop says “Being near the military is a job for cops!” Thanks cop! Is this the first time in the entirety of One Piece a cop has been helpful through action rather than through inaction? The gluttonous cop helped Lufpy not get arrested by cops, but it was through inaction.

Oh wait no the palindrome cop gave Lufpy directions. I forgot! Yeah I guess ACAB doesn’t hold true in One Piece. It almost does, but not quite. I guess CAB is true. I guess TAXI is true.

See, this C’s not AB. He was just pretending! Joke’s on them! Ableist slur!

Why am I saying this again? Oh right. Proof for my thesis that One Piece has taxis in it.

*beats this man to death with a golf club*

Oh, this fight is very good. I mean, it’s mostly just a guy I hate using very powerful attacks, so despite how cool the attacks look I can’t wholeheartedly root for the cool-looking attacks, intercut with Lufpy standing around doing nothing, and then a sad face. This is the best fight in One Piece.

Chapter 280 - Floating

Lufpy has type-immunity to electric. Lufpy is a ground-type Pokemon! This is consistent with Lufpy being rice. You see... in the very same arc where we learned that Lufpy was rice, rice was on the ground!

The insufferable Dumbledore expy can’t use electric-type moves... but he now audibly realizes he has other moves. He starts doing “dodge the attack” and “hit someone with a stick”. Then he realizes sticks aren’t that effective and makes it a trident instead. Then he realizes dodging normally also isn’t effective and starts swimming through metal.

No... this is so sad... Lufpy’s least-fetishy special move... exposed for what it truly is: Something only Nico Robin can do... in other words, Lufpy tricking people into thinking he has Nico Robin’s capabilities... in other words, Lufpy altering people’s states of mind to make them believe in something that isn’t true... in other words, hypnosis fetish...

YES!!! THIS IS SO GREAT!!! This is the last fetish Lufpy needed to become powerful enough to slay a god! In my last post, I was briefly under the mistaken impression that Lufpy’s final fetish was vore, forgetting that he already had that one. However, all along, it was hypnosis. Heh heh heh... foolish Dumbledore expy! By debunking Lufpy, you have given him MORE POWER!!! This act will be your undoing!

But first, Lufpy will have to extract himself from the floor. While Lufpy deals with that, the foolish Dumbledore expy decides to go ahead and enact mass destruction like he was planning.

LMAO??? EVEN AFTER ALL THIS TIME, IS GIVING NAMI HIS HAT THE ONLY WAY LUFPY KNOWS TO MAKE HER FEEL BETTER WHEN SHE’S IN A BAD MOOD?

Or wait, were both instances of him doing that because he didn’t want to have his hat on while he fought someone? Now I’m trying to remember what his head has looked like during his various fights, but I’m drawing a blank.

Chapter 281 - Deathpiea

Hmm... according to Wikipedia, this chapter’s Japanese name is “Desupia”. Is this line literally... “[I call it] despair. [It will redeem this world of] zetsubou.”

Asia is a firm believer in 1v1s. Good for her, she’s like five.

The foolish Dumbledore expy’s plan is to create a lightning cloud. Ah... I see... in this land, it’s a perfect synthesis between “execution” and “stuff”! Wait... the foolish Dumbledore expy is using “execution stuff” to “combat despair by enacting despair”... this is just Danganronpa. I think hundreds of chapters ago I said something about Kokichi being a blatant Lufpy ripoff? Well, it turns out Monokuma is just a blatant foolish Dumbledore expy ripoff.

Of course, the foolish Dumbledore expy’s trainer is a Pokemon NPC, and Lufpy’s trainer is a Pokemon PC, which means that when the person playing Pokemon inputs a move, the computer knows what that move is. Since the computer knows what move the person playing Pokemon input, the NPC knows what move the person playing Pokemon input. Since the NPC knows, the foolish Dumbledore expy knows. Therefore, Lufpy is seemingly unable to surprise the foolish Dumbledore expy.

Lufpy tries Passing every turn. Doing so raises his Defense to 100%, but lowers his Attack to 0%. Lufpy tries not having stiff legs. That’s a bit weird for him to do. Lufpy tries using a collision engine glitch. The computer wasn’t programmed to account for that, so the foolish Dumbledore expy is completely blindsided.

Chapter 282 - Desire

The foolish Dumbledore expy is now bragging that he’s pretty much already won. An apocalyptic event IS coming, and the only thing preventing the foolish Dumbledore expy from profiting from that event is merely Lufpy.

To prove how wimpy Lufpy is, he puts Lufpy’s arm in a hot golden ball. In Japanese-speaking countries, a hot golden ball is a hot human testicle. In English-speaking countries, a hot human testicle is a sexy human testicle. That foolish Dumbledore expy...! Lufpy already had enough fetishes to surpass a god! Giving him YET ANOTHER fetish on top of that is suicide!

Lufpy says that he’s not even the only person who’s stronger than the foolish Dumbledore expy--not by a long shot.

I.

I fucking forgot.

There were seven really strong guys.

And Lufpy only defeated one of them.

And they’re already looking for a replacement seventh guy.

...no wonder one piece is so long...

Nami changes her mind about wanting to be friends with the foolish Dumbledore expy. It turns out she only liked him for his lack of having killed Lufpy.

Meanwhile, what’s happening somewhere else, is...

Hmm... how do I make what’s going on here not sound like rape... in a way that’s consistent with the terminology I have injected into my reactions to One Piece... I already met my edgy joke quota last post... what have I gotten myself into this time...

Chapter 283 - On the Front Line of Rescuing Love

Phew... it was a false alarm. Usopp’s not unconscious. He even consented. I can say this without fear: Sanji is using Usopp’s penis.

I FUCKING TOLD YOU, NICO ROBIN! IT’S LITERALLY THAT EASY!

With regards to the sexy human testicle, Lufpy is breathing heavy and trying to get it off. Asia doesn’t want him to do things like that in places where she has to deal with it. Good for her, she’s like five.

Hmm... pedophilia... so much for avoiding an edgy joke overflow. Lufpy’s entire defeat scenario was kind of an elaborate gambit to put me in an “out of the frying pan, into the fire” scenario when it came to making an edgy joke. The fact that the foolish Dumbledore expy would do a thing like that to ME, the reader...! Yep. It’s official. The only thing missing from my hatred of the foolish Dumbledore expy that was present in my hatred of the glasses idiot was the out-of-universe level of my hatred. The glasses idiot was sort of poorly written, so a real-world reason for me to hate him was there. The foolish Dumbledore expy, meanwhile, isn’t poorly written at all. Now that the foolish Dumbledore expy has done an edgy-joke-catch-22 against me... a bad action with real-world consequences... he has crossed over into being my new most hated One Piece villain.

Fuck. Yes. This might be the best One Piece has ever been. This entire reading has been giving me the same “oh, One Piece is REALLY GOOD, actually” feeling I was getting at certain parts of the restaurant arc.

USOPP EX MACHINA??? USOPP DID THE THING THAT’S USUALLY RESERVED FOR ZORO??? USOPP DID IT??? BEST ONE PIECE ARC EVER???

Wait, don’t read the above paragraph. First, ignore the part of my recent character tier list where I said I liked Usopp less than Zoro now. Second, also ignore the part of this post where I said Zoro had never in his life been a Deus ex Machina. Okay NOW you can read the above paragraph.

Chapter 284 - Sorry

Ah, in my last post I talked about how offscreen villain-induced killings are a sexy little trope I enjoy. Another sexy little trope I enjoy, but this time a comedic one: People reacting to the situation they’ve walked into by doing a combo move where they chain from saying “I see” straight into closing the door behind them when they leave.

That’s like half the reason Chapter 169 is my favorite unadapted chapter of the Kaguya manga.

Heh... last time I mentioned Kaguya in one of my One Piece posts, I was able to successfully inflict torment on a single person. This time... I wonder... how many people will suffer in anguish?

Yeah... Nami and Usopp have my favorite character dynamic in One Piece. Probably because Nami is in it.

Uh... I dunno, bro... he attacks using electricity... and it’s an important instrument that runs off of electricity...

Usopp’s slapstick style of “combat” is not very effective against electric-type... does that make Usopp electric-type himself, steel-type, or flying-type? Well, I don’t think Usopp is anything like the foolish Dumbledore expy, so electric-type’s not it. Usopp’s good at crafting and likes to use hammers and stuff, which certainly evokes imagery of steel-type because of stuff like blacksmiths, but he also likes to imagine himself as a legendary figure, which does correlate with flying-type through phrases like “head in the clouds” and “high ambitions”. Not to mention he uses a slingshot, which is a weapon that causes things to fly through the air. So it could be either steel-type or flying-type, or even both. Yeah, actually... both steel AND flying seems like a REALLY fitting Pokemon typing for Usopp. Wait, but my favorite Pokemon types are Water because it’s what Squirtle and Quaxly are, Poison because it’s what Alolan Grimer is and also it’s just generally rad, and Ghost because Pokemon are cute and cute-scary is a delightful combination every single time! I thought better of you, Usopp.

Nami wants to escape with Usopp, but Usopp is a little busy getting killed. Sanji ex Machina.

Nami wants to escape with Sanji, but Sanji is a little busy getting killed. Oh well I guess. No skin off Usopp’s back.

Sanji tells the foolish Dumbledore expy to drop dead, then demonstrates how.

Usopp’s Penis

Chapter 285 - Capriccio

So you know back during the restaurant arc when I said “I thought it would be easy to rank the characters Nami > Usopp > Lufpy > Zoro > Sanji, but now that all this has happened, every single character is so good that I can’t use that ranking anymore because Lufpy and Sanji are way better than I thought they were, and all I really know for sure is that Nami is great and Zoro is the worst”? Same thing now with my most recent ranking getting thrown out of balance by just about everyone being better than I thought they were.

As I recall, I put all the characters into tiers in my most recent ranking. Yeah, let’s see here... Nami is still S Tier, Lufpy is still A Tier, Sanji is now A Tier instead of B Tier, Zoro is still B Tier, Nico Robin is now B Tier instead of C Tier, Usopp is now A Tier instead of C Tier, Tony Tony Chopper is now C Tier instead of D Tier, D Tier is now an extraneous tier that none of the crew falls into.

I’d say it’s gonna suck when I end up liking all these characters so much that they’re all clumped up together in S Tier, but if that ever happens, I’ll just add an S+ Tier to put Nami into.

Nami, Usopp, and Sanji are all like “Let’s find Lufpy, Nico Robin, Zoro, and Tony Tony Chopper so we can leave”. The foolish Dumbledore expy is all like “Well it sucks that Sanji did bad things to me, but this too isn’t enough to stop me”.

This... isn’t the way the arc is gonna end, right...? It’s a Shonen Jump manga. I mean, so is Chainsaw Man, so I guess that doesn’t mean extremely bad things can’t happen. And so was The Promised Neverland so it additionally doesn’t mean endings can’t be bad. Ba dum tsh.

Ah... that classic trope, especially popular in Japan, where the comedic straight man will angrily yell “DON’T DO THAT SILLY THING!” A tried-and-true classic. Whenever it happens, the audience knows that they’re allowed to point and laugh. Anyway,

*points and laughs... but why am i using my left hand to do the pointing? is it because i’m left handed? no, it’s because my dad is left-handed... that’s right, i’m phil mickelson, who’s fucking apparently a famous golfer*

Woah... Lufpy actually called the knight god by his name. He’s like, the only member of The Protagonists of One Piece + Myself who respected the knight god’s request for them to do that. Also, he called Wyper Wiper. I thought I was the only member of The Protagonists of One Piece + Myself who did that!

Oh, Asia is sad. And she’s tiny. And Lufpy is nearby. Phew, this arc will have a happy ending.

Asia, Nico Robin and the corpses, and Nami Usopp and Sanji meet up. Asia and Nico Robin say “Unfortunately, Lufpy is on a fool’s errand to rescue Nami”. Puh-lease. We all saw Lufpy watch Asia be sad. We ALL saw it! That’s not what he’s fucking after.

Fuck. My update might already need to be updated. Nami might have to share S Tier with Lufpy. Shit. Fuck. My joke about all the characters slowly creeping towards S Tier together might just be reality. Fucking shit.

Am I really that easy to please? Quick, I need to reassure myself that I have good taste... um... lemme think...

Bruno Bucciarati and Narancia Ghirga are in B Tier. Leone Abbacchio, Pannacotta Fugo, and Trish Una are in C Tier. Giorno Giovanna and Guido Mista are in D Tier. None of them will ever ascend to A Tier, let alone S Tier, because JoJo Part 5 doesn’t have good character writing.

Phew, it’s not that my standards are low, it’s that One Piece is good. Thank goodness.

Man fuck Giorno and Mista for being the main character and honorary main character of a JoJo Part that had Narancia in it. At least Bruno got to be an honorary honorary main character.

...noooooo I reached the end of this volume... I wanna find out what happens next, but... I need to start writing my Higurashi post...

[life-in-the-monster-haus]

Some people have pointed out you can extremely easily pick the lesbian flag out the leaked howleens hair. While this is probably a delightful coincidence I’m wondering how you feel about howleen being the lesbian rep instead of clawdeen? Would it be a nice treat or a cop out?

You super can! Her hair looks like the sunset flag just upside down.

I want GOOD queer rep in Monster High! I want it almost as much as I want diverse body types. I want it so badly. I’ve DUG deep and unearthed some some queer rep crumbs. Zomby Gaga was technically our first Bisexual Doll, Greta Gremlin is technically our first trans doll with Frankie being the second, Neighthan & Valentine we’re both intended and coded to be gay men written by a gay man. But where or… should I say were was our lesbian rep? Garrett proudly declared Clawdeen as a Lesbian and because he was the creator most fans took his word as law… but this didn’t feel like a victory to me, it felt hollow. It bothered me & I couldn’t figure out why, after being called Lesbophobic by a dozen people on Twitter for daring to disagree with Father Monster it hit me! Years prior Garrett was asked outright if he wrote Clawdeen to be a lesbian & he said it was never intended her to be that way but he supports people who see her as gay. NOW fast forward like 2-3 years? Garrett left Mattel, he was not fired he left. Garrett declares Clawdeen as a Lesbian. The timing is important because not only did this come after admitting she was never written to be a lesbian, he said it years after he left Mattel and no longer had any influence on Monster High, Clawdeen was no longer his character. His word now means nothing. This? Was messy and unfair to lesbians who deserve to have good rep! Not just a sloppy afterthought tagged on later. Mattel clearly did not agree & hammered it home in G3 that Clawdeen’s hobby is “flirting with boys” and in the live action movie Deuce is crushing on her and the feeling is mutual. This had to hurt lesbians who see themselves in her and that? Was cruel. (I’m keeping my fingers crossed for Bisexual Clawdeen).

Now! I told you that story to tell you this story: Howleen has never had a canon love interest, she is also 14, these two things are related because in the episode Fierce Crush there is some type of full moon event going on that is making all of the werewolves lovey-dovey. (It’s probably mating season, but this is a kids show.) it's the first full moon of the lunar leap year.

There werewolves are giving their lunas a token of their love, This Crescent Moon High boy gives his ghoul his class ring.

Clawd gives Draculaura his varsity jacket. (someone please draw her absolutely swimming in that jacket pls)

Dee O'Gee gives his luna his... flea collar... how sweet of him...?

and Clawdeen tells Howleen not to fall into that “I gotta get a boyfriend” trap because she is too young. Howleen takes this as great personal offensive & says she’s not in a manner very fitting of someone whose obviously not mature enough to be dating yet. On cue Romulus helps Howleen with her stuck locker & she makes goo goo eyes at him, Clawdeen instantly tries to curb stomp that by gently reminding Howleen that Romulus used to puppy-sit her.

She tells her friend Lothar who...is someone we have never seen before this moment and we will never see again... That she "Really Likes" Romulus. As her friend, he tries to give her good advice and the advice he gives her IS good advice but she messes up and sets Romulus on fire.

But her attempts to impress Romulus are all in vain because apparently he's into.... The Create A Monster Wolf girl!?!?

Sure... Why not?

Anyways Howleen is kinda bummed by this and Lothar comforts her telling her that "If he can't see how furrific you are? then it's his loss"

Which is once again, really good advice. Lothar is pretty wise for someone we've never met before and we will never see again... Pity, we could have used a wise chubby little brother troll doll.

But then oh no! he likes Howleen! but she only see's him as a friend and the episode ends with narration from Frankie that "Romance can be pretty tricky sometimes. For every Monster who wont notice you, There's someone behind you, you're not noticing and someone right behind them" implying this slug girl has a crush on Lothar. WTF she's cute too! give us slug girl little sister doll!

Now NORMALLY I would say this is Howleen expressing an attraction to boys. That's usually my M.O. of ringing that cow bell that she's into boys and that automatically rules out Lesbian but still keeps the door open for her being Sapphic And OH BOY! I’m gonna eat my own words here but part of being being emotionally mature is admitting when your wrong and I don't think this attraction to Romulus is genuine. I think she is just trying to spite Clawdeen which is her usual M.O., Seem more mature than she is and she's probably feeling pressure from this lunar new year thing, I don't think she's actually into Romulus considering It has never come up before this episode and it never comes up again.

And I'm glad it never comes up again because it's fuckin' gross. He's way too old for her and I mean that in a serious way not in my usual "Romulus is absolutely a 45yr old grown ass man" way. He's gigantic and more than likely a High School Senior or even a Super Senior which puts him around 18yrs old and I know 4 years might not seem like much the older we get but that is a huge maturity gap for teenagers and totally inappropriate and possibly illegal I'm not really sure.

SO! Since that is really the only time we see her show an attraction to boys and no, I'm not counting her kissing the eyeball boy in "Why do Ghouls fall in love" that was her under the influence of Cupid's love spell and not real. it doesn't seem like she's into boys, but once she becomes friends with Twyla? they are never apart! and that is freshman shorthand for "I like You" could I be reaching? could be, maybe, it's possible... I'm not a fan of "they're dating just because they hang out a lot" but Twyla is literally the only person she trusts whose not family.

However, this is all circumstantial evidence, she's 14 and may not be into anyone! despite her protests she is still a baby.

But I don't think her being gay would be a "cop out" I think it would be wonderful lesbian rep if they plan her this way! her and Twyla is a huge ship and I find it adorable. there's gotta be SOMETHING there if so many people ship it. normally I don't go with the flow with ships I need something there.

But a lot of gay kids see themself in Howleen and if anyone could be the one to show them it's okay? it would be her. Howleen spent the entirety of G1 trying to find herself.

I think it's time she does.

[velvetcloxds]

ooo you said you want a request for oliver wood? feel free to ignore this but could you write something about the reader taking care of oliver when he’s sick/injured?

(i don’t know if that’s specific enough so i’m sorry if it’s not)

STUBBORN| O.W.

Hii Jess!! Thank you so much for requesting lovely <333 I'm literally turning into an Oliver girl the more I write for him so thank you for indulging me!!

Paring: Oliver Wood x fem!reader

Word count: 1370 words

Warning: none that I can think of- it's just a little short because I'm still getting the hang of his character.

Summary: Oliver gets hurt during quidditch practice and you go to the hospital wing to take care of him.

“He asked me to make you promise that you wouldn’t be angry,” Harry explained, and you raised a brow at the boy, pulling your books against your chest as he led you towards the hospital wing.

“If he didn’t want me to be angry, he should’ve listened to me when I told him not to go to practice,” Your comment earned a slightly uncomfortable smile from Harry’s lips as he looks at his feet while walking, not sure how to react. “Sorry,” You sighed, moving your books into your bookbag as you neared the door. “Oliver tends to be stubborn when it comes to quidditch, which tends to end with me being worried, and that usually tends to end with me visiting said stubborn boy in the hospital wing with the injury of the week,” Harry nodded at the explanation, stilling next to you at the door of the hospital wing.

“Madam Pomfrey said that even though he hit his head when he fell, he doesn’t seem to have a concussion- she’s not concerned as least, said he just needs someone to stay with him for a while as she monitors him,” He smiled as you nodded. “I think he’ll be alright,” He offered optimistically.

“Thank you for coming to find me, Harry,” You returned the boy’s smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly before he leaves. You walked through the door carefully, waving at Madam Pomfrey when she spotted you walking in.

“Hello, dear,” She noted, looking up from the research book in her hand and pointing towards the sickbay, Oliver being the only person in the entirety of it and you shook your head lightly as you saw him. “He’s been asking for you,” she told you with a knowing smile, allowing you to go in to see him without any objection, smiling still as she refocused her attention on the book in her hands.

Oliver noticed your presence instantly, turning his head to see you, a tired grin lacing onto his lips as you quickly made your way to his bed, stilling at his side with furrowed brows.

“My love,” He noted softly, reaching a hand out towards you and smiling even more when your fingers entwine with his, your free hand lifting to his head where you gently moved your fingers through the short tendrils of brown.

“How’s my injured boy feeling?” You asked with a soft smile, annoyance from earlier having slipped away as soon as you saw him. “Do you have any pain?”

“I’m alright,” He began, and you allowed your eyes to travel over his body, not noticing any bandages or noticeable discomfort. “My head hurts a little, but Poppy said I could leave in time for dinner, she just wants to keep an eye on me for a few hours,” He offered meekly, fiddling with the hem of the blanket draped over him. “I’m sorry for not listening to you,” He explained, stopping his fingers as he looked at you. “You said the weather was too bad to practice and you were right, like you always are,” You smiled at the statement, lightly scratching at his sculp.

“Don’t think about that,” you said as you removed your hand from his hair long enough to place your bag on the floor, smiling when his other hand reached for your shirt to keep you close. “I’m just happy that you’re not hurt too badly,” The boy offered you a warm smile as his hand tugged at your shirt to pull you closer towards him. “What can I do for my sweet boy?” You asked him, a smile of your own as you watched his eyes jumping over your features, he shook his head. “How about some water?” You suggested to which he nodded as if coming to the sudden realization that he was in fact thirsty.

You lifted the glass of water from the bedside table, holding it for him as he took a few slips, eyes locked on you as his fingers surrounded yours around the glass, hand falling to the bed when you moved to put the glass back.

“Thank you,” He mumbled as you did so, hands somehow finding yours again as he gently scooted over on the bed, silently asking you to join him.

“You want me to hold you?” You mused; his behavior not strange at all as the boy always seemed to get a little more needy after he got himself injured. You nodded as he offered but a mere tug at your fingers as a reply. “Alright my love, I’ll hold you in second, just need to check with Madam Pomfrey if it's okay for you to sleep yet.”

Oliver wasn’t happy with the comment at all, watching with a clear frown as you walked over towards the woman, talking softly among yourselves as she assured you that Oliver was just fine, though you were going to make the boy stay awake for just a little while more, just in case.

“Can you come here now?” He asked, tone laced with impatience as he even lifted his blanket for you. You smiled over at him, carefully kicking off your shoes and moving them under the bed before taking hold of his outstretched hand and sitting down beside him, pausing before laying down.

“Does anything else hurt, Oliver?” You question softly, wanting to be sure before just clinging onto him. He shook his head, grabbing your waist to guide you into his side, a small laugh escaping your mouth as he gently forced your head down onto his chest. He released a satisfied little sigh when your hands found his shirt, smoothing the surface slightly out of habit.

“Thank you for coming,” He mumbled after a second and you twisted in his hold to look up at him, not missing the clear signs of sleep tugging at his features. “I know you had a whole lot to get done today.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here,” You note simply, lifting a hand to his chin to steal his attention from the ceiling, his eyes closing for a second as the sudden comfort you provided clouded his already tired mind. “You’ve got to stay awake for a little while more, darling,” You reminded him sweetly, his eyes finding yours in an instant, a sloppy smile on his lips as he stared at you.

“Hmm,” He hummed in acknowledgement, hearing what you’re saying yet not registering the words as he delicately pulled you closer. “I like it when you call me that.”

“Darling?” You mocked lightly, watching a slight blush creep onto the boy’s features, his sleepy state along with the adrenaline wearing off, leaving him an all but swooning mess as he holds onto the person he loves so dearly.

“I love you,” He stated in the same flustered tone, and you rested your chin on his chest to look at him. “If this is how you treat me after getting hurt, I just might just get hurt more often.”

“You couldn’t possibly get hurt more often than you already do,” You mused and traced small shapes over his shirt, mindlessly, as the sensation simply aided in lulling him into his slumber. “And you shouldn’t dare attempt it either, you’d drive me mad with worry, Oliver Wood,” The words emitted a groan from his lips, and you raised a brow.

“You worry about me?”

“Only constantly,” You confessed, his eyes opening quickly. “Your self-preservation instinct is severely lacking, darling,” You informed him, and he gave you a guilty smile, your hand leaving his chest as you moved to tuck the blanket back in around his side where it had escaped its place.

“I’ll be more careful then,” He declared. “I enjoy you taking care of me, but I don’t want you to worry,” He lifts a hand to your face, nimbly tracing a finger over your lips.

“That’s all I ask,” You replied, kissing the pad of his thumb when it stilled on your bottom lip. “Though in the meantime, I don’t mind taking care of my sweet and injured darling,” He laughed softly, shaking his head as he pulled you back to his chest, arms wrapping around you even tighter than before and you melted into the feeling completely.

MASTERLIST

[bangtangalicious]

death valley (m) | part 8

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.0k

warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important. 

a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo. 

part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | series navi | masterlist |

F L A S H F O R W A R D--

Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.

You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?

The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth. 

You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.

Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties. 

His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.

His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.

Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment. 

You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you. 

Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe. 

Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.

Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?

Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.

What exactly you were playing, you were unsure. 

“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?” 

You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.

“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.

“With who Y/n?”

You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead. 

“You. I was with you”

F L A S H B A C K--

The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape. 

Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already. 

It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?

Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer. 

Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes. 

Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more. 

To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.

You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all. 

When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.

Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead. 

Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him. 

But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him. 

And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him. 

Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago. 

Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.

He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should. 

He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?

He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.

Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now” 

-

Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.

Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?

Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...

Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals. 

“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”

Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.

“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.

“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?

“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing. 

You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”

“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”

Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”

“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”

Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”

Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”

You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.

“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”

Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?

“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.

“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.

“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.

The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left. 

Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”

You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”

You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.

You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”

Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his. 

He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.

You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts. 

“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.

He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down. 

“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after. 

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”

He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.

"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”

He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out. 

“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”

You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.

“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.

“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you. 

“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”

His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”

You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease. 

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”

“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.

“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.

He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.

“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly. 

You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady. 

"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook” 

You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”

-

Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.

“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.

“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.

“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.

“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”

Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”

Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”

-

You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you. 

You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.

“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk” 

You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”

Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”

You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”

He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”

The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.

“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.” 

No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”

You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.

“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”

"No” You blurted. 

“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”

As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.

Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.

Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life. 

Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi. 

-

“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”

“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”

Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”

“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”

Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.

“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.

“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”

Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees. 

Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.

You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor. 

Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good. 

“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.

“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.

He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.

“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”

“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.

Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”

“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”

“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”

“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”

Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”

You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it. 

Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.

He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.

He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more. 

He slapped his palm  onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place. 

“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”

Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further. 

“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow. 

“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure. 

“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly. 

“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.

You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.  

“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers. 

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.

On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.

-

Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious. 

Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.

“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.

“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger. 

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor. 

“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”

Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis. 

“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”

You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”

Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”

“Hold on!”

Too late. You pulled the trigger.

-

Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight. 

So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.

He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel. 

-

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind. 

Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him. 

He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations. 

You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.

“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.

Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.

“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.

“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”

Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you. 

“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his. 

“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”

Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble. 

P R E S E N T  D A Y--

Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him. 

After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.

The question remained how and why. 

“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.

All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way

You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.

“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.

“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in. 

You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.

“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”

The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.

“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.

You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.

That watch. That’s his watch.

Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?” 

“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.

Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.

Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal? 

smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.

see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth! 

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie​ @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies​ @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

; good enough

© @pedropcl

lee bodecker x fem!reader.

summary. your father invited you to his birthday party and things ended badly.

words. about 2.3k.

warnings, tags. nsfw, +18!!! drunk state, language, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, very brief degradation, mention of bodily fluids, very brief mention of violence. and i think that's all.

a / n. first time writing for this man that has me obsessed, so i hope y'all like it! none of my writings contains reader's body descriptions to be inclusive. if you find something out of place, please send me a message and i'll change it.

You didn't want to be there, but it was your father's birthday and you couldn't miss it. More than thirty minutes had passed since the last time you saw your husband standing in a corner of the large living room, sipping from his glass of whisky and judging every guest around in silence. Lee hated your parents, your family, their friends. And you didn't blame him. Your family never accepted him, always repeating that he wasn't good enough for you, nor your interests. Except for your mom. She wasn't the only one who didn't treat him like dirt.

Once that you escaped from your father's arms, showing you as a trophy and trying to set you up on a date with one of his best friend's sons, you stepped out of the house to the back garden. It was cold outside, having to close your jacket around your chest as you closed both arms over it. Following the footprints on the grass, you reached the improvised parking where different cars were stationed. The smoke coming from nowhere called your attention, glimpsing Lee sitting on the hood of his black Ford. Cigarette in his left hand and bottle of whisky in his right.

You doubted for a second to interrupt his moment of peace for the first time in two weeks. Two long weeks where you barely had spent time together. He started holding over his shifts because, apparently, there was too much paperwork to attend. You couldn't help but think that he was raving mad about you, or about something you did unconsciously. But the real problem was that your husband never used to talk about his feelings or what was going in his mind.

“I think you've drunk enough”. You uttered watching him raise the bottle to his lips.

Lee chuckled ironically, shaking his head. “Lucky me I don' care”.

Frowning and with your mouth pressed closed, you walked towards his position to face him. He had never talked to you like that, but he was being honest, shrugging his shoulders to point it out a little more.

“I do. I do care”.

“Don' worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna shame you in front of your family”. He scoffed bitterly, finally sipping from his drink. “Watya' doin' here anyway? Party's indoors”.

“You're here tho”.

“And who fuckin' cares, uh? You were having so much fun inside with that… pretty boy who works in Wall Street”. Your husband mocked taking a drag from his cigarette. “We should divorce, don' you think? So you coulda go with him to the big city, and don' be stuck in… How d'your father call it? Knockemshit. Stuck with a… fat sheriff of a shitty town”.

Lee didn't notice the tears blurring your gaze till he raised his face. The bitter smile curving his lips suddenly disappeared, putting his pale blue eyes away from you because it was too painful for him to watch you cry. Your husband gulped hardly, kissing his teeth as he threw the cigar somewhere on the ground. You couldn't believe he really wanted to divorce you, wrapping your heart with a suffocating sorrow that barely let you breathe. He was your life and, after three years together, he seemed to not give a shit about it sometimes.

“I ain' like them”. You whispered sniffing.

“Tha' doesn' change the fact that you don' deserve a man like me. Your father is right. 'M a fucking loser compared to anyone inside his damn house”.

You loved Lee with all your heart, soul, mind, body. He was everything you want in your existence —your life. So damn obsessed with his touch, his kisses, his smell of wind and leather, his smile, that beautiful pair of pale blue eyes. You refused to believe he was talking seriously.

“You should be there. I— Imma go home, tell your mo—”.

Before your husband could finish his goodbye, you interrupted him by slapping his face. He didn't see that coming and you'd never imagine yourself hitting him. But you needed it, seeming the only way to stop him from abandoning you there. He kept his face away from you, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His drunkenness suddenly disappeared, pressing his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue whilst rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. You were so mad right now that you could set on fire the whole world.

And you were about to do it a second time when Lee caught your wrist in the air, painfully gripping his fingers around it to push you closer —chest against chest. Then, he raised his index finger. “Don' you fuckin' dare to try it again, y'hear me?”

You were furiously breathing, but not filling your lungs with air in reality, keeping your eyes on the blue ones that used to steal your heart every single day. It was like a contest of dominance you knew he always won. Any time.

Your husband didn't give you the chance to say sorry, slamming his lips on yours. A moan died in his tongue when it invaded your cavity while releasing your arm to fly his rough big hands to your ass, almost grabbing it all with his long fingers. Your digits went to the lapels of his leather jacket, not lasting too much there till finishing on the back of his head.

Lee was hungry for you, just like you were for him after two long weeks barely touching each other. Your husband devoured, sucked, and bit your lips, urging you to turn around enough to push you on top of the hood of his car. His hands pulled up the skirt of your dress, wanting to reach the waistband of your panties, receiving the great surprise that you weren't wearing any.

“You little dirty girl… Don' wantin' your Sheriff to lose time, uh?” He grunted with such an animal and eager tone, as he took care of the belt and the zip of his pants.

“I need you”. You sobbed against his lips, feeling his hands maneuvering between your legs.

At least, you were fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand when Lee rammed his rock dick into your soaked cunt, drowning in your palm a loud cry of pure satisfaction for being filled by your husband. Back and forth, he hit your body once and once, impaling you against the Ford still being furious by the way your father and friends treated him as if it was your fault. Lee was mad, really mad, digging his fingers in your hips to pin you on place and don't move, continuing fucking you harder and harder —challenging you to not be able to be quiet and make everybody heard how good he used to made you feel.

“Goddammit… you're so damn ti— tight, baby doll… So tight fo— for your daddy, ain' ya?”

“Yes… Yes, daddy”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

His strong scent filling your lungs caused you to roll your eyes white, letting your soul leave your body while his cock attacked fiercely your pussy with no mercy. Your vocals were in sync with the screeching noise the car produced in every thrust straight to your guts. The pace was insane, intense than never before, and more pleasurable than you could imagine in your life.

Lee was aware how much you loved him, that you felt devotion for him. But sometimes —sometimes like those— he couldn't help but think he could lose you as soon as you realized who he was in reality. You didn't care. You weren't blind. You knew about his dirty laundry, his past, his sister (...). And you still wanted him with all your heart and body.

“Fu— Fuck, gonna put a… baby inside you”. He growled, wrapping his right around your throat to urge you to face him. “Y'want it, uh? D'you want dad— daddy to put a baby in that… beautiful belly?”

“Yes… please, Lee”. You whined with teary eyes, being too much pleasure for your body to handle. “Please, daddy… I wa— want you to… get me pre— pregnant with your child”.

Your husband's lips curved up in a petty smirk, pulling out from your dripping cunt, causing you to sob in disappointment. Lee managed to put you down on your shaky feet to turn you and force you to bend over the hood of his car. Ass upped, legs spread. He only took a second to stare at your glistening and abused folds in your arousal, prior to impaling you again. With a hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your head, your husband obligated you to arch your back as he continued banging your anatomy once and again.

At this point, you had forgotten your name, where you are, and if someone could hear how you cried pleased any time he crashed against your g-spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain as Lee wasn't having any kind of compassion with your cunt, clenching unconsciously around his hard length. He knew then how close you were to cumming for him —because of him—, increasing the pace while you tried to find a place to put your hands on and find some balance to stay in place. As soon as the hand tangled in your hair landed back to your throat, you gripped five fingers around his wrist, enjoying the brief lack of air because of it.

“C'mon, my swe— sweet whore… Y'wanna cum for daddy, don't ya?”

His raspy and wrecked voice fell into your ear like an angelic melody, not being able to hold your moans anymore within your mouth. The knot inside your lower belly was bigger and bigger and suffocating, feeling how it could explode at any time. Lee shoved his cock non-stopping producing a sloppy obscene sound when his pelvis crashed against your ass, along the chink of his belt against the back of your thigh.

“Daddy… Daddy…” You called him while the tears started to fall again through your cheeks, this time, of absolute satisfaction.

You couldn't help but bite your lip strongly till the metallic taste of blood covered your tongue, letting yourself go as the knot bursted within your belly. The orgasm threw you above the edge with your husband's palm covering your mouth to not be heard or it would be really awkward to be caught by all the guests, even if he didn't care. He wouldn't mind showing that pretty boy from New York that nobody could fuck his little dirty girl better than himself. Oh, how funny it would be to see his face while your husband was ramming his cock into your abused pussy, cumming inside your tight walls, digging his teeth in your neck to mark his territory.

Lee came with a sensual and passionate hoarse gasp causing you goosebumps bristling your skin, burying himself balls deep to hold it inside the mix of your juices filling up your center. It felt like being in Heaven, although you weren't sure if you could walk after such an intense quickly, feeling your walls burning as his dick still twitching and stretching your cunt.

Your husband wasn't a man of kisses after sex, that's why he surprised you when tilted your face to his and pressed his lips on yours, panting, not caring about the lack of breath. It wasn't a lustful kiss either, more than a tender and fondly one, tasting your mouth, playing with your tongue.

Pulling out his semi-erection, Lee helped you to clean yourself with a tissue before using it to clean your arousal on him and toss it to the ground. As he put on his pants, you fixed your dress and your hair, turning around.

“You meant it?” You dared to ask, still having sorrow covering your voice. “Gettin' divorced… You mean it?”

“What?” He inquired, squinting confusedly until he realized what you were talking about. He chuckled holding your chin with two fingers. “You married me, darlin'. There's no other way you're gonna spend your life but with me. Willingly or not, you hear me?”

Lee raised both eyebrows very sure of his word before you nodded your head with a fleeting smile crossing your lips.

“Can we go home now…?”

“'S that what you want?”

You nodded your head a second time, while your husband placed his arms around you with hidden possessiveness to guide you back to your childhood's house. And of course, your father was enraged when you told him that you were leaving with your husband. He yelled at you and nobody tried to stop him till the moment he had the brilliant idea of pretending to lay a hand on you.

Lee punched him. Lee broke his nose. Lee made your father fall to the floor between the pretty boy's arms. And Lee never felt better in his whole damn life.

“Don't you ever come back to this house, if you leave now with this… bastard”.

“She doesn' need you”. Your husband cooed wrapping your neck with an arm, leaning slightly to borrow your purse. “Ma'am, my pleasure a see ya' again. The beef was delicious. G'night”.

You were yet processing what just happened, ashamed of the desire for your husband himself awakened inside you after watching him hitting your father. Lee could be a total asshole sometimes but one thing was undeniable: he loved you with all his heart and soul, he was obsessed with you since the very first time his oceanic eyes contemplated you walking down the street, smelling a bucket of roses you bought for yourself.

Never again you knew anything about your family. Not even when your son, called after your husband, was born. But you weren't sad. As Lee said, you didn't need them. You had your own family to take care of.

feedback is appreciated. if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment so i can know your opinion. reblogs are needed.

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[1kook]

commercial break ; NINE

this is part of my netflix & chill series!

SUMMARY “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” WARNING angst with implied smut at the end!!, flashbacks, low self esteem, alcohol consumption, jk is (implied) a virgin in this, there’s a lil fondling by oc u know the usual  MISC they r soulmates <3, our queen doyeon returns, i tried to use symbolism👁 in the dialogue so yes everything drunk oc says has a meaning hehe RATING m bc alcohol WC 2.2k

NOTES i said once a long time ago that n&c couple were prolly at the same party once but didn't realize so hERE WE GO ! its not proofread bc um. yeah<3

Homecoming week. 

Jungkook doesn’t even think his university’s football team is good, but he had read somewhere that part of the college experience is obnoxiously supporting this team all four years. And well. Jungkook wants to fit in. Frankly, Jungkook feels a little dumb having accepted this invitation from Kim Taehyung from his first-year writing class. He’s only known the man a solid four weeks, probably won’t know him this well once Taehyung finds real friends, ones who suit his outgoing personality, and decides Jungkook is too boring, but Jungkook will make the best of it while he can because, again, he wants to fit in. Badly. It’ll be different this time, he had told himself while getting ready. You won’t be awkward anymore. You’ll make friends. 

And then it’s nearing midnight and Jungkook has spoken to a whopping two people at this party of over a hundred. Not including Taehyung, it’s down to one. Even that had only been to ask where the bathroom was. He feels severely out of place, like he’s both too large and too small to be in this area, to be at this party, so he shuffles into the kitchen when he hears them call for another match of beer pong. He’s actually pretty good at the game, has refined his skills at get togethers with his older cousins. But it’s not like anyone here wants to be Jungkook’s partner anyway. Or even knows who he is for that matter. 

Taehyung had bumped into him a little past ten, had had two girls clinging to his sides when he had greeted Jungkook. One of them had almost looked tempted, Jungkook wanted to believe, brushing her hand against his arm. But he didn’t act quick enough— what would he even have done? what did he even want? —and Taehyung disappeared with both girls soon after, leaving Jungkook by himself once more. 

The kitchen is empty, the drinks long since having migrated to the living area of this huge frat. With a defeated sigh, Jungkook sinks back against one of the counters, setting his lukewarm cup of beer down beside him. He’s buzzed, drank in a feeble attempt to ‘lose himself’ as all the movies claimed. But now all he can feel is a pounding headache threatening to consume him. He doesn’t even like drinking— why did he drink this much? 

He should go home. 

Events like this, parties like this— they weren’t meant for someone like Jungkook. He was too quiet, too shy to let loose like everyone else. He doesn’t do well in social situations, or at least not as well as his therapist had told him he would. He hesitates too much, never speaks when he needs to. Haerim from his freshman basics class had even said so. “You’re quiet, huh,” she had smiled, and when her notebook had touched his elbow, he flinched. She didn’t take it to heart. Just like Taehyung wouldn’t if he left right now. They know how he is. He doesn’t belong here. These types of parties were made for outgoing people, people who lived on the edge, people who weren’t trapped in their own thoughts all the time, people like—

Like the girl who stumbles through the doorway now. “Woooo,” she slurs, and then promptly faceplants into the dirty tile of the kitchen, the same tile littered with sticky footprints and random debris. He can’t even imagine what else is on the floor of a frat house mid-party. Jungkook flinches at the sound of her knee hitting the ground, before rushing over to help her up. 

She’s a giggling mess, eyes half shut by the time Jungkook gets her into a seated position. “Are you okay?” he flounders, hand on her shoulder when she wobbles again, nearly falls back down. 

“Just peachy,” she sings, flashing him a sloppy thumbs up. Her neck isn’t doing a particularly good job of holding her head up and when Jungkook places a hand on the back of her head, she leans into it, blissful smile on her face. She’s really pretty, it makes Jungkook’s cheeks burn when she aims it at him next. “Pucca loves Garu,” she lets him know, eyes finally fluttering open. “He’s a pretty boy.”

Jungkook blinks. He has no idea what you’re talking about. “Huh?” he stutters, glancing back at the bar stool by the counter instead. It’s probably infinitely times better than the sticky tile beneath your bare legs. “I’m gonna stand you up,” he tells you, taking your loud cackle as a sign that you’re okay with it. Jungkook’s been working out all summer, so you’re not heavy in the slightest, arms thrown around his shoulders while he slips his own around your back. Your proximity leaves him drowning in your scent. 

The giggles don’t subside when he sits you down, not even when he begins opening random cabinets in search of a glass to get you some water. He’s had his fair share of experiences looking after drunk people, so he has a pretty good idea of what to do now. However, your sudden bout of commentary certainly doesn’t make it easier. “Isn’t it, like, super cool how the sun and the moon are, like—“ a hiccup, Jungkook settles on tap water “tooootally different beings, but, like— they, like, both maintain the earth?” Your hand reaches for his forearm when he returns, gives him this little squeeze in your excitement. “Like— Like they both have to, like— work together? To keep it perfect, y’know?” 

Jungkook pushes the water into your hands. You’ve got this sparkly sheen to your eyes, the one that most people get after one too many drinks, but it’s accompanied by this childlike wonder that leaves Jungkook breathless when you meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he says quietly. You beam. It’s blinding. So blinding that Jungkook promptly looks away, nudging the cup in your hands. “You need to drink this.”

You frown. “Boooo, so boring,” you huff. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t heard before, but it is a little disheartening to hear it from a stranger. He stamps the feeling down, pursing his lips as he gives up on letting you drink yourself. The cup is swiped from your hand and Jungkook tasks himself with making you drink it instead. And of course, like all wasted young adults, you put up a fight. “Ew, what is that?” you spit. 

Jungkook sighs. “Water.” 

At his defeated tone, the exaggerated grimace slips off your face, replaced with a rather solemn expression instead. Jungkook tries to take advantage of it and pushes the cup against your lip again, but all he really accomplishes is sloshing it down the front of your dress. You don’t yelp, but he does. “I’m so sorry,” he panics, sliding the sleeve of his shirt down around his thumb to wipe your chin. 

You let him, head tilted curiously to the side. Jungkook tries to ignore your analytical gaze until: “you’re cute,” you announce, and abruptly send him into shock. 

He recoils, face a blazing mess. “I’m—“ he chokes, swallowing when you wipe your hand down your own chest, leave a glistening layer of water over your sternum and down between your breasts. 

“Cute,” you repeat, downing the glass he had been trying to coax into you like it’s nothing now. With it gone, you don’t waste any time, throwing your hands around his shoulders, fingers brushing through the hair at the base of his neck. You pull him close, so close in fact, that he ends up having to hold the back of your chair to keep from accidentally crushing you with his weight. “Your name, pretty boy?” 

He can’t think. You’re so drunk and smell so good and are just so pretty— his brain short circuits. “Um I’m, uh, Jeon J—“

“Jeon,” you repeat, silly smile back on your face. You’re not technically wrong, so he nods along with a blush high on his cheeks. “Well, Jeon,” you purr, but you’re still so drunk, eyelids fluttering in a rather funny way. “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?”

Jungkook doesn’t even know what that means, and honestly, he doesn’t really hear you over the thundering of his own heart and the bass in the other room. “Um, but you’re really…” he stammers, leaning back but a finger loops around one of his curls and he gasps when you pull at it. “You’re drunk,” he rushes out, lower lip trembling when your nose knocks against his. 

A soft hum, the sound sending electricity down his spine when you cup his cheek. “But don’t you think I’m pretty?” you murmur, eyes flickering to his mouth. 

“Yes,“ he chokes out, “you’re a very, very pretty girl. But I really shouldn’t—“

“Hey,” you shush, tilting his head just the slightest. Jungkook has never had a girl touch him like this, has never even touched a girl before either, but, well. He really wants to kiss you. And that’s saying a lot considering Jungkook has never kissed anyone before. 

Despite how good it feels, he knows you’re still really drunk. It’s with a decisive huff that he pushes away, hands on your waist to keep you from touching up on him any further. You’re not that strong anyway. And then he’s met with the biggest pout he’s ever seen, an absolutely distraught look on your face. 

Something in him says you’ll cry if he doesn’t explain himself soon, so he launches into it right away. “You’re very pretty,” he says, almost laughing at the way your entire face lights up immediately. “But you’re very drunk.” You huff. “You deserve to be treated like a queen.” Mostly regurgitating something he heard in a motivational video. 

It works. Eventually, you stop being fussy in his arms and settle with a frown. “You’re too nice,” you grumble, forehead on the countertop. He doesn’t see how it’s much better than the floor but he lets you be. “You got a girlfriend, don’t you?” 

At that, Jungkook laughs. “No,” he reassures you, hesitates, and then gently pats your back. Jungkook actually feels you melt under his touch. That sultry look is gone, replaced with this rather tranquil look that he doesn’t quite understand. 

“That was pretty,” you murmur, but Jungkook doesn’t quite hear. 

“What was that?” he asks.

“I said your smile was pre—“

“There you are!” someone hollers from the kitchen doorway, the shrill tone of their voice making both you and Jungkook jump. When he turns around, he’s met with the sight of a rather tall girl angrily stomping your way, eyes a blazing fire, fists clenched by her side. Jungkook realizes only a second too late that she’s looking at him. “Get off of her, you sweaty city-owned dumpster,” she hisses, using the strength of three football players to push Jungkook away. “You make me sick—“

“Doyeonie,” you beam, launching yourself into the angry girl’s arms. Ah. The Help had arrived. 

Said angry girl (Doyeonie?) is still using every mash-up of words possible to degrade Jungkook as she hauls you into her arms, shooting daggers every step of the way. “I can’t believe you would try to take advantage of a poor girl when she’s this drunk,” she spits. 

“What?” Jungkook coughs, cheeks warm. “I wasn’t—“

“Tell it to Campus Safety when I report you, you wannabe, dollar store Rain.” Jungkook clutches his chest at the acidity of her tongue, surprised anyone could be so mean. 

All things considered, this was actually good. Someone who knew you had come to take you to safety, meaning Jungkook didn’t have to look after you anymore. When this Doyeonie turns around, he’s met with your smiley face smushed against her shoulder. 

(It’s weird. He’s a little sad to see you go.) 

“Bye, Jeon,” you giggle, hand brushing down his arm, squeezing his hand, before you’re abruptly yanked away. Jungkook manages one weak wave, cheeks lit ablaze once more when you send him a silly air kiss from the doorway, urging him to catch it. He does, and he feels really silly when he puts it in his pocket, but he can hear your laughter for a second more before he loses you. 

The last few minutes being so hectic, he decides to go home. Parties weren’t really his thing. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever go to one again. 

Until a few years later. 

“You’re, like, really pretty,” you slur, lips against his throat. Another invitation, this time, Taehyung’s birthday. His friend had practically begged him to come, knowing how Jungkook was. In the end, it had been you who had accepted on his behalf. 

“Baby, not here,” he laughs, hand on your shoulder when you try to shove your hand down his pants for the third time that night. 

Taehyung had been ecstatic to see Jungkook here. And then had quickly become annoyed when he caught the two of you making out in his storage closet an hour later. “Bro, don’t be that couple at parties,” he had groaned, locking the door behind him. 

Jungkook had laughed. “I wouldn’t know what ‘that couple’ is at parties,” he reminded him. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sure your girlfriend can fill you in.”

Apparently not. You’ve been trying to kiss him for the past three minutes but keep missing because you’re so drunk. “Just one,” you beg, so pretty but so drunk. The fake lashes you’d worn today make you look like a doll, batting them his way until he’s giving in, slotting his lips against yours. You’re probably going to throw up in his bathroom when you get home, so he should make the best of your kisses now. Jungkook pushes that thought aside as he reaches a hand out to wipe at the sweat accumulating on your chest. There’s something weird about the gesture, like he’s done it before at another party. But that doesn’t make sense; he couldn't have— this is his first party with you. 

“We should, like, leave,” you whisper against his ear, fingers burying themselves in his hair; when you pull on a strand, he nearly moans. “Go home. Maybe netflix and—“ a hiccup that makes him smile “—chill?”

Jungkook kisses your temple. “Sounds good to me, pretty girl.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[evakuality]

Matteo - Episode three

Social Media - There’s so much of it this week!  At the time, I only followed a couple of accounts and then only saw the rest when it was posted to the tag.  I think I’m grateful for that.  This is absolutely overwhelming, the sheer volume of things the characters were putting out.  But it’s also really nice that we get all this normal teenage life stuff.  It really does allow an immersive ‘this is real people doing real stuff’ feeling to everything.  Particularly people like Kiki and Sam who have little to do with the plot.  It keeps them real and alive through a season where they were a bit more sidelined (and I love that Matteo and David’s little trip later on keeps them alive in a way that doesn’t overpower Amira’s season - this is a really clever way for the producers to keep fan favourites active without having to shoehorn them into places where they don’t belong).  I am also a bit concerned about some of this though - how on earth did the boys not get in trouble for filming the dancing girls and posting it to social media?  At most schools I know that would have resulted in some serious discipline action.  However, the most fascinating thing about the social media is the party at the end of the episode.  Sara didn’t start posting much on her stuff until much later in the evening (the reason this post is so late is because I was waiting to watch through all the social media before I worked with it - and there was so much for so long that I was able to notice the patterns in it in a way I didn’t at the time) and then Leonie took over and it was interesting what she chose to show and how non-perfect it all was compared to what Sara was trying to do before she got really incapacitated.  I know it’s not technically part of this episode but the text string between the two of them the next day where Sara panics over how Matteo might take seeing her in such a sloppy drunken state is very telling.  She really really wants to put on a show to make sure he’s not turned off by her not being ‘perfect’ - again, this is all very subtly done but there’s a really strong push to show how much of what is put onto social media isn’t a real and true depiction of who we really are.  And of course that’s most important for Matteo himself.  He’s still very actively putting on a front and it’s only partly to try to cover for the fact that he’s interested in boys not girls.  He’s really not happy or at ease with pretty much any aspect of himself, but he’s also not really willing to show it to anyone.  Except David.  Which we’ll see as we go through the clips.

Clip one - Matteo’s shelf in the fridge is so sad!  Someone (a parent maybe?) should really be making sure he has food and is looking after himself.  We touched a bit last episode on food and nurturing and what we see here is Matteo very much not nurturing himself.  Even more so than Sara, he has no care for his own wellbeing.  Also he’s relying heavily on other people (Hans in this case) to do the heavy lifting for him.  It’s also a major contrast to the playful, if disgusting, sandwich he made with David.  Here it’s really just about putting something in to his body and there’s no thought for anything other than basic survival.  Which is, tbh, a good metaphor for Matteo’s approach to his life at this time.  The chat with Mia again veers close to things that are difficult for Matteo - he’s wearing David’s beanie, trying to get that bit of closeness to him, but then Mia starts asking awkward questions about why the kitchen was so terrible and what Matteo was up to and it’s all a bit tough.  Matteo tries again to deflect and lie to cover his tracks.  Which... is he ever going to learn?  This lying is forever getting him in hot water when he’s caught out.  Jonas even calls him out on it, basically saying ‘if you’re going to use me as an excuse then give me a heads up first’ showing that he has Matteo’s back, but is incapable of helping him if he won’t help himself.  At this point, of course, Matteo has closed off because there’s a lot he finds too hard to talk about but Jonas is already giving those hints that he’d be there for Matteo if only Matteo would let him be.  But at least Mia’s pushing serves one purpose - Matteo makes contact with David again and they manage to connect and get over the little hitch that David’s ditching caused.  Both are still hiding bits of themselves from each other (David more so obviously), but both are quite happy to make these connections and are comfortable with each other.  That David responds is so nice; it sets up the dynamic so different to the original and Matteo is much more secure in David’s friendship than Isak was with Even at this point just because of this.  Then of course Matteo does the gay test, and it’s clear he already knows but he’s just sort of trying to work through some things.  It leads to some of the things he says later that are quite unfortunate (both to the boys about the dance teacher in this episode and to Hans later about the ways to be gay), but I think there’s a genuine desire to figure out what gay might look like rather than any truly homophobic stuff.  societal expectations and stereotypes and our own internal biases mess with us big time!!

Clip two - There’s not a lot of difference with the dancing girls clip, but it’s nice to see David again and the interactions between him and Matteo are a lot more natural than with Isak and Even.  I guess because these two are in the same year, it’s much easier to pass off knowing each other and so Matteo really is a lot more casual than Isak ever was.  The tone of the ‘why does he have to be so gay’ is different here too - Matteo’s much more low key and subdued when he’s called out on ‘why do we insult gays’ and he’s apologising fairly quickly.  It really is much more obvious that he’s trying to work out what ‘gay’ is than trying to distance himself from the idea of being gay.  He has a lot of issues and a lot of stuff to work through but it’s entrenched in an entirely different way to the og even though the words are almost exactly the same.  The power of acting and body language!!  Of course, this makes sense for both characters too - Isak and Matteo have different experiences and different lives and so they each act in a way that makes sense for them.  I’m super impressed that the same conversation can look so different - both actors are very very good.

Clip three - This scene with Matteo and Sara works much better for me than the one with Isak and Emma.  But perhaps that’s because Sara is allowed to be much more of a rounded character rather than a plot device.  We can say all we like (and Leonie is so clearly right there with us) that Sara needs to wake up and see how badly Matteo is treating her, but the way this is developing makes it clear why she thinks and acts the way she does and we can have a lot of sympathy for her even while rolling our eyes at how obviously this is not working out.  This right here is the moment where Matteo really should have said ‘yeah sorry, this isn’t working for me’ but he chooses not to because he still wants that security of having ‘someone’ if the thing with David turns out the way he expects it to (eg, David and Leonie being a thing).  He wants the ability to hide and say ‘see, there was nothing there, I have a girlfriend so I’m not at all upset that David has one too’ and it’s shitty behaviour and it’s totally unfair to Sara, but at this point Matteo can’t see beyond his own needs.  Sara is very clearly not happy with the situation and she rightly feels sidelined and unappreciated but she is still willing to accept his word when she puts those words into his mouth.  She’s still invested in this fantasy in her head and she is carefully scripting it so that it goes the way she wants it to.  Like last week when she was talking over Matteo to avoid hearing anything he’s saying, here she’s literally telling him what to say to get the outcome she wants.  Leonie has quite obviously got a better handle on the situation, but Sara doesn’t want to hear it.  Sara, again bless her, is very open about what she wants and needs from a relationship and how she’s feeling.  She refuses to take Matteo’s very half-hearted attempt at sweet talking her at face value and demands some accountability.  But it’s the very nature of those demands that sets her doom.  She tells him what she needs and he gives it to her - only it’s a very pale and weak imitation of what she would really like.  He uses her communication skills to play her.

Clip four - I loathe how no-one takes Matteo’s wants and needs into account, pretty much ever.  He’s in such a rut of being used to just going with the flow that even when he tries to assert his own wants people straight up ignore him.  It’s sad that he allows Kiki etc to basically commandeer his home for their party but it’s very much in keeping with how everything else is going.  Last week, Kiki was super irritated because she had a picture of how things were going to go (they would have their event and Matteo would host it) and she couldn’t deal with things not being under her control.  I suspect that if Sara hadn’t been with them and hadn’t done the speaking for Matteo, he would have been bullied into doing what she wanted then too.  He clearly doesn't want to do this , but at least he uses it as a way to get closer to David.  ‘Well, this party idea sucks, but maybe I can get this guy I like there’ and so he goes right up to him and invites him.  While he’s quite checked out of significant parts of his life, when Matteo really wants something he’s not scared of going after it.  Of course, as we see in later events, this gets him in trouble at times.  But for right now it’s nice to see him taking some small control of his life.  This is only possible, of course, because he was able to connect with David fairly quickly after he left last week.  The fact that they are able to do this is testament to how easily they do understand each other and even while its awkward, this relationship doesn’t have the underlying tensions that the one with Sara does.  It’s awkward in a positive way.

Clip five - there’s lots going on in this one.  The studying and how little interest and engagement Matteo has with it.  The consequent stalking of David on Sara’s account, the flow over into looking for David’s favourite movie, and of course Hans and his intrusion into Matteo’s quiet space again and then his attempt at using grindr.  It’s a slow, fairly quiet clip and yet Matteo ends up doing a lot in it.  It shows again, I think, just how much he values his time by himself and how much it works for him to be allowed to do things at his own pace.  I’ve said before I really enjoy seeing the characters in their own environments being chill and just hanging with themselves.  It shows us a lot of how they are.  In this case, Matteo moves very quickly from the boredom of the studying to things he has more interest in.  Like David.  He’s restless and disengaged, using all of his tricks to try to distract himself (playing with plants etc) and then very quickly giving up on what he should do.  I like that we get these sorts of smaller, lower key indications of how much David means to him as well.  It’s not big grandiose expressions of interest, but he watches the movie because David likes it.  He can’t even let himself stare at the picture for too long because it feels like a huge admission (he literally breaks eye contact with it and looks away the way he often does with David himself).  It’s in these unguarded moments in his own space that we really see Matteo and he’s a mess, but he’s a mess who really does want connection and to find meaning with someone.  

Clip six - We all love this one, right?  It’s such a nice moment with David and their almost-kissing is very intense.  But there’s a lot going on before that that I also want to look at.  First, the way the boys call Matteo a ‘player’?????? how???? That’s his girlfriend?????  He is playing her and stringing her along when he shouldn’t, but he’s not playing the field which is generally what we mean when we say this sort of thing.  He has one girl and that one girl has made it pretty clear that he is hers.  In many ways Matteo would be better off if he was playing the field - then there’s no expectations and he gets a rep as a ladies man.  But this works better for him - he can sort of fall into it and follow along with it without having to put any effort in at all.  She literally speaks for him, even.  I have always found it fascinating how much Matteo keeps to himself in this clip.  He hugs the walls like they’re his home and Sara is out there in the middle and there’s such a disconnect between the way they’re both acting.  How would Matteo have coped with the expectations Sara outlines about sex had she not got so blind drunk she had to be taken home?  It seems like it would have led to something very awkward and maybe she’d have finally got the picture.

Laura's little visit to see Matteo is cute too.  Obviously she knows that David is interested and so she checks him out.  It’s a shame it’s interrupted by Hans who then monopolises Matteo, but she was quite deliberate in finding him and speaking with him and I love the sibling support.  David’s shirt he chooses to appeal to Matteo is hilarious too.  The thought process (and the discussions with Laura at home beforehand) must have been brilliant.  ‘I always wear black and am mysterious and aloof and cool, but to attract this boy I will wear a white shirt with a stupid picture on it’ - that it does attract Matteo just shows how attuned David is to his future boyfriend.  Maybe he’s stalking the instagrams too - the Matteo Monday and Florenzi Friday do suggest that this is something that might appeal to Matteo.  

Hans and Andi bother me too.  In much the same way that I dislike that Sara assumes that Matteo not wanting sex with her means he’s gay (like?  It’s okay not to want sex!!  It doesn’t say anything about your sexuality), I don’t like that Hans has talked about Matteo to Andi and allows him to be so forward and aggressively sexual with someone who is very obviously not willing to be out.  I know Hans is trying to be there for Matteo and to encourage him to accept himself (I think it’s pretty clear that he knows or thinks Matteo likes guys).  But this is a party with all of Matteo’s friends.  What did they think would happen?  Why did they think he’d react in any way other than the one he does?  Hans looks confused when Matteo pushes away and leaves, but why?  This behaviour is entirely consistent with everything we know of his character. That it ends in an actual panic attack makes it all much more sad and difficult to watch.  Honestly, outing people when they’re not ready is not cool and Hans should know this.

The panic attack itself is so well done.  There’s no dialogue and yet we can see very obviously how Matteo is feeling and just how ‘normal’ this is to him.  He has a set of behaviours that he follows to try to take the edge off.  He throws things (this is his go-to when he’s stressed and he does it a LOT), he tries weed and he finally tries music and sitting by himself, cuddling a cushion for comfort.  I know a million people have discussed this at length, but I don’t think we can speak about this clip without at least touching on it.  Everything about it is done so well and it all combines to allow Matteo’s feelings to shine through.  I love that it’s allowed to happen at a party and that we see very clearly how these things can be overwhelming for characters.  I won’t go on anymore, but it’s just great and the acting is so perfect.  I genuinely think this small part of this clip is probably my favourite acting out of everything in this show.

And then of course we have the stuff after everyone else has left.  Again, a million people have discussed this in a million ways, but I love how this scene again shows how easily they get each other, how good they are at communicating with each other and how quickly they get on the same page.  Matteo has no trouble at all saying what he thinks and pressing for information.  This parallels Sara in some ways - she is like this with Matteo, making her wants and needs clear and putting herself on the line.  Again, this is all very good set up for later on when Matteo finally finds himself in her position and realises just how much his behaviour hurt her because he’s living her side.  However, unlike Matteo, David is quite clear and honest back.  And that’s why they can so quickly move into a potential kiss.  As with Matteo and Sara, there are close ups as they lean into each other, but somehow it feels like there’s more space for them to breathe here.  The camera allows them both to be in the frame naturally, whether Sara is often invading into Matteo’s shots.  Here, they’re both on board and both want it.  I like that Matteo gets a moment to be open and himself after his experience with Andi.  It must take a lot of courage to do this after he was so badly affected earlier.  Testament to David’s calming presence which reassures rather than pushes, and how honest they are with each other - there’s no way David could miss how relieved Matteo is when he finds out that Laura is David’s sister not his girlfriend.  They’re both very brave here - David for telling Matteo he looks good and Matteo for trying to take that next step even after his panic attack.   And I think that’s a nice place to leave this.  Because that’s already such a lot and this has all already been said before.  

[tabikuntz]

I love when men mock me. Call me names. Tell I’m being dumb. Say they don’t think so, of that’s not right. When they correct me. When they condescend. When they laugh at me. When they are mean. Rough. Tough. Hard. When they take it out on me. I love when men abuse my bottom and hate fuck my ass and ravish my holes because I don’t deserve any better. When they slap my big dumb fake tits. When they beat my bimbo bottom black and blue. When they use their words to cut me down, to put me back in my place... or a little lower each time. When they force me down. When they dumb me down. I love feeling my IQ slip away until it was never there and it never comes back all the way but I can never figure out what I lost. I love when I only think I can think, but I’ve always been wrong. When I’ve always really been dumb. When I thought I was pretending but then I really do feel real dumb. When I learn how to get it wrong every time so He will always abuse me like I need Him to. Because I always will get it wrong. Because I’m really really dumb. Going blank as He tells me to just forget. Just to forget all those notions I had... or didn’t really have... all that thinky stuff that’s too hard.... fuck ! I love when He wipes me out by pressing my bimbo buttons. When he says I’m just a girl, and thinking’s not for girls. And I believe it. I feel myself believe it. Believe Him. Believe in Men. Because it’s true. Because Men are superior. And us girls are just dumb cunts who can’t read or write or do math too well, if we can at all—

so why even try to teach us ? Did I even go to any school ? I can’t remember and I don’t even want to. I love being in this kept-down born-lesser role. I love Male dominance and sexism and misogyny and being gaslit and having my mind confused and blurred... erased ? Put in a fog ? having my soft pink girly memory changed and corrected to reflect the truth of how of course He is right because Men are always right. Like they always have been. I love how it feels. Not to have gotten any smarter. Not to know how to the most simple easy things that Men can do so easily. I love how it means I need Men, in my life, to think for me and decide for me. I love needing Men so much I’ll accept however badly they treat me. Because I need them. And I’ve always needed them. I always will. I love being so helpless. To have always gotten dumber, each day. Every way. As a girl. As a silly little girl who always needs Daddy. I will always be Daddy’s girl.

I love being this way. I love being such a bimbo. I love being just some silly little inbred dropout retard nympho dyke bimbo— dyslexic and ditzy and just born slow and sexy. Just a sex object, just a thing that can’t resist or fight back or say no when some ripped muscle hunk is pushing me plastic porn tits over face down ass up into that beer-sloppy bar and tears into my girly cunt pantyhose or trashy bitch thong if I even like remembered to wear any but anyway He’s ripping into me and brutally shoving a pool cue up my asshole for as long and as many inches as it takes for me to beg. Beg for His naked Cock. Beg Him to nut in me. Beg Him for an orgasm. Just one tiny one. Face down ass up. As I stare dumb and numb into the mirror at my stupid face blushing to be butt-raped once again in a bimbo bar like some tweaking painted tranny boy buzzing on the fuck rush in a cock-cruising flaming-pink skintight fucktube of a minidress going blank in the matching seven-inch sex spikes staring at my matching nail polish like I dunno why as it happens to me again... as He cornholes me into being His glory hole... being drugged by what’s in those pink bimbo drinks or just that fucking suggestible... with no will always needing a Man...

[tinyboxxtink]

"...So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 6*

Note I was going to put a 'rough sex' gif under the cut for Lewis's shot, but I don't know if people want that. So here's a scared Rafael for your...pleasure?

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

Alright SO I posted a warning post earlier, but obviously I'm gonna put one here too.

This is probably the most graphic, dark chapter I've ever written for any story. With rape.

Please read at your own discretion.

Also it's a pretty short chapter, but trust me-- you wouldn't want it any longer. But I wrote another sweet short fluffy chapter after this one to make up for it.

@madamsnape921

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@milkshqke

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@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

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

You did your best to keep calm and keep Billy happy as he aggressively groped at you with his hands, ripping off your shirt and then your bra before tossing you on the bed. Before all of this, you would have been super excited about the events transpiring. If there was one thing you and Billy were great at, it was sex. But somehow, this time it felt...different.

You didn’t know why, it didn’t make any sense to you. This was the same man, it was the same situation, he knew all your special places and you knew his. There were so many nights after he left you and the girls that you would dream about this moment, wishing for it so badly. But now that it was here, it almost felt...wrong.

“What’s wrong sweetie, you look like you’re somewhere else,” Billy stopped hungrily nibbling your neck to look into your eyes.

You used to look into those eyes and see such warmth and comfort, such lust and wanting. You had even told Rafael that you were still in love with Billy, so why didn’t you feel like it? Had they just been words? Words to hurt him because he hurt you by choosing Olivia?

Right now, that’s sure what it felt like. It felt like you were...cheating, on Rafael. Which was stupid, because you had literally just broken up with him. Didn't you? That’s what ‘done’ meant, right? Surely you had meant it in that moment; surely you meant it.

But now you weren’t sure.

“Hello, earth to Y/N!” Billy’s voice grew more agitated as he flicked you across the temple. He had never been so quick to anger before, you didn’t like this one bit.

“S-Sorry, baby,” You quickly put on a smile as your hand travelled down to his jeans, unhooking his belt. “It’s just been a day,”

“Oh, I know sweetheart,” He quickly changed his tune as soon as he felt you fondling with his belt. He helped you undo it and pulled off his jeans. You could feel his throbbing erection against your thigh.

“But daddy’s about to make it all better, I promise,” He gave you a sly grin.

You felt one hand wrap around your head and pulled it into his face even more aggressively than before. He began tugging at your hair as he attacked your neck and shoulders with hard, assertive bites. You remembered the sex between you two being rough, but you didn’t seem to recall it ever being this rough.

"Don't you like that, babe?" He asked as his mouth moved down your torso, pulling off your jeans this time.

"Mmmhmm…." You tried faking it as well as you could, feeling more and more uncomfortable the lower his mouth moved.

"Y'know, you used to be a LOT louder than this when we'd get down and dirty, baby girl," he observed while he moved to the end of the bed, ready to plunge inside you.

"Well Billy, the kids are in the next room," you thought of a plausible excuse as to why you weren't your "usual" self.

"Oh, makes sense," He nodded with a smile as he started chowing down on you like a sloppy dog.

You wanted to enjoy it, you tried to enjoy it, but you were accustomed to Rafael's sweet love making, he was so gentle with his tongue along your folds, taking time to enjoy every little moan and pleasure noise you made.You could often feel him smiling inside you while he gently lapped you up. You wished so badly you were with him right now. How had you fucked this up so badly?

Why didn't you listen to Rafael when he told you about Billy? Why had you not trusted him more? Why did you just react erratically just because you were mad at him? You should have thought it through, you should have heard him out. You should have--

"Alright now you're not even reacting Y/N, where the fuck are you?" Billy demanded.

"O-Oh I'm sorry Billy its just been--"

"A day. I know. You know I had a stressful fucking day too Y/N, having to deal with that prick ADA--- Wait," His eyes suddenly narrowed, he moved his face away from near your opening and looked you in the eyes, his glare in full effect.

Shit.

"Is that who you're thinking of right now? That fucking beaner?" He asked in an accusatory tone.

"He's Cuban not Mexican…." You muttered with a roll of your eyes.

"You really wanna get fucking cute with me right now, bitch?" He acted as if he was going to back hand you, but stopped himself.

"Billy!" You gasped. He had never been vulgar to you before.

"No, no Billy," He growled, pulling your naked body towards him.

"You're gonna stop thinking about that asshole right FUCKING now. I'm your goddamn husband, NOT him. I get to have you whenever I want and I want ALL of you. All of your attention, all of your fucking body. Do you understand me?" He snarled, practically drooling with rage.

"Y-Yes Billy," you tried not to start crying, now fully scared out your mind

"Good. Now flip over, I can't fucking look at you right now," He ordered you.

You flipped over to let him do doggie style but he started going in the wrong hole.

"Billy! What the fuck?" You tried not to yell.

"Well if you're gonna act like a whore thinking about other men than your husband, then I'm gonna fucking treat you like one. I'm gonna do what I want, and you're gonna shut up and take it. Got it?"

"B-Billy, please…." You pleaded with him. "Y-You know the last time we tried…"

"I don't give a FUCK, Y/N," He barked angrily. "I stopped last time because I didn't want to hurt you, because I loved you and you loved me. But now you've hurt me, so you're gonna hurt. REAL BAD," He barely rubbed some spit on his dick before he rammed it up your asshole.

You grabbed a pillow and screamed in pain, howling and trying to wriggle free from him. But he kept his hands wrapped tight around your stomach as he pumped rough and hard as fast as he could, getting off on the pain he was causing you, both mental and physical.

You tried to think of anything other than the pain, but it was so bad you could only cry and continue to scream into the pillow. It was worse than both times you went through labor, and that was saying something.

You prayed to God it would stop soon, he seemed to go on forever and ever. He was cackling softly as he felt you vibrating from the pain.

"Yeah, bet your fucking ADA didn't do you like this did he? What would he do if he saw you now? Hmmm….maybe we should find out,"

Your head snapped from out under the pillow at his threat. You saw him reaching for your phone that he had dropped next to your bed as he carried you into the bedroom.

"Oh God" You practically choked out, unable to speak from the pain. "N-n-no, Billy d-d-don't…"

"Oops would ya look at that I already did," Lewis shrugged with an evil smile.

----

Rafael was busy helping Olivia plan a rescue mission/battle plan when his phone went off. A FaceTime call request from you. He was absolutely terrified to answer it, but he had to answer it. He had to. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't.

"Hey there Barba'' Lewis panted, a maniacal smile on his face. "You're missing all the fun!"

He could see Lewis had you pinned to the bed, shoving in and out of you forcefully. Your head was shoved into a pillow, to keep from screaming he imagined. He didn't know if he wanted you to look at him or not. He was watching you get raped, and he wanted to vomit.

Olivia noticed the horrified look on his face and stopped talking with the squad.

"Rafa are you-- ohmygod!" She instantly saw the revolting scene on his phone and immediately started pushing him into an interrogation room.

"Nobody needs to see this," Olivia started to shut the door but not before Lewis got to shout "NICE TO SEE YOU TOO DETECTIVE!!" At her.

Rafael was trying his best not to start sobbing; he didn't want to give Lewis the satisfaction. But the more he heard your muffled whimpers and screams of pain, the more he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Lewis let her go," he begged. "Please I'll do anything you want, just let her go…."

"Well see Barba that's the problem," Lewis smirked. "I want Y/N to--" he suddenly stopped pumping you, feeling your body go limp. He angled the phone downward to reveal blood coming out of your anus and starting to cover the bed. You had passed out from the pain.

"Sorry Barba I'm gonna have to call you back, I have a situation," Lewis half laughed while wiping your blood off his dick.

"What the fuck-- LEWIS!!!" He screamed. "You better be calling a FUCKING ambulance!"

"Chill Barba, I'm sure she's fine. Just a little boo boo. I'll shove some toilet paper up there and she'll be good as new!" Lewis dismissed it, taking a pillow and putting it under your legs so the blood would at least attempt to stay in.

“Good ol’ RICE,” Lewis smirked, thinking of the old term they used in gym class back in the day. ‘Rest Immobilize Cold Elevate’.

“Now if I can get an ice pack from the freezer and tape it there…” Lewis thought out loud.

"Fuck you if you don't call one I will send one, I know exactly where you are" Rafael was losing his patience with him.

"NO, you're not," Lewis warned. "I'm not about to scare my girls by having cops and ambulances showing up here with all the bells and whistles,"

"She's going to DIE, asshole!!!" Rafael continued to scream. "You think your daughters won't notice THAT?"

"Look if she doesn't wake up in a few minutes I'll take her to an Urgent Care, tell 'em she liked it a little TOO rough, Kay?" He said flippantly.

"The fuck you will--" Rafael started to tell again but Lewis put the phone up to his face real nice and close.

"If you send ANYONE here Barba, she'll bleed out before you can touch her," He warned.

"Lewis…" Rafael was shaking. "Don't you love her? You told her you did, don't you care about her at all?"

"Of course I love her!" He snapped. "I'll always love her, she's the mother of my children. That creates a bond, greater than the two of you will ever have,"

"So why are you---"

"Because she needed to be reminded of that bond." Lewis explained. "She was thinking about you while WE were being intimate. I can't let shit like that slide, Barba," Lewis explained while gesturing to your unconscious body. He removed the pillow from your head so Rafael could the tear stained splotches on your face from screaming and crying so hard. Your face was almost white, he wasn’t even sure you were breathing.

"No…." Rafael's voice fell soft.

You had been thinking of him? Wishing you were with him? While Lewis was...having his way with you? He had caused this, he had caused your pain. You were being punished for simply loving him, and that broke his heart even more than it already was.

"You have a nice night there, counselor, ta!" Lewis's evil chuckle came through the screen before it went black.

The image of your body laying there unconscious and bleeding was going to be forever burned into Rafael's mind. He had to do something. SOMETHING.

He bursted out of the interrogation room where the team was still discussing strategy. Olivia immediately went to his side, knowing what he had just been through.

"Liv we--" he tried to stop from crying and compose himself. "We have to go there. We have to get her. We HAVE to,"

"Okay, Okay Rafa," Olivia tried to calm him down while the rest of the squad looked on in shock. They had zero idea what was happening.

"We'll go get her, it'll be okay," She assured him while trying to get him to calm down.

He hoped they wouldn't be too late.

[thebestworstidea]

The Green Knight’s Lady (4)

Sequel fic to “The Witch and the Green Knight” (on Ao3)

Warnings: undeserved redemption arc, graphic imagery and as of this chapter violence against minors.

Chapter 1: In which Rowan has Unexpected House Guests

Chapter 2: In Which They Try to Figure Out What the Hell is Going On

Chapter 3: In Which Remus and Rowan’s Stupidity Escalates to Treason (sort of)

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

Chapter 4: In Which Life is Difficult

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

     The winter waned in a sloppy miserable way, kicking out with a few snowstorms like the flailing of a dying animal. Despite not really being bothered by the cold, D.N. practically hibernated, most often found in a window seat in the library, going through Rowan’s Mother’s books and being snarky about bad information about fairies. Rowan was fairly sure it was just a way to safely lash out. She dug out an old laptop and gave him access to the Netflix account. If nothing else it kept him distracted. Something Rowan had learned was that the fair folk did, as legend said, love stories. 

And apparently, soap operas and romcoms.

Like herself, Remus seemed out of sorts in the late winter, though more in the way of someone who had woken up long before they wanted to. He’d gone into the woods and returned dressed in his more normal attire, also having brought back a few changes of clothing that was closer to D.N.’s size, and of a finer make than anything in the Baker house, despite Rowan’s sister’s cautious attempt to find a fabric the fae child would like. For the most part, the rest of Rowan’s family treated D.N. with cautious courtesy, and a certain level of ‘not be alone in a room with him’. Remus, by contrast, was treated more as a benign nuisance, though not without kindness.  Frankly, that was more understandable than Rowan’s blase attitude. That didn’t stop a certain level of speculation as to why ‘Leif’ and his friend were staying with them.

     “I’ve figured it out!” 

Rowan balled a pair of socks and tossed it in her sister’s basket across the table. They were sorting the laundry by owner, and Rowan had made it her mission to find as many pairs of socks as she could. 

“Figured what out?” 

“What’s going on with Leif and the kid!” 

“Have you now?” Rowan said dryly and a little nervously. Her sister nodded. 

“It’s pretty obvious if you think about it. The kid is the spawn of the last fairy king.”

“What.” 

“Look, it’s obvious that Leif served him, right? And we know he’s dead. So then Leif disappears for months and reappears with a kid? With scales? We know that Leif’s traveled outside Wickhills before- so clearly he knew where the kid was, maybe he was even the one who took him away, probably more of a Cronos eating his kids thing than a Arthur sent into hiding thing, and now he brought him back.” She pursed her lips. “You know, I bet Leif can change genders like a frog.”

Rowan started laughing. 

“Leif might even be the mother-” she went on. 

“Definitely not.” Rowan choked. 

“But he is related. I’ve connected the dots.” she said smugly.

“You haven’t connected shit.” Rowan retorted throwing a pair of pants at her.

“I’ve connected them.”

     As spring burgeoned forth, Remus agitated with the need to leave the house. It was clear he wasn’t used to staying in one place, even for a few weeks like this. Rowan could always tell when Remus had gone wandering in the night, because D.N. didn’t come down from the attic until he’d come back. It wasn’t as if D.N. was avoiding his so-called hosts, so much as he was totally avoiding the humans in the house as much as possible as if by pretending they weren’t there he could pretend none of this was happening. 

When spring officially arrived Rowan made them clothing, a shirt of heavy green broadcloth for Remus, and a more delicate shirt of the finest white linen she had for D.N. The shirt he generally wore was made of undyed silk, and Rowan feared that the substance had come from the shroud- or rather bag- she’d sewn for the bones of the Serpent King. It was tricky to give them, as D.N. certainly wanted no gifts from her, and Remus wanted to gift her in return. But it was simply tradition, that for the first day of spring everyone had a new garment. So her green brother and erstwhile guest needed something new too, for luck. Honestly, Rowan thought he could probably use all the luck he could get.

     It was a fine warm day in mid April, when leaves were finally starting to show, and only the most stubborn bits of snow were sticking around in the darkest shadows, when Rowan was working in her garden.

“Little tree! You’re wearing pants!” 

The whippy rose vine Rowan had been arguing with slipped out of her hand as the twist tie sprang from her other, and she took the momentary break to glare at Remus, who had appeared in her personal bubble with no warning whatsoever.

“I wear pants all the time.” she retorted, giving him a half hearted shove. 

“Yeah, but usually you have dresses over ‘em.” theatrically, he collapsed to the scrubby grass outside the garden and sprawled in the sun. 

“Well, I learned that arguing with rose bushes in a dress doesn’t end well for the dress.” She grabbed hold again with her gloved hand, and pulled a fresh tie out of her apron pocket, lashing the thorny vine to the wrought iron trellis that kept most fae out of her garden. They could, in theory, pass under the iron arbor that faced the wood, wreathed as it was in plants, but until Remus it hadn’t been much of a problem. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly. He was looking better. He’d been kind of wan, a sickly sort of green rather than his normal healthy hue like a ripening acorn. 

“Starting to feel my oats.” He responded, tipping his face into the sun. “It’s a good spring. I’d say that spring was happy about something.” in the distance, a door opened and closed.

“Seasons do seem to have emotions.” She agreed, and had to step delicately over him to get to the next bush, pulling clippers from her pocket and studying the bush thoughtfully, before pruning a few branches, and returning to tucking them in safely so they wouldn’t grab passers by too badly.  That done she carried the trimmed branches away. D.N. emerged from the widdershins side of the house, having exited the front door and walked so he didn’t have to pass the rowan tree, even if he could do so under the protection of the porch. He glared down at Remus with frustration. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Having a kip?” Remus suggested, as Rowan stepped over him again to get back to the rose bushes. 

“You should tell me as soon as you come back from the forest.” he said grouchily, not making eye contact. 

“Well, not much is going on, so there’s nothing to tell you.” Remus shrugged. 

“That’s good right?” Rowan asked. 

“A secret unsaid is a secret kept.” D.N. muttered, not addressing Rowan at all. “What are you doing out there anyway?” 

“Favors.” Remus sighed. “So many favors. I’m not exactly a favorite right now. People don’t want me to do favors for them, but I need the currency. Also fixing up my house.” he rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s kind of out of the way, so it might be safe enough. It’s nice enough to visit with my little tree, but…”

“We can’t stay here forever.” D.N. agreed. “It buzzes.” 

“Yeah.” Remus nodded. “So I’ve got some improvements to make, and gotta reassert my territory. No one got near the tree, but I don’t have much around it.” he clicked his tongue “Fun and all, but I’m in a hurry.”  he made a kissy face at them both. “But I’ll always hurry back to you.” 

Rowan snorted, and D.N. rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms and cocked his hip, glaring down at the green-clad fae. 

“I’m sure whatever you stay in is better than this.”

“Hey, owch. It’s a good house. We finally got the roof fixed last year.” Rowan glared, waving her clippers at him. D.N. leaned away. 

“Well it’s hardly the hovel I’ve seen other witches live in,” he sneered at the Victorian style house. “But it isn’t anywhere I would choose to stay.” 

“Sorry for not being a magical house.”

“Oh it’s full of magic alright. Human magic, thick and inelegant, like mud on the bottom of a pond.”

“I like mud.” Remus commented, popping up and bracing himself upright on his hands. Rowan noticed that his knuckles were reddened and split. Putting her clippers away again, she dug into her other pocket, coming up with a small, shallow clay pot, closed with a wide cork. She crouched down and grabbed one hand, dabbing the ointment onto the wounds. Remus obligingly offered his other hand when she was done. 

“Why was this in your pocket?”

“It’s better to get the ointment on big jabs right away, and I’m doing lawn work.” she shrugged, and went back to her work. 

After a while, Rowan finished her discussion with the rosebushes, and headed back inside without saying anything. Shortly after that, a car drove up hidden by the bulk of the house. Another short while later, it drove away again. Rowan returned to her garden, hooking her apron over her head again.

“Bloody busy-body is what she is.” Rowan grumbled to herself. “No need to come by every time, her tea hasn’t changed in over a year, if I wanted everyone coming by and bothering me all the time I’d start up a tea room in town and read palms and cards. It’s what I get for being helpful and offering to do a unique blend.” 

“Can you tell the future?” Remus asked, popping up on the other side of the hedge wall of rose bushes, making Rowan yelp and clutch her rake. 

“Like the weather.” She retorted. “Which is to say, not really worth anything.” 

“You’re a useless kind of witch, aren’t you?” sniffed D.N. who had taken up a seat in an Adirondack style chair they had acquired somewhere, and everyone in the Baker family hated, which is why it wasn’t on the porch.

“Yeah, kind of.” she didn’t rise to the bait, and watched him stare at the woods. “You could go, you know.”

“What?”

“Nothing’s keeping you here if you wanted to leave.”

“Little tree-” Remus said, sounding hurt. 

“Not you, you’re welcome any time. And for that matter, if he wants to go for a bit and come back, that’s fine.”

“I can’t actually. I have to ‘stay here’ until further notice.” 

“Oh right. Fairy parole officer.” Rowan sighed. “Well you could probably get as far as the property line, or where our ‘official’ lot meets up with the woods.”

“It isn’t as if I’m desperate to wander in the woodlands, Witch, I just don’t want to be here. At all.”

“Boy, do I hear that.”  she sighed deeply, pausing to look into the woods herself. The small leaves were misting the tips of the trees with color, and there was a smell of wet and rot in the air. It looked like a storm was building in the west.  It would probably hit the before nightfall, gathering the dark in the clouds and making the night come that much faster in the growing spring day. Better to get her gardening done before it hit, so she’d only have to repair the damage it did, not do that and the maintenance. The plants were being especially springy this year, and she was tempted to put this down to Remus’s presence. 

D.N. continued to watch her, as though she was some sort of reality TV show, while Remus sprawled in the scrubby grass next to his chair. 

When the first cold wet gust hit, all three of them headed inside.

     The storm was really having fun, so they were in Rowan’s room instead of the loft. Remus liked to hang out with both of them, so Rowan coming to work on whatever she was doing -some sort of project involving embroidery floss at the moment- and sit with Remus while Remus would root through her work basket, or bring out a pouch and do something himself- embroidery, or sharpening knives, occasionally woodcarving. Sometimes he’d sit behind Rowan and brush or play with her hair, braiding it into elaborate arrangements that she’d have to ask for help to undo.

Sometimes Danger Noodle would use Remus as a cushion or a backrest as if he was staking his claim. That night however, he’d pulled the beat up floral armchair Rowan kept next to one of her windows to a different window (further away from the dancing limbs of the rowan tree) and settled down with a book.

Rowan noticed that he would raise his hand and rub the back of his neck occasionally as if it were hurting. She nudged Remus’s leg and inclined her head at D.N. He shrugged.

“Are you in pain somehow?” Rowan asked, startling him into dropping his book.

“Kindly mind your own business.” Danger Noodle sneered. 

“Are you cold?” Remus asked. “You do-” he rubbed the back of his neck “lots.” 

D.N. growled under his breath, picking the book up. 

“It isn’t important.” He told them. 

“But it is a thing.”

“You never used to.”

He sighed, explosively. “Are you two going to leave me alone about this?”

“Well now I’m curious.” Rowan admitted tipping her head with a smile on her face that reminded D.N. far too much of Remus’s mischievous expression. If it weren’t for her obvious humanity, he would think they were siblings. “If you’re cold, I could get you a blanket, is all.” 

“I’m not cold.” he rolled his eyes. “I’m a winter.”

She looked unimpressed. “So what’s with the lounging in sunbeams?” 

Danger Noodle sneered at her, scales glinting in the lamplight. 

“It's just a feeling.  It’s like a cold hand on the back of my neck, it’s not squeezing but it’s there.” D.N. spread his fingers over the back of his neck.  “Like something’s watching me, constantly.” 

“Huh.” Remus and Rowan said in unison, heads tipping to the side. Danger Noodle glared, there was no way they weren’t doing that on purpose. 

“Might be something?” Remus asked thoughtfully, looking at the corners of the room. 

“I’d want to keep an eye on him, if it were me.” Rowan admitted. 

D.N. sighed again, exasperated, then Remus perked up digging in one of the many pockets inside his vest.  After a search he came up with a bag, tied firmly shut with cord. He climbed off the bed and went to kneel next to the armchair instead. 

“I made this for you.” Remus opened the intricately tied knot, and from inside the bag, produced a scarf. It looked like heavy silk of some sort, dyed a beautiful saffron yellow, covered in single-thread embroidery. Vines twisted and twined along it, with a snake hidden among them.  D.N. stared at it for a long moment, then recoiled. 

“Are you out of your mind? Wait, never mind I retract the question.” 

“I made it for you a while ago but…” Remus admitted. “You wouldn’t have taken it.”

“I’m not taking it now.” He stood up, tossing the book on the chair. “What makes you think I would even want it?” 

“You’re not as strong now-” 

Danger Noodle hissed, flashing sharp teeth, pupils narrow. 

“-so I’m going to protect you until you’re stronger.” Remus finished as if  he hadn’t just been threatened. 

“I am still stronger than you.” the young fae said disdainfully, drawing himself up to his full, unimpressive height.

“Are you though?” Rowan asked, setting her project down and watching them. 

“I am certainly more powerful than you.” 

“Oh, that’s not even a question.” 

“So what this looks like is Remus is offering you his favor to wear, showing that you’re his...  I’m going to say ‘ward’, because you’re a kid.”

“I am not a kid!” D.N. retorted, stamping his foot like a child. 

“And therefore under his protection. Displaying a connection.” 

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah.” Remus agreed. 

“Which is why I’m not interested.” 

“I don’t have to give you an oath to give you my favor.” Remus pointed out, he just stared up at Danger Noodle entreatingly.  The room was silent except for the storm outside, and the faint sound of someone watching a movie elsewhere in the house. D.N. rubbed the back of his neck again, and Rowan shivered, like a gust of cold air had made it through the window. Her eyes shut and she saw dead branches against a milky sky. Blinking the vision away, she got to see D.N. throw his hands in the air. 

“Uugh enough with the eyes. Fine. I’ll take it, but it doesn’t mean anything.” He accepted the scarf and looped it around his neck, spreading the folds upward to the base of his hair. 

“It means you’re wearing something I made you.” Remus pointed out and rose up, gathering Danger Noodle into a hug, to which he submitted, to Rowan’s surprise. “Which makes me happy.” 

“Mmgnh. Fuck off.” D.N. mumbled, face pressed to Remus’s bicep. 

Rowan decided not to comment on how cute it was.