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star-girl69 · 10 months ago

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In A Good Way

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)

a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

In A Good Way - Faye Webster

warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.

You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.

She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.

“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.

“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”

You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.

Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.

You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.

“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”

You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”

Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.

“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.

“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.

“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Her eyes meet yours.

“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”

“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”

Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.

You smile.

You see her eyes soften.

She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.

Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.

On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.

You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.

You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.

Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.

“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”

“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.

“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”

“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”

“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Percy chuckles a bit.

“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.

“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.

“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.

“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”

“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well, sorta-”

“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”

Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.

“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”

“Maybe,” Luke concedes.

“Great. Where do we start?”

You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”

—-

You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.

You sit down next to her.

“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.

“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.

“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”

She hums.

“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”

She shoots you a bored look.

“Don’t say horrible things like that.”

You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”

“Oh, I know.”

—-

“What happened to you?”

You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”

You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.

“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”

You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.

“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.

“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.

“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”

She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.

“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”

“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”

“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.

—-

Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.

You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.

You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.

After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.

Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.

“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”

You know these rules by heart.

Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.

She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.

“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”

You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.

Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.

“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.

The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.

Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.

“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.

Capture the flag games are taken seriously.

She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.

“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.

“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.

She smiles, a full toothy grin.

“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”

Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.

You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.

“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”

She just smiles.

—-

One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.

The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.

“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.

“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.

Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.

“Hi, Luke,” you smile.

He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.

“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”

Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.

You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”

You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.

“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.

As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.

“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.

Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”

The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.

“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”

Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.

He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.

Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.

It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.

They grab the flag and run for the beach.

The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.

“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.

“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.

Matty helps you up.

“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”

“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”

Matty claps your shoulder.

“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”

And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…

“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.

—-

The scream scares you.

All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.

“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”

“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.

“Clar- wait, Y/N!”

But you’re already long gone.

—-

You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.

“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”

You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.

You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.

“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.

“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.

You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?

“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”

You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.

“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.

You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.

“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”

She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.

“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.

—-

You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.

She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.

She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.

You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”

She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.

“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.

You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.

“Oh, you can.”

“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.

“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”

She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.

“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”

You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”

She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.

“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.

You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.

“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”

“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”

Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.

She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.

“He broke it,” she whispers.

“Broke what?”

She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.

“He broke my spear.”

“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.

“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”

You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.

Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.

Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.

And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.

Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.

If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.

—-

Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.

She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.

When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.

It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.

“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”

“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.

“C’mon, baby, who?”

“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”

“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.

You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.

“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.

“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”

“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”

Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.

“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”

You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.

When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.

—-

clarisse, about to beat up percy

y/n: oh no no no no you don’t

clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍

—-

y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles

clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE

—-

y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke

—-

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #pjo x you

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thesiltverses · 4 months ago

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A very big thank you

I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:

Post-show life begins

For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.

I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.

I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)

Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.

I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline.

I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.

All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.

There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.

Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.

So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.

What’s coming next, in rough order

#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3:��We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try. This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.

Just one last word about endings

God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.

How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well? People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.

Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end.

And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*).

So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.

And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.

All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite.

For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.

But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.

For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.

So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.

Thank you so much again, and speak soon.

Jon

*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.

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tsukimefuku · 6 months ago

Text

the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery.

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him.

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long.

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage.

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it?

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago.

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling.

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip.

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary.

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself.

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days.

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.”

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity.

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic.

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you.

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt.

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t... We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else.

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips.

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?”

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves.

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering.

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline.

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed.

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it.

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again.

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you.

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him.

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him.

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out.

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it.

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so.

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face.

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.”

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

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anthurak · 1 year ago

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Something I’ve often found really compelling in Adventure Time is how The Grass Sword/Grass Demon/Fern found up becoming one of the most prominent and disturbing antagonists of the series pretty much by complete accident.

Like it’s easy to forget after Fern has become such a prominent character both in the show and fandom, but the ‘curse’ of the Grass Longsword started out and spent much of the show entirely benign. All it really did was cause the sword to stick to Finn. If anything, the sword/curse was quite beneficial to Finn, providing him with a prosthetic arm and activating on several instances to protect him. Really, the entire point of the original Blade of Grass episode was that the sword was actually pretty useful.

It was only AFTER stabbing and later merging with the Finn Sword to create Fern that the ‘curse’ started becoming actively malicious.

In hindsight, I think it’s pretty clear that while the Grass Spider/Octopus/Demon ‘curse’ entity within the Grass Sword may have been malicious, for the longest time it had no way of actually controlling or otherwise influencing Finn. The sword may have bonded to Finn’s body, but NOT to his mind, or more importantly his soul. This left Finn free to use the sword, and later even the grass-prosthetic freely without any danger or corruption from the curse.

But then Finn accidentally used it to stab the Finn Sword. As we see in Two Swords, this for the first time gave the Grass Demon/Curse direct access to a soul, the soul of the alternate Finn within the Finn Sword. A soul that it was able to corrupt and influence and ultimately merge with to create Fern.

This is one of those things that I think a lot of the fandom seems to miss: Fern isn’t some quirky doppelganger or a ‘brother’ to Finn. He is straight up a distorted, corrupted version OF Finn (the alternate iteration of him within the Finn Sword) manifested by the CURSE of the Grass Sword.

As in, basically EVERYTHING Fern does that deviates from the ‘norm’ that is Finn can be considered the work OF the curse. From more overt stuff like his tendency to ‘stab first, ask questions later’ or the times he ‘flips out’, to more subtle things like his brooding or just the fact that he has a noticeably different voice (the voice of the Grass Demon mind you), ALL of these are the product of the Curse.

And it’s this fact which makes Fern a truly tragic character. Because he was effectively doomed from the very start. Despite Fern’s attempts to do good and Finn’s and Jake’s attempts to accept him as his own person, Fern simply could not escape the curse’s influence. Because that curse was the very thing that created and maintained his physical body. It WAS his body. And this curse wanted nothing but to subvert, influence and ultimately CONTROL him for its own ends.

I think we can very easily assume that all of Fern’s failures, all his insecurities, everything that drove him to turning on Finn and trying to kill him and becoming the Green Knight in the final season, ALL of that was the result of the curse’s influence. Trying to whittle and break down Fern’s will so that it could mold him into whatever it wanted. And there was NOTHING Fern could do to stop this. Because the curse made itself a core part of what he was.

When Finn and Fern finally enter his mental world and destroy the Grass Demon in Come Along With Me, we see Fern as he truly is: simply another version of Finn who has been corrupted by the curse.

And with the Grass Demon dead, there is nothing to maintain Fern’s physical body, causing him to soon fade away. In order for this alternate Finn to be saved, he couldn’t exist as ‘Fern’.

Of course this also means that ‘Fern’ didn’t actually DIE at the end of the series. He simply reverted back to his true form: The Finn Sword.

And what I find so compelling and tragic about all this is that NONE of it had to actually happen. The Finn within the Finn Sword didn’t need to be put through all this suffering. Like it seems pretty clear that the Finn that become the Finn Sword was perfectly content being a sword. He didn’t need to be corrupted and spend the last two and half seasons being manipulated by a grass octopus demon.

Because when you think about it, ALL of this happened by accident. If Finn hadn’t lost the Finn Sword to Bandit Princess, or if he’d been able to simply avoid stabbing it with the Grass Sword during his fight with her, NONE of this would have happened. Finn would still have the Finn Sword and the Grass Sword would have likely remained benign and helpful to him. Heck, given how Finn seems to fully regain the use of the Grass Sword in his fight with Bandit Princess, he probably would have been able to duel-wield the Grass Sword and Finn Sword together.

This is really what I find to be the tragedy of Fern: That two of Finn’s greatest tools wound up becoming one of his most dangerous adversaries, and even worse that the Finn who became the Finn Sword was tortured and corrupted for no real reason, all essentially by accident.

#adventure time #adventure time analysis #finn mertens #finn the human #fern the human #the grass sword #the finn sword #now that i think about it calling him 'fern' almost feels insulting #like we insist on calling this finn a name that represents one of the worst times of his life #imagine the au where finn DOESN'T stab the finn sword?

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marvelwinchester67 · 9 months ago

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I’m gonna need 5-10 business days to recover from the Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale.

Hazbin Hotel episode 7 and 8 spoilers (because I’m going feral) and my thoughts/unhinged feelings about it because no one else can understand quite like tumblr can

Read at your own risk

What. The. Fuck. Guys.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!

IT WAS NIFFTY WHO KILLED ADAM?!

AND SIR PENTIOUS?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IM NOT OKAY BUT IM GLAD HE IS

Lucifer “now I’m gonna fuck you” Morningstar everyone (plz I love him so much)

So Carmilla knew who Vaggie really was and just, didn’t give a shit? Love her for that

I love Rosie. Her design, her personality, she’s amazing. She was so sweet to Charlie when she didn’t have to be and actually listened to her and encouraged her (points for the relationship advice)

So Alastor is on someone’s leash and he’s trying to wiggle his way out of it, the Vees are plotting (of course they are), and LUTE KNOWS LILITH?! THEY MADE SOME KIND OF DEAL?!

I’m so so curious about how Lute and Lilith know each other and why Lute would want her to deal with her daughter

But this implies that Adam had a previous deal with Lilith regarding something we don’t know yet, since Lute said she was in charge now that he was dead and that their deal pertained to her now

ALSO?! You’re telling me that’s what Adam looked like under his mask?! (I still loathe him but lowkey he was hot I’ll be honest right now)

Sir Pentious telling Cherri he loved her was so sweet

I soaked up every single scrap of Huskerdust I could within those last two episodes they own my soul and I’m so excited to see more of them in season 2

So it looks like Vox thinks Alastor is missing again which is why he’s plotting with the other Vees, but Alastor showed back up at the hotel during repairs so that might not last long

Alastor’s fight with Adam was so good holy shit omfg plz give me more of Alastor’s powers that shield was so cool and his verse in that final song gave me chills like, oh my god he was so mad and I’m here for it

And Lucifer showing up and telling Charlie she changed his heart and mind about the sinners? He is so precious plz protect this duck loving man at all costs

Charlie and Vaggie’s More Than Anything Reprise? Please I am sobbing they love each other so much it hurts

To top it all off- Alastor having beef with literally everyone will never not be funny. Fucking Susan? Are you kidding me. I was laughing so hard. Rosie seems like she deals with Susan a lot and Alastor calling her an Ornery Bitch was so fucking funny for no reason.

Everyone has beef with Susan now.

There is so much I have to say about this show and I could literally talk about it for years but for now I will be repeatedly listening to the soundtrack and impatiently waiting for season 2 because I no longer have the will to live after I sobbed on my bedroom floor over this show. VIVIENNE I AM IN YOUR WALLS-

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #Hazbin hotel spoilers #vivziepop #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #sir pentious #Cherri bomb #Cherri and sir pentious #husk x angel dust #charlie x vaggie #charlie morningstar

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thepunkmuppet · 1 year ago

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laszlo fucking lied.

remembering for a second that season 5 takes place straight after season 4, laszlo is clearly grieving baby colin and using guillermo as a distraction. it is NOT a coincidence that in this episode colin mentioned dreaming about his time as baby colin and just happened to make a joke about dads and sons (using buzzwords like “boy” and “act” as well).

I think not being able to fix guillermo and, to a lesser extent, (from his perspective) having to kill guillermo’s “babies” sent laszlo into a downward spiral and he was genuinely semi-catatonic. he’s said and shown that he struggles with emotional stuff many times, and actually feeling those emotions and thinking those thoughts and having to actually confront them would definitely do weird things to him.

another thing we know about laszlo is that he is a really good liar. when he snapped out of it, saying “THAT’S IT!” he 1000% made up the book thing on the fly. but it worked because he was genuinely happy again! his distraction is back in business!!

I think he either figured out why guillermo is the way he is, how to turn him fully into a vampire, or how to turn him human again. and the colin robinson thing will build over the next two episodes, with the two still avoiding each other until the finale is an emotional confrontation between laszlo and colin about their time together, and nandor and guillermo about… well, you know.

anyway yeah matt berry is a fucking good actor and I know this is a comedy but that was not “figuring out how to alphabetise my books” that was “grappling with raising and losing a son who now doesn’t remember me but I have to live with him every day and also the not-coping mechanism I’ve found to distract myself from my pain has stopped working and also I am a centuries old vampire who cannot deal with crushing human emotions”. or you know something like that

#laszlo cravensworth #colin robinson #guillermo de la cruz #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #wwdits season 5 #wwdits s5 #wwdits 5x08

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saints-who-never-existed · 1 month ago

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So we all know that Blanky is cool and badass as fuck. That goes without saying. There's a sense, right from the get-go really, that he pretty much always knows what to do in any given situation.

Blanky knows when humour will lift a mood, and when seriousness is required. He knows when to give grace and kindness, and when to dole out much-needed tough-love.

I think it always worth repeating, though, that none of that would be possible without an extremely high degree of empathy and emotional intelligence. To me, that's Blanky's real greatest strength. It's the root of what makes him so cool and badass as fuck so I want to ramble more about some examples of it.

In Episode Two, for instance, we have his nighttime conversation with Crozier where Blanky matches the captain's energy beat for beat.

He laughs with him first about the erstwhile reindeer and while he remains optimistic throughout the rest of the scene, he's also honest, both acknowledging Crozier's various fears and drilling down to the root of them immediately - "Aye. You trusted Ross and you trusted Parry."

When Crozier remarks on his perceptiveness, Blanky's incredibly tactful and kind too - a casual "No, it's just that I know you." when in reality Crozier's been doing a horseshit job of concealing his thoughts and they're visible from fuckin' space.

In the following episode, I think the response Blanky gives to Little's fearful teatime diatribe is great.

In contrast to Crozier's vague and even condescending reply which only seems to rile him up further, Blanky shuts Little down clearly and firmly but without being unkind. I think a simple, factual response was the right tactic for the lawful-good sort of guy Little is.

I think his accurate judgement of Little's character is further confirmed later in the episode vis a vis the clandestine rescue party. He's right when he says "Lieutenant Little will never agree to it."

Another example that's very special to me personally is in Episode Five and it's not Blanky delivering his warning after Crozier punches Fitzjames, or even when he lightens the mood with jokes and toasts before having his own fuckin' leg sawn off (although I could talk about those forever).

It's actually a wee almost throwaway line Blanky utters to McDonald right before he heads up on deck:

"He's ill with it now..."

Crozier's behaved abhorrently to everyone around him up until that point. He's been vicious and manipulative, cruel and thoughtless. Threatening to throw Silna out into the elements and actually following through with Blanky, ordering him out into weather he knows full well is so cold that it literally just killed a man.

It would be so easy for Blanky to decide that that was final straw, that he was done with Crozier's bullshit. But no! Even then, even then, Blanky seems to be able to take a step back to some degree. To recognise Crozier's alcoholism for what it is - a debilitating illness and not some great moral failing.

It used to confuse me to some degree why Blanky would greet Crozier so warmly at Carnivale (other than the fact that the absolute mad-lad is drunk off his ass). Like, that's the man who made the decision that lead to you nearly dying and losing a limb - how can you just hug him as if none of that happened? But the more I thought about that earlier line, the more clearly it spoke of the incredible depth of understanding and feeling Blanky has for Crozier and the more beautiful that relationship became. He can forgive him so quickly because he can see so clearly the true person under the difficult surface.

We talk so much about Blanky remaining outside of the horror story the rest of the characters come to inhabit, refusing to dignify it with his presence. And, again, I just think an important part of the reason he's able to do so is that he sees the world around him and the people within in it for exactly what it is and for exactly who they are. It's just a lot harder to jump-scare a man who sees the mask you're wearing from a mile away, and understands precisely why you've donned it.

#I have SO MANY more thoughts about this but the post was long enough already #I'm going to think more about it and chime in further later #Like I want to talk again about Blanky's relationship with and mentorship of wee Tom Hartnell for one thing #Another moment I love that needs more scrutiny is his admonishment of Little in E08 too #It's another instance of him being tough and firm with the man without being unkind #And I love that Blanky even follows it up with physical reassurance - a language we know Little understands and responds to #Anyway #Further coherence impending!#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Thomas Blanky #Francis Crozier #Observations #Meta #Long Post

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oatmealdoodles · 8 days ago

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My messy thoughts on the new episode

(spoilers for Ghostf**kers)

tldr I LOVED this one the animation saw POPING OFF the writing was great, it was well paced, everything. I just wanted to ramble so here i am talking to no one:

Ok right off the bat i had to pause this like 7 times in the first five minutes because the beginning of this is just packed with insane jokes, glass to see they havent forgotten about being a comedy show

It’s so sad to see Blitzo in this state, especially that it’s been over a month. Like look at this guy he is GOING THROUGH IT.

also this was uncalled for how can you do me like this?

ok like my one problem i don’t like this little Scooby-doo reference with old people. I just skipped it and lost nothing, i don’t know why this is here.

the fight between Blitzo and Millie in the vents was also really well done im so glad Millie is putting up boundaries on dealing with everybody elses Bullshit.

I also don’t hear anyone talking about this but Vivinie Williams (Millie’s VA) did so well in this. Like all the voice acting in this show is peak but I’ve only really heard praise for Brendon and Bryce. Their argument here specifically, the fury in her voice was so well done, bravo.

JESUS CHRIST THEY DID NOT NEED TO GO THIS HARD this scene has been stuck in my head for the past two days, Brandon killed it in he recording booth, the animation is also just so VICERAL. Also the way the fire starts from his hands because he blames himself for it, like Viv went too far with this one. That was not ok.

Bitzo’s panic attack was also done so well. Little detail but i love that when Blitzo screams “Don’t touch me!”, Millie respects this and doesnt, instead comforting him with words. They only touch when he’s calm and ready. Love that.

Bro i was NOT expecting a flashback on how Millie met Blitz, also Millies design slays so hard

the way I gasped.

I also didn’t realize how much I needed an episode focusing on these twos friendship until now. Like FINALLY a Millie episode that doesn’t suck!

Little thing i realized but notice how Blitzo doesn’t make a sex joke at this. Blitzo. Not making a provocative joke. Really just goes to show how UNCOMFORTABLE and SCARED he is. I physically recoil every time I see this it’s gross

Those flashback scenes were also just so brutal. Like chaining his horns so he’s FORCED to watch is so psychotic I can’t.

its kinda sad that Blitzo’s whole motivation for doing this is to distract himself from his feelings, when that’s what he’s literally forced to confront by Ronaldo.

Love a possession story. I can really appreciate how Millie does not believe Ronaldo for a second, she knows that Blitzo would never think that of her and she trusts him enough to be confident in it. Nice subversion, you go girl.

This was so needlessly brutal and funny, they really went all out with this one

Yeah I think that’s all I wanted to day, just again i loved this one and it was definantly worth the multiple-month wait. Though my Hyperfixation has mostly died im hopeful that it will resurrect soon. We’ll have to wait and see.

#helluva boss blitz #helluva boss millie #ghostf**kers #helluva boss ghostfuckers #helluva boss #show analysis #hyperfixation #helluva boss ronaldo #ranting into the void

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doctorbitchcrxft · 4 months ago

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Tall Tales | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: mentions of smut, canon gore, canon violence

Word Count: 3986

A/N: This episode was a challenge to write, but so much effing fun. I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!

(he's so sexy in this gif i'm nutting goodbye goodnight i'm gone)

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Dean refused to let you hunt for the next two weeks following your concussion. You were pissed off, but you knew it was for the best. When the brothers settled on a case, they stuck you in a motel room and would occasionally come check on you between hunting. They found something at a college in Tennessee, and that was about all they told you before putting you to bed for the next week.

When Sam would come check on you early on, it was to make sure you had enough water or food in your mini fridge. He’d always bring a book with him to sit with you while you rested. When you could finally tolerate the sound of other people’s voices again without going cross-eyed, you got him to read it to you.

He snorted. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?”

You deadpanned at him. “Yes, asshole. Please?”

“Okay,” he laughed. The book was called The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt, and you were completely fascinated. Sam’s voice would often soothe you to sleep as he recounted bits of Egypt’s history to you.

Between Sam’s visits and hours spent staring at the ceiling or pacing, Dean would visit. Most often, he’d come to your room at night. Not for any sexual purposes; in fact, when you suggested you have sex, he was fervently against it.

“Why?” you’d asked.

“ ‘Cause you’re still hurt,” he replied simply, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. “And…”

“And?” you prompted, tilting your head up at him.

“I just wanna be with you right now,” he admitted quietly.

You smiled against Dean’s neck, nuzzling into him.

***

Sam was clearly pissed off with Dean the next time he came to visit you.

“What’s goin’ on?” you’d asked.

He sighed, “Just Dean being… Dean. “ He sat at the foot of your bed as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. “How’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet,” you smirked.

Sam made a bitch face at you. “Really? Elvira?”

“Of course. I love her,” you giggled.

“Seriously. How is it?”

You shrugged. “Same ol’ same ol’. I’ll live. How’s your, uh, mental state?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that.” Sam shook his head.

“C’mon, you can tell me anything. What’s goin’ on?” you questioned, scooching closer to him.

The brunet seemed thoughtful for a minute. “I, uh, don’t really know.” He chuckled awkwardly. “I’m really gettin’ worried, (Y/N). After Wandall and what I did to Jo—”

You cut him off. “Sam, that wasn’t you. We’ve been over this—”

“Yeah, but still. It’s been really bothering me.” You replied, “Well, yeah, that’s to be expected. Meg took you for a hell of a ride.” You thought for a second about your words. “Gross.”

Sam laughed before becoming serious again. He seemed to be thinking deeply about how to talk to you. “I’m really worried about what’s happening to me. Especially since…”

“Since what?” you prompted.

“Since you wouldn’t shoot.” You dropped your head back, sighing. “Sam, we’ve been over this. If you really go dark side, I’ll do it. But it seemed like your conscious mind wasn’t doing those things. It seemed like psychosis, almost. I’m not gonna kill you over that.”

“Well, then, when does it end?” he argued. “Conscious or not, I killed someone. And you saw it happen. And you still wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, because I care about you, Sam. You’re my best friend. It’s gonna take a lot for me to gank you,” you scoffed.

He softened a bit and sighed. “I get it,” the brunet muttered. “I just… I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to it every day. And I don’t know how to stop it. And Dean’s freaked, but he won’t talk to me about it. I’m sick of him pretending that everything’s fine.”

“Well, you know how he is,” you reminded him.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Still.”

“I hate to tell you this,” you began, fiddling with the hem of the quilt on your lap, “but the more freaked out you are, the more susceptible you are to—” “To demonic possession,” he finished. “Yeah, I know.” “And if that’s what this ‘dark side’ thing is supposed to be, we gotta get you back under control,” you continued.

Sam nodded pensively. A mischievous look crossed his face suddenly. “So, uh, how’s things with you and—?”

“Oh, god,” you groaned, flopping back on your head. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve seen the two of you. I’m not completely blind,” he chortled. “So, talk.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t— I just— with everything going on, I don’t wanna… go there, y’know?”

He made a face at you.

You chucked a pillow at him. “I’m not talking about our sex life, dipshit. I don’t wanna make him commit to me with everything happening. But, then again, we’re hunters. We’re never not gonna have tons of shit goin’ on.”

“I mean, do you want a relationship with him?” Sam asked.

“Eh, I don’t know,” you shrugged unconvincingly.

“Don’t lie.”

“Fine, I do.” Sam laughed.

“But I don’t want to want that, y’know?” You cringed at yourself. “God, I sound like a sixth grader with a crush.”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam snorted. “But I’m happy for you guys. I want you guys to be happy.”

***

The next time Dean came to visit, he was carrying a case of beer.

“Aren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you asked, throwing your journal aside.

“Alright, fine, I’ll leave,” he smirked, turning back to the door.

“No, no!” you said, bounding over to him. You spun him around and kissed him gently. “Stay.”

“Always,” he said against your lips.

***

Something you were beginning to learn about Dean was his love languages. You were big on psychology. Though you knew he wasn’t and would never let you pick his brain aloud, it was fun to do in your head. Given the way he redressed your head wound in the earlier days of your admittedly severe concussion, made you dinner, and did your laundry, you deduced he liked to give love through acts of service.

However, he seemed to be hellbent on not receiving it in that way. He refused to let you redress the wound on his shoulder until the dressings Jo put on it were saturated in seeping fluid.

“Dean, you’re gonna start growing a science experiment in there. Let me help you,” you’d said, more stating it than begging.

“I’m fine, (Y/N). Seriously.”

You got your first aid box out of your duffel and threw over your shoulder, “This is not up for debate. Come here.”

With a reluctant sigh, he did eventually listen to you. Given the beers he brought you, the crappy movies, the card games, and hours spent just in each other’s company, you figured his receiving love language was quality time. And you were more than happy to give that to him.

***

On day twelve, you were insistent you could spar with Dean again. He was insistent, however, that he wouldn't do it.

"Dean! C'mon, man! It doesn't even hurt anymore," you protested, putting your hair up in a ponytail.

"(Y/N), I'm not gonna risk hurting you—"

"Dean!" you warned. "I'm rusty. If I'm gonna help you guys with this hunt in two days, please, dude, I'm begging you."

"Fine," he grumbled. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

You smirked, preparing your fighting stance. He eyed you challengingly, his smirk encouraging you to rush him. You did so, and he easily dodged you. However, you had prepared for that scenario, and whipped your back leg around to hit him in the stomach while he dodged you.

Dean grunted, and you jumped back from him. You aimed a punch toward his jaw, which he blocked easily. Several more punches were thrown between the two of you before you got fed up.

"Stop holding back!" you pushed.

"I"m not," he argued unconvincingly, throwing a sloppy left hook at you.

"Your form is shit, you're barely out of breath, and you're mostly on the defensive," you replied. "Stop holding back. You won't break me."

"(Y/N)—"

"Dean," you cut him off. "Vamps aren't gonna hold back. Whatever we're dealing with isn't gonna hold back. I'm healed enough. Quit it."

He finally did listen, making you incredibly happy. Beating Dean Winchester in hand-to-hand combat was nearly impossible given the size and muscular advantage he had against you. However, your father had trained you well on how to use speed and endurance to your advantage.

You fought with Dean for quite a few rounds before he knocked you back into the dresser in your motel room, and you hit the back of your head on the corner.

"See? I told you that was gonna happen," he said angrily. Although, you knew he was more angry with himself than he was with you.

"I'm fine," you replied, standing and rubbing the back of your head. "Again."

"No," Dean asserted, turning away from you. He shrugged his jacket back on.

"Wha— Where are you going?" you questioned, becoming aggravated with his stubbornness. "I said I'm fine, Dean. Again."

"We're done for today, (Y/N)," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

You scoffed. "I hate it when you do this."

"Yeah, well," Dean said gruffly, "I hate it when you act like a stubborn brat. Why is it so wrong that I don't wanna hurt you?"

"Because I'm asking you to!" you argued. "Hurt me! Don't fucking go easy on me! I already gave you my reasons why you shouldn't! I'd rather you hurt me than whatever we're up against!"

"I get that, (Y/N), but you can't ask me to fucking do that," he responded, turning to face you. "I won't hurt you."

You sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Yeah. See you," he grumbled. Then, you heard the door slam shut behind him.

***

You knew your fight had been stupid. You sat by the door all day, anxiously awaiting Dean's return. Just when you were beginning to lose hope that he'd show, you heard a knock on the door.

"Hey," you said awkwardly, opening the door for him to come in.

"Hey," he replied.

"I'm sorry. I was being stupid. I wouldn't do that to you if you asked me," you told him, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'm sorry, too. I didn't wanna shut you out," he said, unable to meet your eyes.

You grabbed his hand, making him look up at you. "Hey, you know the only reason I asked you to do that was because I trust you so much, right?"

Dean nodded. "How's your head? I didn't hurt ya too bad, did I?"

You shook your head. "Can't even feel it," you smiled.

***

By day fourteen of concussion recovery, you were clawing at the walls; ready to hunt again. You strolled back into their room at nine in the morning that day to get a run-down of the case so you could get back to your job.

“Thank god you're here,” Dean exhaled, getting off the bed he was lounging on when you walked in.

You snorted. “What, two weeks without me and you can’t function?”

Dean scoffed. “No.” He paused. “Well, kinda.”

“What’s been happening? And… why couldn’t you tell me anything about the case before this moment?” you asked.

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d believe us,” Sam told you.

You sat in the chair across from him, crossing your arms. “Why not?”

“It's just, we've never seen anything like it—”

“Not even close,” Dean chimed in.

“Oh-kay, well, why don’t you start from the beginning?” You leaned back in your chair and crossed your slender legs, knowing this was going to be a long conversation.

Sam huffed, gearing up for his story. “So, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So we pretexted as reporters from the local paper—”

“Pretexted?” you cut Sam off. “Okay, professor.”

He made a bitchface at you. “Would ya let me talk?”

“Fine, fine. Keep going.”

“I found these two kids at a bar who had the professor for Ethics and Morality. Both of ‘em said there was nothing about this guy that would’ve suggested he’d jump— I mean, wife, kids, tenured— everything. And the girl— her name was Jen— said she didn’t think it was suicide,” Sam explained. “Apparently, there’s this urban legend from about thirty years ago about a girl having an affair with a professor. He broke it off, and she jumped out the window of room 669. Anybody who sees her dies.” Sam shot a look at Dean. “Dean was supposed to be talkin’ to other locals, figuring out if the urban legend was even real, but, he, uh, got distracted.”

You straightened in your seat, shooting a look at Dean. “Distracted how?”

“He was too busy slamming purple nurples to even string together a coherent sentence,” Sam scoffed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was not!” Dean protested.

“What, so you never drank a purple nurple?”

“Yeah, maybe that, but I wasn’t wasted,” the older brother argued. “I just took a few shots with this classy chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories.”

You quirked a brow at Dean, jealousy beginning to burn in your chest.

“She was, uh, more interested in me than talking about ghost stories, but I cut her loose before the poor girl embarrassed herself,” Dean said.

“Ah, what a saint,” you cooed sarcastically.

Dean shot you a look. “And then Sam came over like, ‘Dean! What do you think you’re doing?’ He thought I was chattin’ her up instead of focusing on the case. Which, I wasn’t— thank you, Sam— everything was just blah, blah, blah, lecture, lecture, lecture,” Dean continued.

“Right! And that's how it really happened,” Sam scoffed.

Dean shrugged.

“Sam, did he make out with the chick or not?” you questioned.

Sam seemed taken aback. “Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? But no, he didn’t.”

The tension in your body released.

“And I don’t sound like that, Dean!” Sam turned back to his brother.

“That's what you sound like to me,” the older brother shrugged.

You flicked your gaze between the two of them. “What’s going on with you guys?”

“Nothing. No— it's nothing,” Sam sighed.

“No, come on. You're bickering like an old married couple,” you snickered.

Dean got up and moved over to the kitchenette behind you. “No, see, married couples can get divorced. Me and him, we're like, uh, Siamese twins.”

“It’s conjoined twins!” Sam immediately corrected him.

“See what I mean?” Dean kept his gaze on you and gestured to his brother.

“Look, it—” the brunet sighed again, “—we've just been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it.”

You nodded.

“So, anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime,” Sam continued. “We went and talked to the janitor, pretexting as electricians. He said he’d been workin’ there for six years, let us into the professors’ office, and told us he was the one who found the guy. He said the professor brought somebody up with him, and that was the thing to distract Dean from the nuts he was stuffing his face with.”

“Come on! I ate one, maybe two!” Dean protested.

“Just let me tell it, okay?” Sam shot back. “Anyway, janitor says the cops never found the girl the professor was with, and he didn’t even see her leave the room. But apparently, the professor brought girls up a lot. Maybe you missed that, Dean, since you were too busy snacking to focus on anything else.”

Dean glared at his brother.

“And get this?” Sam told you. “There is no room 669. And the professor’s office was clean of EMF. Next, we thought we should probably check the history of the building. Of course, I couldn’t do that, because my computer was frozen on bustyasianbeauties.com.” The younger brother spoke pointedly at Dean, who seemed dumbfounded, honestly.

“Dude, I told you, I wasn’t on your laptop,” Dean grunted.

“Well, did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal chick?” you asked.

“No. History's clean,” Sam replied.

“Then it's not a haunting,” you stated.

“Maybe not. Tell you the truth, we're not really sure,” Dean replied.

“What do you mean, you're not sure?”

Sam spoke up again. “Well… it’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” You asked, feeling like you were pulling teeth.

“This next part, we, uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it's pretty fucking weird. Even for us,” Dean chuckled in disbelief. “Apparently, this guy got beamed up on his walk home. Right outside of Crawford Hall.”

“ ‘Beamed up’?” you questioned. “Like… Star Trek? Aliens?!”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

“Aliens,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah.”

“Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people,” you said.

“Hey, believe me. We know,” the older brother replied.

“I’ve been hunting my whole life and never found any evidence of real alien abduction,” you shook your head. “It’s all bullshit.”

“Yeah, that's what we thought. But… we figured we'd at least talk to the guy,” Sam said.

Dean picked up the story then. “Found the guy drinkin’ himself into oblivion. He thought we wouldn’t believe him. Honestly, I still don’t know if I do.”

Sam cut his older brother off. “He said he blacked out, and when he woke up, he was, um—”

“He got probed,” Dean chuckled. “Some alien made him their bitch. And apparently, they did it a lot.”

Sam snickered. “He said… He said they made him slow dance, too. I mean, what the hell?”

You scoffed. “You guys are exaggerating again, right?”

“No, not at all,” Sam responded.

“Then this kid’s just nuts,” you stated.

“We're not so sure,” Dean argued. “There was a— a scorch mark in the ground outside Crawford Hall. Perfect circle.”

“Had to have been made by some kinda jet engine,” Sam cut in. “There’s nothing else it could’ve been. Given the timing alone, I figured, there’s gotta be some kind of connection.”

“I still wasn’t completely convinced,” Dean added. “I mean, between the angry spirit and sexed-up ET? What the hell. But what could we do? So we just kept on digging. We talked to this guy in probe-guy’s frat. Sammy did his whole 'I’m here for you, you brave little soldier’ speech, gave the guy a hug— the whole thing made me nauseous—”

“I never said that!” Sam argued.

“You're always saying pansy stuff like that,” Dean rebutted. “Would you let me talk?”

Sam quieted down, still upset.

“Anyway, the guy tells us that probe-guy was a huge dick. Apparently, he was going probe-level-stuff to his pledges this semester. And that was the one connection I could make out— both the victims are dicks. Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed. And that was when Sam started flippin’ out about his laptop— which I didn’t touch, by the way!— and started insulting my food—”

“It's not food anymore, Dean!” Sam cut in. “It's Darwinism.”

“I like it!” Dean scoffed.

Sam kept going. “All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff!”

“And then he threatened my car, (Y/N),” Dean said. You knew he was serious, but his dramatics drew a laugh from you.

“Did you take his computer?” you questioned.

“Serves him right, but, no,” Dean replied.

Sam glared at Dean. “Well, I didn't lose it. 'Cause I don't lose things.”

“Oh, that's right, yeah, 'cause he's Mr. Perfect.”

You talked over them. “Okay, okay. Why don't you just tell me what happened next?”

Dean huffed. “There was one more victim.”

“Right. Now, we- we didn't see this one ourselves, either,” Sam began hesitantly. “We kind of put it together from the evidence. But this guy— He was, uh, he was a research scientist. Animal testing.”

“Yeah, you know, a dick,” Dean added. “Which fits the pattern. Cops didn't release the cause of death 'cause they had no clue what the cause was.”

“So, we checked it ourselves,” Sam chimed in.

“Yeah,” the older Winchester confirmed. “I’m tellin’ you, (Y/N), those remains were gnarly. Looked like somethin’ was chompin’ on him. Again, happened right outside Crawford Hall. Then, Sam found a belly scale. From an alligator.”

“Classic urban legend,” Sam broke in. “A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels.”

“This can’t get any weirder,” you shook your head.

“Then we tried callin’ Bobby—” Sam said, “since you were still down for the count. He was caught up in another case, though. So, we decided to search the sewer. We split up, each taking one end of campus.”

“Did you find anything?” you asked.

“Yeah, I found something, just not in the sewer,” Dean began, getting frustrated. “Sam fucked up my car. He let all the air out my tires. He’s gonna bend the rims!”

“Why would he do that?” you questioned.

“I don’t know! ‘Cause he thinks I screwed with his computer or something!” Dean responded angrily.

“I told you, Dean, I didn’t go near your car,” Sam said.

“And how do you even know it was him?” you asked.

“ ‘Cause I found his money clip by my car. I’m keepin’ it for reparations. For, uh, emotional trauma,” Dean snarked. “Then, he full-on tackles me trying to get it back.”

“Oh, come on, I did not tackle you—”

Dean cut Sam off. “Oh yeah? Then how’d we end up on the floor?”

“ ‘Cause you’re an idiot, that’s why!”

“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough,” you broke in.

The two boys stared at you.

“You showed up about an hour after that,” Dean finished.

“I'm surprised at you two. I really am,” you sighed. “Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer.”

“But I—” Sam argued.

“Shh! Shh,” you scolded. “And, Dean, Sam did not touch your car.”

“Yeah!” the younger brother petulantly cried, staring at Dean.

“Sam,” you warned. “And if you two would’ve pulled your heads out of your asses for a second, you probably would’ve figured out what we’re dealin’ with.”

Sam looked confused and looked over at Dean.

The older Winchester shrugged. “I got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” Sam looked back at you.

“A trickster,” you announced.

Dean snapped his fingers triumphantly. “That's what I thought.”

“What?! No, you didn't,” Sam argued.

You snickered. “You guys were the biggest clue.”

“What do you mean?” The brunet quirked his head at you.

“These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing, and it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight,” you explained.

“The laptop,” Sam realized.

“The tires,” Dean immediately added.

“It knows you're onto him, and it's been playing you as a result,” you nodded.

“So, what is it, what- what, spirit, demon, what?” Dean asked.

“Well, more like demigods, really. There's Loki in Scandinavia, Anansi in West Africa; dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Make ‘em vanish just as quick,” you continued. “The victims fit the M.O., too. Tricksters target pricks, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor— deadly pranks, things like that.”

“(Y/N), what do these things look like?” Dean said, and you could tell he was realizing something.

“Lots of things, but human, mostly,” you shrugged.

Dean looked over at Sam. “And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?”

It took Sam a moment, and he frowned, but finally caught on. “The janitor.”

***

Sam and Dean decided they would stage a huge fight right where the trickster could see them discussing whether or not the janitor was your guy or not. As night began to fall, you were supposed to meet Sam outside Crawford Hall to help Dean confront the trickster because you knew he’d be looking for Dean after the two brothers separated.

You and Sam followed the slow, sexy eighties music down the hall to the auditorium, and you flanked both doors leading down into it. You stood at the top of the stairs, waiting to catch the trickster off-guard. You clutched your stake tightly as you took in the two women on a bed on the stage dressed in lingerie, looking at Dean like they were going to eat him alive. Anger bubbled in your chest at the thought.

“Look, man, I— I got to tell you, I dig your style, alright?” Dean told the trickster, who was seated in the audience with his back to you. Dean chuckled. “I do. I mean, the slow-dancing alien—”

“One of my personal favorites. Yeah,” the trickster said. You could hear the grin in his voice.

“But, uh, I can't let you go,” Dean told him.

“Too bad. Like I said, I like you. Sam was right. You shouldn't've come alone,” the trickster replied.

“Well, I'll agree with you there,” Dean said darkly.

You slammed the door shut behind you, as did Sam.

“That fight you guys had outside— that was a trick?” the trickster asked.

Dean grinned.

The trickster hummed. “Hm. Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?”

A masked man with a chainsaw suddenly appeared near Sam and attacked him. You immediately ran to his aid, jumping on the back of the man and grabbing his arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Sam asked you over the roaring of the chainsaw.

“Probably, yeah!” you yelled. You wrapped your arms around the masked man’s neck, trying to close his airway. “Does this thing even have a windpipe? Can it even suffocate?”

Suddenly, you were flying down the steps of the auditorium.

“Ooh, that’s gotta hurt,” the janitor commented, chewing on a sandwich he was suddenly holding.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, getting up to charge him.

One of the girls from the stage appeared before you suddenly, throwing you back down to the floor.

“Nice toss, gorgeous!” you heard the trickster cheer.

You reared back and kicked the woman squarely in the stomach, sending her stumbling back. You wrestled with her continuously, until suddenly, she disappeared from underneath you. You looked up to see Dean stabbing the trickster through the chest.

“That’s my boy,” you smiled under your breath.

The trickster fell back into the seat behind him, dead.

Sam approached you and helped you off the ground. “You didn’t hit your head again, did you?”

“No, no,” you laughed. “I think I’m okay.”

Dean walked over to you and Sam. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam nodded.

“Well, I gotta say... he had style,” the older brother chuckled. You helped Dean up the steps, bearing the brunt of his weight given the many injuries he sustained.

“Alright, let's just get the hell out of dodge before somebody finds that body,” you said, putting Dean in the backseat of the car.

Sam ducked down into the front seat beside you, and you started the Impala.

“Look, Dean, um... I just want to say that I'm, uh— Um…” Sam couldn’t seem to muster an “I’m sorry.”

“Hey. Me too,” Dean nodded.

You snickered. “You guys are breaking my heart.”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” the boys groaned in unison.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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remember-the-fanfics · 9 months ago

Note

Hai, so um I really like the Gen-Z overlord Reader, bc well they are basically me, if you are able/want to can you make some possible angst headcanons? Like how they miss home or their friends

Just Before the pilot episode

I'm trying so hard to have a timeline, everything is connected! I just have it in no order.

This is shorter than usual.

• You would have so many things to be sad about

• Like how you could never live your life before you died

• Missing all your friends because they'll (hopefully) get to grow old

• Your family grieving over your life being taken to soon.

• Older sibling never got to see you truly become an adult without your parents

• Younger sibling missing you, who just got them in a way where they could annoy you but you would still protect them afterwards.

• Parents/Guardian losing their child way to soon.

• You usually avoid those thoughts, having to do be someone strong daily for the people you protect.

• You already had time to mourn the future you never got and everyone you miss when you weren't an Overlord.

• So pushing your grief all the way down inside to never see the light of day.

"Haha, nope."

• Until you seeing or smell something like home and it hits you, hard.

• Then you're back being a child, who just wants their parents to comfort them from a nightmare.

• You're with Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Charlie. Doing an exercise that Charlie ropped you into.

• When something of the moment of true trust reminds you of home.

• The last place it was completely given so freely.

• Angel Dust nugges you saying it was your turn again.

• Before realizing you had tears that started stream down your face.

• He tried to cheer you up with a joke

"Didn't think the exercise was that bad."

• Didn't work for the most part.

• You were laughing, while crying. Creepied him out and got the others attention.

• You just wanted to go home, back to the people you care about.

• But you could never go back, you were dead.

• Why does it feel so unfair that you died before you actually got to live.

• Getting up while everyone was asking you if you were alright

"Ha ha, no."

• Heading to your room because you didn't want to drag everyone else's mood down with you.

• Only to be stop by Angel Dust, who knows how you feel about missing your family but not understanding that your grief about missing your life.

"I didn't get to live my life, Angel! I died less than two months after I turned 18, I still lived with my parents! My family and friends had to bury me, I have to wait while everyone I know get to live."

• Angel Dust did not know you were that young.

• This is the first time most of them saw you be more than just chaotic.

• Heading to your room to be alone finally

• After you got your emotions back inside because you are still needed by many people.

• Avoided Charlie for awhile because she wanted you to talk about your feelings

• Then Vaggie when Charlie got sad about it.

• You stayed away from the hotel for a week, wanting stayat your territory for the extermination any way.

• Texts Charlie and Vaggie, that you would be back afterwards.

• Charlie texting you about an interview she has the day after.

• Vaggie texts you to stay safe until then.

• Missing your family from life and realizing that you made your own type of family-friendship in hell.

• Not having time to process it when you see an explosion from a far and you know who would be there and rushing there to make sure they'll be okay.

And that leads you into the whole being there when Carmilla killed an exorcist.

#hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin vaggie #genz reader #not that angsty but i tried

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 7 months ago

Text

Strawberries and Cream

I will be so real I made this title up while watching strawberry shortcake *Hyena laughing gif*

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x reader

Word count: 4.6k YEAH THATS RIGHT I ACTUALLY CHECKED THIS TIME

🔪remember to reblog🔪

Notes: You know the strawberry shortcake from the early 2000s? That’s MY GIRL. P.s I’m in the middle of writing this rn 1:47am 4/19/24 and imma be so real this fic is full on Christopher erasure I’m SORRY

Episode 1: First Appearances

Eddie had never been a “bumbling idiot” when it came to women, or okay at least he hadn’t been in a long time.

“Hi there! Can you help me?”

And there goes that record.

It’s like you walked in on a cloud of sugared lavender and cotton candy and strawberries and anything else sweet he could think of. He whirled around, nearly knocking into you

“Oh shit- god no shit- no I shouldn’t say shit-“ He grabs your arms to steady you, and it’s like he’s holding an angel. You’re… soft? Yeah soft is the word he’s looking for. He’s taking way too long to talk like a normal person and he knows it. But god if that short pink dress isn’t doing things to him….

“What um- What can I help you with?” Eddie leans against the fire truck, crossing his arms over his chest, coming back down to earth. What a smooth recovery.

“Well- I’m looking for Evan Buckley. He goes by Buck?” She looks up at him, her hands clasped behind her back sweetly.

Oh.

Oh, she wanted Buck.

Eddie deflates just the tiniest bit, okay a lot but he can’t let her know that “Oh yeah sure, I think he’s upstairs, come on”

He leads the way, his hand flowing over the cool railing, trying to ground himself a little. Was it wrong he was hoping Buck fumbled this one? He wanted his best friend to find happiness- to know what that felt like…but like he could just wish that a teeny bit right?

“Hey, Buck? Someone’s here to see you” He says as he stands at the top of the stairs. You pop out from behind him, throwing your hands in the air.

“Surprise!!!” You yell, doing a little spin

“It’s me!!!”

Buck's mouth drops wide open, his fork falling from his hand as he gets up from the table so excitedly he knocks his chair back.

“Y/N?!? What are you doing here?!” He runs over, picking you up and spinning you around, you squeal, holding onto him tightly.

“Buck!! Put me down!! You’re gonna drop me!” You’re laughing, your head tilted back as he squeezes you to his chest

“Not, I’m never putting you down again” He buries his face in your neck, hugging you as tight as he can before he sets you on the floor. He holds your arms, shaking you like a ragdoll.

“It’s been years Y/N, does Maddie know you’re here???”

You push away from him a bit, steadying yourself and putting your hand on your forehead.

“Can you rein it in for like five seconds” you giggle, looking up at him “I thought it was finally time to come see you! And no Maddie doesn’t know I’m here yet, I wanted to surprise you two!

“Well, do you have a place to stay? Because you’re staying with me you can have the bed I’ll take the couch! We can have Maddie over too! Oh god I’m so glad-“

Bobby finally clears his throat, looking up from the salad in front of him.

“Uh…Buck? You wanna maybe introduce your friend before you kill her with whiplash”

“Or from crushing her sternum,” Hen says, pouring a cup of coffee

“Oh shit, yeah! This is Y/N, my cousin!” He puts his hands on her shoulders pridefully, pushing her towards them.

Eddie perks up at that, turning around and leaning against the counter… cousin? He stirs his coffee slowly

Bobby gets up and shakes her hand, patting her on the shoulder

“It’s nice to meet you! Family of Bucks is a member of ours. Welcome to the 118”

They fawn over her, really that’s the only word Eddie can come up with. Chim compliments her “adorable” dress, Hen tells her she’s working those shoes, showing off that black girl magic. She’s a bit overwhelmed by the attention, giggling through her nerves as she talks to them. A wide smile on her face.

Buck takes her hand eventually, yanking her over to Eddie

“This is my best friend,” He says proudly, patting Eddie on the back. “Eddie Diaz!”

Eddie melts when she looks up at him with those sweet eyes, he smirks, looking away for a second and biting his lip. It's subtle but Buck catches it, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” he says, looking back at you and shaking your hand “It’s nice to properly meet you Y/N”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Eddie,” You say, a smile on your face, you bite your lip and Buck sees that too. He looks down at you, and then back up at Eddie.. and then right back down to you. His head goes up and down like a paddle ball and he whips out his phone, distractedly pushing you at Eddie.

“Ed do me a favor and keep her entertained for a minute. I need to call Maddie real quick I uh- I remembered something”

“Don’t you dare tell her I’m here! I want to surprise her” you warn him and Buck struggles, his hands gesturing wildly.

“Oh. Uhhh I’m sorry. I already texted her!” Chim interjects, shrugging awkwardly and you frown a little but shrug back “Oh okay! That’s fine”

Buck shoots Chimney a thumbs up for covering for him and immediately calls Maddie, running down the stairs for privacy.

“So um…where are you from?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Admittedly he does it to make his chest look better, and God does it. Hen snickers but ignores him doing that and Chim makes faces behind your back at Eddie.

“Oh, I’ve been in Minnesota for a while! It’s nice there, pretty quiet. I’m maybe looking for a place around here now though… but don’t tell Buck or Maddie I don’t wanna get their hopes up.

“Buck would probably just make you move in with him,” Bobby comments over his salad.

“Hey! We have plenty of space” Chim adds “if you’re looking for something temporary. I'm sure Maddie wouldn’t even mind permanent if we were able to discuss it”

“Eddie has a spare room. If you were here temporarily at least, that would probably be your best bet at this point” Hen chimes in, looking at him. His cheeks heat up and he chokes a little on his coffee

“I- I mean. I-“ he doesn’t even know what to say to that because god yes would he want that. Is that premature? That’s premature. Like so premature wanting to live with you……Anyway, a dog maybe? he knows exactly what old clothes he’d get rid of too to make space in his closet for you. Definitely a dog, gonna name him-

“Okay, okay slow down you guys” You laugh lightly, interrupting his internal life planning.

“I’m not moving in with anyone yet. It’s just a thought… and there’s no way in hell I’d feel comfortable imposing on Eddie like that. Family is one thing. A literal stranger? Yeah, I don’t know.”

“It’s not an imposition!” Eddie is way too quick with that answer. He clears his throat

“I- it wouldn’t be. That is if you need a place to crash. Besides I’m at work all day you know! It’s not like my place gets too much use…”

“See! Problem solved!” Hen says happily and you roll your eyes at her, scrunching your nose and making a little face at her

“Oh ha-ha, very funny. I’m not moving in with Eddie”

“You’re moving in with Eddie?!” Buck’s mouth is dropped wide open as he stands at the top of the stairs.

“What?! No!” You tell him, your hands up in defense “I’m not moving in with anyone.”

“Good,” Buck says as he picks up his chair from earlier. “Because if you’re moving in with anyone it’s gonna be me.”

“Told you” Bobby rolls his eyes.

After he finishes his pad, Thai, Buck eagerly shows you around the firehouse, dragging you and Eddie around like a kid in a candy shop. He just has so much he wants to show you, and he wants Eddie there “for backup” in case he misses anything. He proudly shows off his locker and you giggle, he’s incredibly cute sometimes. He shows off Eddie’s locker too, to which Eddie rolls his eyes and shuts the door, giving him a shove.

“Trust me when I say I saved the best for last.”He climbs up into the truck, reaching out for you. “Eddie help her?” He requests, taking your hands in his. Eddie shrugs, putting his hands firmly on your hips as you step up into the truck, he gives you a little lift and push and you’re in. Buck winks at you and you roll your eyes as Eddie climbs in behind the two of you.

“Isn’t this cool?!” He practically yells “Cool” and you’re looking around like a little owl, your eyes wide, head swiveling. It’s a lot to take in but it’s cool, he’s right.

“Uh, yeah!!!” You agree, touching everything in sight. Eddie sits on one of the seats and watches you walk around a bit, looking at everything and running your fingers over it. Buck makes you sit down in one of the seats and buckles you in.

“You look awesome!” He chuckles as he takes pictures of you for Maddie. He unbuckles his belt and gets up, looking around outside the door. Eddie gets on one knee, helping to unbuckle you. He looks up at you as you pull your arms out from the straps

“Thanks” Your voice is a little breathless, god his smile is gorgeous and he smells so damn good.

“Yeah no problem” He grins, standing up out of your way.

“Hey Y/N, you wanna pretend to drive?” Buck asks excitedly, rubbing his hands together as he turns back around.

“Oh my god, can I??? Please!!” You squeak and Eddie chuckles, shaking his head at the two of you…he can see your similarities. Buck makes Eddie get out first and smirks as Eddie grabs your hips again, it’s a little harder getting out and you stumble into his arms, squeaking.

“Hey, Don’t worry I got you” He chuckles, holding you against his chest, you look up at him as he smiles down at you.

“T-thanks uhh again, I guess' ' you mumble, your cheeks feeling like they’re practically on fire. Buck sits on the floor of the truck, swinging his feet as he just gleefully watches the interaction. Eddie sets you down properly, taking a second before he lets you go.

“Guess he’s gonna make you help me into the front seat too huh?” You ask a bit shyly

“I’m lazy as hell so yes” Buck pipes up from behind you and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind it anyway, just gives me an excuse to get closer to you” He practically purrs and even though he’s joking (he’s not) you melt on the spot, your mouth falling open quickly and snapping shut just as fast. He cracks up as he helps you up into the driver's seat. His hands feel so hot on your hips, they sear into your sides and you wish he’d keep them there. Eddie shuts the door and goes around to the other side, climbing inside.

“Alright children, go crazy” he teases you and Buck as he watches, he has to swat your hand away from so many buttons that Buck is trying to make you push. Eventually, you’re both just doing it to drive him crazy.

“Honk the horn, honk the horn!!” Buck chants from the backseat and you look over at Eddie, he shakes his head snickering as he nods

“Alright alright, God. Go ahead, Bobby will know Buck made ya do it”

You put both hands on the large horn and push down, the loud honking noise echoes through the entire station and Buck bursts out laughing. You fall back in the seat, kicking your legs laughing excitedly and it takes everything in Eddie not to just lean over and kiss you. You look so happy and gleeful as you all hear Bobby already yelling at Buck

“Scatter!!!” Buck yells and jumps from the truck, running away.

“No! No, that's not fair!” You yell after him, as Eddie jumps from the front seat too. You scramble over to the other chair and Eddie is already waiting with his arms out to you. It stalls you for a second, your heart beating out of your chest as you climb down into his arms.

“Safe and sound,” he says as he shuts the door and pulls you with him over to a little corner to hide. You can see everything from there, you’re pressed against Eddie as you both watch Bobby coming down the stairs. Buck is hiding in front of the engine, he runs around the opposite side and you’re giggling. Eddie is snorting as he covers your mouth

“Shhhh you’re gonna get us caught” he whispers and god does Eddie not want to be caught. He didn’t mean for this to happen, for your body to be pressed into his, one hand on your back pressing you into him and the other over your mouth. It’s intimate, and soon your giggles die out and you look up at him, his hand still over your mouth. You both stare into each other’s eyes…is it getting hot in here??? Did someone open the bay doors??

He slowly removes his hand and you blink at him

“Sorry” he apologizes softly, he’s just glad there’s no way you can feel the way his heart is beating out of his chest.

“It’s cool,” you say back just as quietly, feeling the same way. You bite your lip, your hands feeling the hard muscles under his tight shirt. Kinda makes you wonder if all his clothes fit him this nicely.

You’re about to say something when alarms start blaring. You jump, holding onto the front of his shirt and he pulls you in for a second

“Shit- Shit I gotta go,” he says, reluctantly letting you go. “Hopefully I’ll see you again sometime soon” He tilts your chin up, like he wants to kiss you but decides against it… he did just meet you. Instead, he kisses your forehead before running off to get his stuff on.

The truck is gone for about 10 minutes before you get a text from Buck, telling you Maddie is coming to pick you up and take you back to his place and that he’ll see you for dinner. He sends a little heart emoji at the end of the message and you smirk. Buck was ridiculous, sincere, but ridiculous.

The truck rolls back into the station a couple of hours later, It’s time to clean up and head out, their shifts are almost over finally. They work together, putting things back in their places and giving the truck a little wipe-down in a few places. Finally, Bobby dismisses them as the next shift starts coming in.

Eddie walks into the changing room, exhausted and ready to crash at home. He grabs his clothes and tosses them down, grabbing his shirt and yanking it tiredly over his head.

“So are you ... into her?” Buck asks as he walks in, getting his stuff together and standing next to Eddie to change and chat. He pulls his blue shirt over his head and looks at Eddie as he reaches for his pants

“Into who?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, pulling up his pants. He knows exactly who he’s talking about but he’s not confirming that.

“ “Into who” Yeah okay” Buck scoffs “Are you into Y/N?”

“Buck I just met her this afternoon. How could I be into her.” He lies through his teeth…and Buck sees right through him.

“Okay sure, anyway. Since you wanna play coy I’m not inviting you to dinner anymore”

“Wait, you were inviting me to dinner?” He stops buttoning his pants and looks over at Buck who’s pulling on his jeans

“Yeah I was… but since someone isn’t into someone… I’m not bothering” he buttons his pants and claps him on the back “See ya tomorrow bestie!” He goes to leave, a smirk on his face and Eddie stops him, grabbing his arm.

“I’m not….I’m not saying I’m into her. But- like-“ he sighs

“I’m hungry”

Buck walks into the studio, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat. Maddie is sitting at the table, eating a bowl of grapes and you’re standing at the stove, stirring the pot.

“I’m telling you Mads, he is literally so cu-“

Maddie cuts you off, clearing her throat “Hey Buck! Hey… Eddie?”

Buck pushes Eddie ahead of him and over to the counter, he walks past him to the fridge and grabs a couple of drinks

“Look who’s staying for dinner,” He says in a singsong voice, tossing Eddie a bottle of water, Eddie rolls his eyes and leans against the small counter next to the stove, he gives you a wink as he opens the bottle

“Hope you don’t mind? He just invited me at the last minute” He shrugs, sipping the water. He looks over at Maddie, who is staring at Buck intensely. They’re definitely having a sibling conversation.

“No, not at all! I made more than enough!! I’m glad you could join us.” You give him a little hip bump, feeling your cheeks flush and he bumps you back. He looks up to see Maddie and Buck staring at the two of you, Buck eagerly wiggles, trying to hide his excitement, you turn around and he instantly stops, making Eddie laugh.

Dinner is good- like really good, Eddie hasn’t eaten Mexican food like that in a while, sure he could go to Catrina’s but it’s just different when it’s from home. Buck had nearly shoved Eddie into the chair next to you, as he plopped down next to Maddie

“Oh don’t mind me! Just wanna sit by my wonderful, loving, perfect, sister” he explained and Maddie facepalmed, Buck couldn’t be more obvious…but at the same time, you couldn’t be more oblivious…Buck was acting weird but he’s Buck he’s always weird.

“So I guess it’s safe to say you’ve got a little Latin flair in you hm?” Eddie asks as he takes a bite from his carnitas, even the tortillas are freshly made. You’d brought them with you from home for Maddie and Buck.

“Yup,” you smile proudly as he moans and rolls his eyes back “I’m half Mexican. And uh, I take it the food is good?”

“I’m so sorry for the absolute slut I’m about to become while eating this, yes it’s delicious” he nods his head while he’s eating and you break down laughing. Buck and Maddie are looking at each other with that certain sparkle in their eyes again while you’re shoving Eddie and he’s stealing a bite of your rice.

It’s kind of natural the way you hang all over Eddie over dinner and the way he holds onto you, maybe it’s the Hispanic in you both, very touchy. Or maybe it’s just that he’s fun to be around. Eddie learns a good deal about you, most of it incredibly embarrassing as Buck can’t help himself but tell all of your embarrassing moments as kids together. Eddie gets him back for you, telling the story about how he quite literally peed himself on a date once and you and Maddie are both scream laughing as Buck starts throwing leftover lettuce at Eddie screaming at him to shut up.

“I’m sorry you got into a lettuce war” You giggle as you walk out to Eddie’s car together, nudging each other occasionally. He’s got his hands in his pockets

“Yeah that’s Buck for you”

Buck had made you walk Eddie out to his car, claimed he absolutely had no choice but to start the dishes or he’d forget, and said Maddie had to use the bathroom and it wasn’t safe for pregnant women to hold it for so long. You’re pretty sure he made that last part up but you just shrug it off, slipping on your slides and following Eddie outside.

You stop in front of his car and you lean against it a little, dragging your finger down the hood. He clears his throat and you look up at him, he’s blushing as he runs his fingers through his hair nervously.

“Do you…wanna like to hang out? While you’re in town?”

“Yeah sure why not! You’re Buck’s best friend I’m sure he’d love to “

“No no- just. Like just us. Just me and you?” He interrupts you, as he gets in his car.

“Oh,” You feel your cheeks flush. “Like…- like a date?”

“No! No not. Okay- okay that sounds bad I said it way too fast-“ He’s stumbling over his words “Jus- just like being cool hanging out I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t ask you on a date…yet. Like we just met you know so I mean I don’t want to take things too fast for you!!”

His head falls heavily back against the headrest groaning at his awkwardness, and you’re smirking, your arms crossed over your chest. He looks over at you, his voice low as he takes a deep breath.

“Would you like to go to the zoo with me this weekend? As friends. I’d like to get to know you better.”

You smile at him, leaning into the car window and kissing him on the cheek.

“I would love to go to the zoo with you this weekend, as friends”

Eddie rolls his eyes, that blush on his cheeks deepening as he starts the car, looking at you. “Friends don’t kiss friends” He dares to say that as if he hadn’t kissed your forehead that afternoon.

“I promise you, friends kiss friends on the cheek. Trust me” You tell him a matter of factly, assuring him as you step back, giving him a little wave.

“Guess I gotta get on that trend huh?”

He smirks as he drives off. Is he speeding? Yes. But does it look cool as hell, also yes. He’s so giddy all the way home. Not only does he have a Tupperware full of some of the best food he’s eaten in a long time that you’d shoved in his hands and refused to take no for an answer when he tried to tell you he couldn’t possibly take it. But you’d also said yes to the date… okay a “friend” date but you still said yes!!

The next morning he’s got a little more pep in his step, he gets through his workout faster than usual and he’s even early to work.

“You’re in a good mood” Hen comments, as she drinks her coffee, he shrugs as he finishes tucking his shirt into his pants

“I guess I am …yeah” He smiles, fixing his hair. He is in a good mood…he can’t stop thinking about you. He’d even dreamed about you… it was impossible not to think about you. It’s like he could smell your perfume as he was just standing there, whatever you wore was everything to him, he could practically bathe in it.

“Why are you standing with your hands in your hair like that?” You giggle as you walk up next to him.

Oh, so he could smell your perfume.

“I was just distracted..” He says awkwardly, turning towards you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought brownies! Me and Maddie are hanging out today so she brought me up here ...didn't realize I’d run into you” you say, your hands behind your back as you look around the firehouse.

“Didn’t think I’d get to see you either…” he says, mimicking your stance

He leans down, kissing you on the cheek. His lips are soft and plump and it makes you blush, his hand ghosts over your hip before he pulls you a little closer to him.

“So, I was thinking we could go to lunch after the zoo? If you wanted”

He’s so close now, looking down at you. He’s tall…and he still smells so good, like he always does. You could bottle that and just bathe in it.

“Lunch?” your voice is a bit dreamy as you feel his hand on your hip. He’d been touching you yesterday too and today felt just as good. You can practically feel his body against yours like it was the other day when you were hiding.

“Yeah, figured we could go to the zoo early…maybe spend the day together. If you’re okay with that” His voice is smooth, sort of deep. Like he’s purposely trying to overwhelm your senses.

“Y…yeah okay. Yeah, that sounds nice” you agree easily because he is overwhelming you. And you can’t help the way your lips part softly like you just need to know what his feels like. He’s got a smirk on his face as his eyes flick down to your lips, he runs his tongue over his own before he chuckles lightly.

“Alright…it’s a date. But you know, not” His voice is playful as he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes, finally pushing at his chest, shoving him away from you.

“Yeah, yeah whatever I’ll see you this weekend.” You can finally breathe again.

He watches you walk away, practically thirsting over that sway in your hips and the way those shorts you’re wearing hug your body so deliciously.

“Shoulda taken her to the beach…” he mumbles to himself.

“Can you not eye fuck my cousin in front of me please, I truly don’t think that’s too hard of a request.” Buck groans as he shoves a brownie in Eddie’s mouth.

“And she’s good at baking?!” Eddie moans around his bite, accepting the brownie from Bucks's hand

Buck rolls his eyes “Of course she’s good at baking. She’s good at everything”

“Eddie you better get to talking to her before I do” Hen threatens him jokingly “These are damn good”

“I know okay, I know” Eddie sighs “I’m not going to jump at her though, that’s like….desperate right? I don’t want to come off as desperate…even if I think she’s pretty. Like really pretty- stupid pretty”

“Hey, guys? You think she’s pretty?” Chim asks as he comes over to help Hen restock the engine.

“Not sure. Maybe we should ask Eddie” Hen nods as she walks away with him.

Eddie rolls his eyes, flicking them both off as he leans against the wall, rubbing his hands over his face. Buck chuckles at him, putting his hand on his arm.

“She's not gonna think you’re desperate Eddie… Y/N isn’t like that. And I think she’s into you too. Just be yourself, man, You’re a good guy Eddie, and a total catch. I love Y/N with all of my heart but if she can’t see that? She’s a total loser. And you know two sides of the same coin if you can’t see she’s the greatest woman in the entire world you’re the loser” He snickers as he elbows Eddie in the ribs. Eddie chuckles and sighs nudging Buck back.

“Thank you for restoring my confidence…I needed that. You’re the greatest friend in the world man, honestly”

Bobby makes a gagging sound as he walks by “And you’re the greatest crew in the world” He says in a high-pitched voice, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Hey! We’re having a moment” Buck says, throwing his napkin at Bobby.

Masterlist

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley #chimney han #bobby nash #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #maddie buckley #words by Rhys #Rhys writes #wish I knew more tagsss #this is gettin pretty awkwardddd #eddie x y/n #reader insert #maybe I’ll remember more #Strawberries and Cream

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chunksworld · 2 years ago

Text

Moth to a Flame

IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N 1: Welcome to another episode of Chunk goes monkey brain. Credit goes to @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading

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From: Vicky Jang

“She told me she just got on the plane, daddy. You know what to do.”

You should’ve known that she had something up her sleeve as soon as your girlfriend left for Japan. You should’ve known how opportunistic she is and yet you find yourself driving to her apartment as quickly as possible once again like you don’t already have a significant other that loves you very, very, very much. It should have raised red flags when you didn’t receive any messages from her the week leading up to your girlfriend’s departure. It was foolish from you to think that maybe, just maybe, she finally realized just how extremely messed up the situation is. You should’ve known better, you should be better. But it really doesn’t matter now because it was pathetic how quickly you dressed up as soon as you received that text from her. You couldn’t even wait until your girlfriend has completely left the country and you’re already dying to dick down her best friend out of all people.

It’s infuriating how addicted you are to Jang Wonyoung. It’s infuriating how she can manipulate you. It’s infuriating how easily she can gaslight you. It’s infuriating how you are willingly giving in to all of it. And what makes all of the above worse is that she’s not even your girlfriend to begin with. No, she’s just your girlfriend’s beloved best friend that somehow crept her way into your life like some sort of parasite waiting for a vulnerable host. And you were vulnerable in more ways than one because it only took one session of drinking before she was able to seduce you and you’ve been falling prey constantly ever since. It didn’t help that you’ve already developed some sort of attraction with her that you tried so hard to hide deep inside you because of your “morals” but it’s almost disgusting to even bring out such a word at this point. Knock on the door in a specific pattern that only you two know and you’re met with a surprise that far exceeds your expectations.

“Wonyo—“

Only one foot inside and you already find your body meshed with hers, lips doing the same as you haphazardly close the door behind while you attempt to weather the storm that is Jang Wonyoung. It’s all too overwhelming and yet you should be familiar with it now; one second you find yourself engaging in an awkward dance in the middle of her spacious living room and then another finds you blindly crashing on top of her sofa (be careful not to land on her pillows again or she might actually kill you this time). An outsider might think that this is all just one giant mess but everything is carefully orchestrated; Wonyoung is one for establishing routines and sex is no different matter. Her slender fingers make quick work of your hoodie, hurling it god knows where and leaving you awkwardly in a white tank top that you wore in a rush. You hope she would look past it and she fortunately does, more so because it gives her an even better opportunity to ogle at your biceps than she usually would and such a sight turns her on immensely (though that’s something she won’t ever admit to you).

“Hmm. I’ve missed you so much, daddy.”

You hate it.

You hate how one word can bring the most primal and sinful desires out of you, the way she utters it with such conviction and vigor devolving you into a shell of your former self (which doesn’t say that much considering you’re so willingly giving in to what she wants). You hate how her perfume lures you every single time, notes of red berries and datura flowers driving you further and further into the edge of your sanity. You hate how those lips intoxicate you much faster than any alcoholic concoction could; their taste and texture rivaled by none—soft, plump, and with a hint of the peach-flavored lip balm she always uses. You hate how amazing her body feels against yours, tight, slim, curvy and oh-so-delectable in all of the right places. You hate how just one measly text from her brings you right into her apartment every single time. You hate how you always promise to yourself that this shouldn’t happen ever again and yet you find yourself itching to fuck her right at this very moment. You hate how easily you forget the fact that she’s not your girlfriend—or even worse, you hate the fact that she’s not your girlfriend.

“Wony, I told you not to say that.” It’s a feeble attempt in trying to look and sound intimidating when she already knows you too well—even better than your own girlfriend, unfortunately. It’s almost pathetic hearing her laugh in response, her teeth sinking into her bruised lower lips to prevent herself from destroying your ego even further though the sight just makes her that much tempting to your eyes. She knows how much power she holds over you, an irony considering her position in this power dynamic you two have going on; and yet it’s a position she’ll gladly relegate from if it means getting fucked until she can’t walk the following morning. But she’s too nice of a girl to push you to your limits and she doesn’t want her dick appointment to be ruined so she pulls you for another kiss to subdue your feigned anger. It’s embarrassing how quickly your anger is quelled the more she swirls her tongue around yours, the more amorous sounds that emit from those lips of hers, the lower her hand travels starting from your well-defined abs down to the raging tent forming on your gray sweatpants.

“Or what, daddy?”

It’s downright poisonous, the way her eyes dare you to do something, anything and yet you’re like a deer in the headlights. Those damn alluring eyes. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary either, it’s common knowledge that you’re too much of a coward to actually confront her about the usage of that particular term of endearment (See, the truth is that you actually love the fuck out of being called “daddy”, but why boost her inflated ego even further by telling her? Keep acting like you hate it and she’ll continue to tease you for it). Thankfully, there’s still a small part of you that is completely aware of just how wrong all of this is—and this small remnant of humanity in you wants to inform her of such unjustness. To inform her that you have a girlfriend who you have a loving relationship with, that you should be in your shared apartment and FaceTiming her because she’s bored out of her mind in that hotel room, that all you should be worrying about right now is how to make sure her dog doesn’t leave a mess all over the place. Isn’t it your anniversary in a few weeks?

“I can’t.” Of course you can’t. It’s a “grass is green and the sky is blue” situation. Any response other than that would freeze hell over (not that you aren’t there already). Was it worth trying? Perhaps. But all it does is make Wonyoung even more impatient—and you should know out of all people just how incredibly difficult it is to deal with an extremely horny and needy princess. This brief moment of vulnerability enables her to flip your positions, straddling your lap. Groan as the underside of her shorts make contact with your clothed length and the sensation almost sends you into a frenzy. A proud smile paints her features—it’s another battle won for her and you didn’t even put up a fight. Maybe you should stop trying at this point, you’d rather paint her face with your cum anyways. That will surely look better on her than the loads of makeup she spends hundreds of dollars on.

“That’s what I thought. Now take these clothes off of me— and wait! Don’t rip them, okay? I’ll cut your dick off if I have to throw away another expensive top.”

“You’ll have nothing to fuck then. And if I recall, none of your toys can make you scream as loud as I do. I don’t think you want that to happen. Right, Miss Jang?” Checkmate.

“Hmph, shut up!”

Before either of you could retort, you sit up to meet her at face level. Take this moment to appreciate just how gorgeous she is, a face truly sculpted by the gods and made to be ruined. Starstruck couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when Yujin introduced her to you, it was like looking at a Michelangelo piece come to life. Except she’s actually real and you’re about to spend another night finding out just how perfect she is, no need to snoop around in a museum somewhere in Europe. Brush loose strands of her hair aside and grab her by the waist, pulling her into a kiss that is gentler and softer than the first two. It’s captivating, alluring, and addicting. It’s a feeling you don’t quite achieve even in your hottest sessions with your girlfriend and deep down, that’s probably what kills you the most. “You’re so gorgeous, Wony.”

“Save the compliments for later, I want you to fuck me hard right now, daddy.” Before you could even do the honors, she’s already pulling her top over her head and you do the same to yours. Wonyoung moans as your lips latch on to her neck; kissing, licking, and biting as you give her hickeys but you’re careful not to leave any darker ones or you’ll be out of here in a flash. It’s so sinful the way she moans your name, and it fills you with elation knowing that you’re the only one out of eight billion people on this planet that is capable of such a feat. It sends more blood rushing to your groin and you can’t wait to just ruin her. Your hands aren’t idle however, roaming her smooth back as you search for the clasps of her lace bra before throwing it with the same force as she did with your hoodie.

She’s definitely not as big as Yujin but her breasts are perky, taut, and just the right size to fit in the palm of your hands. You’ve grown to love them over time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. They look perfect in your hands and even better once you have your lips wrapped around them. Trail your kisses down to her collarbones, continuing to leave marks while you fondle her tits. It only makes her moan louder and you bring your lips to hers to silence her—you two have already received a noise complaint and you don’t want her to get kicked out (it’s definitely not purely because you want to kiss her again). But it’s useless once you do end up sucking on her tits, careful not to overstimulate her while your tongue twists around her areolas and your lips latch on to the soft flesh.

You would gladly stay like this until the end of time but of course the night couldn’t end like this because before you knew it, she already had a firm grip on the waistband of your sweatpants. Regretfully lift your face off her tits and she gives you a look that could only scream “fuck me already.” And what Wonyoung wants, Wonyoung gets. She removes herself off your lap and pulls the obstructing fabric down in one swift motion, immediately exposing your fully-erect cock to the cold air of her apartment. She almost drools at the sight, but she doesn’t want you to boost your ego either so she could only cover her hand to prevent you from hearing any sounds of arousal. But it really doesn’t matter because at the end of this night, you’ll have her screaming for your dick as if her life depended on it.

“Commando? Seriously? And yet here you were acting like you didn’t want to do this?” She tries hard not to give any further reaction and yet, her eyes can only look at its size and girth in awe. The sheer attention she gives to it almost makes you want to pull up your sweatpants again because of how much precum is dribbling out due to arousal. Completely remove your sweatpants and it joins the scattered pieces of clothing in her living room. Now you’re completely naked; and as much as you don’t want to think about it, not even Yujin gets the privilege of seeing you in such a state regularly (go ahead, keep thinking about your girlfriend and that would make it two women you’ll disappoint tonight). Just focus on Wonyoung, you already made it all the way to this point so you might as well see through it.

Make her straddle your lap again, this time working on unbuttoning her shorts and taking off her matching lace panties that are absolutely drenched. You would tease her for this but given the mutual overflowing lust for each other, you decide to save that for a later time. Now both of you are fully naked and given how wet she is, it makes the task of sliding her down your length much easier. Though it doesn’t say much considering how tight she is, even tighter than Yujin, despite the handful of times you’ve had sex with her already. You almost groan in pain as her nails dig deep on the skin of your back while your cock digs deep inside her warm and suffocating pussy. She screams, the sound reverberating throughout her studio apartment and given how thin the walls are, you two are about to give her neighbors a show tonight.

“So fucking tight, Wony. So. Fucking. Tight.” You hiss and grit your teeth as you fill her more and more, stretching her out with every inch inserted inside her. It takes a few more seconds before you can finally impale her, your tip reaching her cervix and then completely pulling out—audible whines from Wonyoung as she grabs your cock from underneath and forces you back into her. She’s so damn needy. But you would be lying if you said you aren’t either because you grip her ass needily as you begin to stroke upwards, immediately sending shockwaves throughout her slim body as she falls slump on your chest. Her slick thankfully aids in helping you maneuver or you’ll have to use some lube (something you’ve only had to do when she asked to do anal once and you’ve been dying to try it again).

“God—ah—f-fuck, daddy. You’re stretching me out so well.” Hot and heavy breaths send goosebumps all over your body as she buries her face on the crook of your neck, completely pressing her warm body against yours (you actually wanted to kiss her again but you’d gladly feel every inch of her perfect body as an alternative) and god, does she feel so fucking amazing. The way her thighs crash against yours, the thunderous slapping of skin on skin mixing with the faint noise of the heater turning on in the background, her moans flowing directly into your ears—it’s all too much to handle and as much as you hate to admit it, the fact that she’s not even yours to begin with is what truly sends you spiraling into a world of bliss. You’ve already fucked up anyways, might as well indulge to the fullest before judgement day comes.

And indulge you do because soon enough, you’re moaning and groaning much like she does—only at a lower tone as if a conductor is telling you to harmonize with her. But eventually, it gets drowned out by the continuous slapping of your hips to her thighs, creating a vociferous squelching noise that only increases in volume and confirms just how wet and aroused she is. Look down and the juices flowing down her thighs adds further evidence as it stains your crotch with her precious honey as well—such a delectable treat shouldn’t be wasted and should be lapped up instead. Fortunately you have the weekend all to yourselves so you can eat her out all day tomorrow if you want.

“H-Heh. You’re really enjoying this aren’t you, daddy?” Wonyoung lifts up her face to look at you for the first time in a while and she looks so beautiful, breathtaking, and absolutely fucked. Tears have begun to well under her eyes and yet somehow her mascara is still intact, guess it was money well spent after all. “I bet Yujin unnie can’t fuck you this good, huh? I wonder what she would be saying right now once she finds out that her best friend loves getting dicked down by her man, hmm?” It should make you angry, it definitely has to make you angry. But every sexual encounter with her has stripped you of any sense of dignity and honor. And at this point, you don’t give a damn about anything else other than giving in to your desires.

“Shut the fuck up, Wony.” You have no response either, so you just grab on the sides of her face and pull her into another kiss. “Just shut the fuck up and take this dick like the cumslut you are.” Fuck it. You go back to the hickeys you’ve made earlier and turn them to an even darker shade of red, making it near impossible to hide the sinful events that took place tonight. No worries, it’s not like you two are planning to leave this house for the next two days anyways. You want to make sure that you’ve fucked her in every single corner and in every position manageable. You don’t see it but a smirk appeared on her face. She got you worked up again like she wanted and it caused you to be even more aggressive just like how she wanted. You really are just a moth to her flame, how pathetic.

“Of course, where else would I want your cum? Turn me into your breeding bunny, daddy.” A sultry whisper to your ear and it unlocks an even more primal side from you. Plant your feet on the couch and you begin to fuck her with reckless abandon like the wild animal you are. Wrap her long legs around your waist and lift yourselves off the couch, a position that almost makes your knees give out. But your leg muscles are there for a reason as you grab on the back of her thighs and pound her relentlessly. It’s raw, it’s hot, and it’s so fucking passionate. The way her sweaty body would lift high up in the air before gravity brings it right back to your cock, the way she clings on to you for dear life, the way she tries to kiss you despite it being an almost impossible task. The air grows increasingly hot signaling your impending orgasm.

“I-I can’t hold on much longer—ah, shit. I can’t hold on much longer, fuck.” Thank goodness her floor isn’t made out of carpet because her slick starts to seep out of her pussy with every deep thrust. Usually she would respond with a one-liner but she’s so deep into her own world of ecstasy that all she could do is cry and wail as your spearing length continues to drive home into her cervix. You can’t talk that much more either because the familiar, bubbling sensation in your stomach only grows with each thrust. And the way she clings on to you for dear life, screaming to the world how good your cock is only serves to expedite and intensify your eventual undoing. It only leads you closer to completely unraveling like she intends you to, like how you’re supposed to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuckkk! I’m gonna fucking cum inside you, Wony. Gonna cum and fill that tight pussy.”

“Don’t fucking stop, daddy, I-I’m gonna cum as well. Please—“

“FUCK!”

With one final deep and unrelenting thrust, you completely explode. It’s a shout that’s definitely justifiable enough to cause your eviction, even more so as she joins you in your peak. It’s a sensation that’s overwhelming and numbing at once. Your vision is filled with white. You can feel your ears ringing, legs completely giving out as you crash back down on the couch. An out-of-body experience that only happens with her leading you to become breathless and scrambling for air. You won’t stop cumming, can’t stop cumming as ropes upon ropes of semen continue to unload inside her, every jolt of your hips make sure to shoot your cum deep and fill her walls white. It fills you to and over the brim with bliss, a feeling that you want to chase over and over again. It’s addicting, it’s mind blowing, and it leaves your balls completely drained inside her. So much so that your cum immediately starts dripping out of her fucked pussy as soon as the last spurts have been left inside her, an erotic sight that you will never get tired of.

A few minutes past before the tremors completely stop and you engage in a mindless makeout session with her to help you two calm down. Brush loose strands of disheveled hair aside as you can gradually feel her breathing return to normal, wrap your arms around her waist possessively and she squeals due to her heightened sensitivity. “You filled me up so well daddy, fuck…..” Wonyoung takes a finger and swipes at a streak of cum that drizzled out of her and brings it to her mouth as if it was spilled ice cream, her facial expression indiscernible. “Yum! Next time I want it all in my mouth, m’kay?”

“God, you’re insatiable.”

She gives you a kiss, then she starts grinding her hips again. “Only for you, daddy.”

#ive smut #wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung smut #male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut

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