#anyways....i keep trying to pretend like its not effecting me but like....no it fucking sucks to have someone you were incredibly close with
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yet again wondering when ill realize that certain people do not change and are always going to try to fuck me up ):
#self#basically this friend i have who is....an enigma#we have had like 3 or 4 falling outs bc shes a fucking psychopath and loses her shit a few times a year since ive known her#anyways last night she came at me WRECKLESS claiming shes been told i said some horrible ass shit about her that i Literally Did Not#and she said some mean ass shit to me#anyways....i keep trying to pretend like its not effecting me but like....no it fucking sucks to have someone you were incredibly close with#just decide theyre going to believe other people over you#she was being so mean and i made it so ungodly obvious that i dont feel negatively about her and that i genuinely just wish her well#and everyone ive talked to about it that knows her just keeps trying to get me to block her and all say the same hateful stuff they always#used to when it comes to her...which trust me at this point i fucking get it#but i hate that i still want to defend her after she refused to listen to me and basically called me a charity case#fun fact cunt!! i actually have other friends and people who genuinely want me around meanwhile besides me all you have is friends who have#told me they think you are literally dangerous and scary and you have your mom and shitty fiance and your god damn baby#but sure im the fucking charity case#im also just....i am too fucking old for this shit and shes even older than me and has a god damn kid like im begging you just mature a bit#not to god damn mention she blamed every single one of her problems on me NEWSFLASH no i didnt sister#that was all you and your doing!!!#anyways sorry for the rant and god bless anyone who read these tags i am So Sorry
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I already commented on ur post asking for asks so just in case u didn’t see.
How do u figure out ur art style?
How did you drak fabric so well?
How do you draw body types so good?
Can you show me how to do the shiny effect you use for armor or golden stuff?
How do you draw such intricate people?
what is one of your first Zelda memories?
what are some Zelda core memories?
when did you come across the linked universe fandom?
I am also working on a au, it’s on my page and you shouldn’t have to scroll far, but long story short it’s called
linked universe: broken chain
and I was wondering if you had any ideas for additions to the new chain of links?
also there’s more details I’m thinking about posting later for the au, but if you have any design ideas for characters then I would love to hear/see them
also:what is your favorite OUTFIT(not person) to draw?
what one do you think is the prettiest or coolest?
what one do you think looks funky/off? Is there anything you would change? What feels weird about them?
sorry if that’s too many questions, but you needed a distraction so I provided, I know ur probably not feeling good right now so I just want to make sure your at least happy, I know what it feels like to need to keep your mind from wandering. But also:
I hope to the golden three you’ve been feeding, watering, cleaning, medicating, sleeping, and generally taking care of yourself because i might pop though my iPad, through the internet, through whatever your using to read this, and into your room to strangle you and take care of you my self because you deserve it! You make so many people happy with your art and interactions and it sucks to know your in a less than great mood to say the least. So take this as you will, but more importantly take care of yourself and get some sleep, because I know you are probably reading this at fuck o clock at night. *makes pointed, intense metaphorical eye contact* I mean it, try and take care of thine bitch self. *smacks you with affection*
ill toss my reply under a read more since its a long ask eheh
ive already answered the questions in response to the reply you sent to the post and i greatly appreciate all the questions youve offered !!
what is one of your first Zelda memories?
playing skyward sword !! i really REALLY enjoyed the wing ceremony - the introduction to flight using motion controls was one of my favourite things. i could spend hours flying around and using the wii-mote to pick a direction or flap the wings. it was gorgeous in my eyes as well. skyloft was a safe spot that i did not really leave, i was less interested in the rest of the game aside from faron. twilight princess as well !! i quite enjoyed running around on epona or in the wolf form. i did not get much done in either game, but i was mostly there for the sights, anyway.
what are some Zelda core memories?
zeldacore memories ... my grandparents have an orchard that we would go pick from. sometimes if the apples werent good they would take us to a public orchard to pick apples there. when i was a kid i would grab a sword [ foam, of course ] and go out with my sister and we would hack down weeds and also pretend to battle one another to protect fake kingdoms that we would make up on the spot upon being questioned about it JFGHDFG we enjoyed running around and hiding in the orchard from one another. the same grandparents had some woods back behind their house, we'd go take walks through there sometimes and skuttle around thru the weeds and such.
when did you come across the linked universe fandom?
mmm thats a good question. im pretty sure it was the start of 2019-ish? maybe 2020? im not very good with dates, but i knew of lu before i joined the server [ im no longer in that server tho ] !! i didnt really get into the fandom or whatever side of things until later, seeing as i was obsessing over loz at the time and ended up finding lu as an extension of that hyperfixation :)
what is your favorite OUTFIT(not person) to draw?
i would have to say im biased towards my legend design's outfit !! i like adding details and embroidery to it. if we went with JUST canon lu outfits i would say im biased towards hyrule or twilight's :)
what one do you think is the prettiest or coolest?
same answer as above !! my own for legend, but hyrule and twilight are pretty neat lookin. for Pretty i would have to say four - his tunic is rather ornate, especially when it comes to the embroidery in each square.
what one do you think looks funky/off? is there anything you would change? what feels weird about them?
honestly i think wind's could do with some updates and upgrades, but im not entirely the best at designing characters either. his model has definitely gotten better over time though !! i think its the shirt and pants. i havent played his game(s?) so i couldnt entirely give answers on what i would change.
and i GREATLY appreciate the questions and your concern. youve no reason to apologize - im quite honoured tht u took the time to even type any of this out to send to me !! i am doing my best with what ive got currently, but rest assured im caring for myself just fine !! i definitely was readin that at fuck-o-clock at night ( and am answering this at the same time, if not worse !! its 5am just about now )
ill be heading off to bed here soon, but i have been thinkin on how to respond to this HDFGGDG no need for the smacks of affection, tho appreciated!! ill be cozied up and asleep soon enough :)
as for your au; ill check it out when i wake !! im sure its fascinating, feel free to toss an ask again on some information / the ideas behind it in here :)
have a good night / day !! here is to hopefully better times in the future
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hi ! may i request the sinclair brothers (or all slashers if u want lol) with an s/o who forces them to watch all the twilight movies 😼 please and thank u 😸
AN: I've only watched the first part (died of cringe whenever I attempted the other ones) so bear with my minimal knowledge
Warning: hinted NSFW in Bo's, pretty short, only did the Sinclairs hehe
Vincent Sinclair
So you forced him to watch a movie with you which doesn't happen very often. Vincent works a lot and when he does relax, you usually take him for walks so he sees the sun at least once a week.
Your legs are on his lap, he's comfortably snuggled up next to you and you turn on Twilight.
He's so into it.
I see Vincent as someone who loves gothic stuff, dark art, vampires, and all that stuff.
Therefore, he knows that Twilight is not a good movie really, but he loves the vibes and the cinematography so much.
He really, really wants to be team Jacob but he ends up being team Edward. You tease him for it and he throws a pillow after you. Which really loses its effect because he immediately asks if he hurt you after he does it.
However, Vincent is an awkward person when it comes to socialization. So, watching Bella scenes is pure horror for him. At some point, he's hiding his face in his hands, unable to take it anymore.
Don't be surprised when he makes the characters out of wax.
'Y/N don't look at me like that, they fit into this town.'
You could really say he's inspired.
Regardless, please watch better vampire movies with him. If he's this smitten while watching Twilight, he'll go insane when he'll see Bram Stoker's Dracula.
Bo Sinclair
The fuck is this.
He thought he was sitting down with you, relaxing to one of the sappy romance movies he sees on TV every evening just to seduce you in the middle of it so he doesn't have to watch any more of it.
But this? He didn't prepare for this.
Bo really hates it. He hates the cast, he hates the plot, he hates the romance, he hates that the movie's for teens.
However, he loses his shit whenever Bella does anything. Literally. He's sitting there wheezing whenever she's awkward (which is always), coughing from how hard he's laughing.
"God damn, this movie's a piece of shit."
After you're done watching he pretends to hate it but he keeps quoting it weeks after you two watched it. And he cracks up every time.
Bo also tells his brothers so now you have to watch it again with the whole family.
So yeah, watch more bad movies with him, he loves to make fun of them.
Lester Sinclair
"You sure this is the right movie?" "Aight, if you say so."
He's confused but he's trying to stay supportive.
It takes Lester a little while to realize that you know the movie sucks, and you want to watch it anyway. That lessens his confusion and now he even cracks jokes about the plot to make you laugh.
He's into the love story and rooting for Jacob.
And then really angered when Edward wins.
It's really funny to watch him get more and more into it and by the end of the movie he acts like he's watching a football game.
The acting doesn't bother him s much as it does his brothers. He thinks it makes it even more hilarious. I feel like he already watched movies with bad acting in his free time because he really doesn't care.
He's the only brother who wants to watch the other parts following the first one. He's also the only brother who voluntarily watches romance movies with you.
I see him as a pretty romantic person and I also think he'd get emotional at sad love movies.
#lester sinclair#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#slashers#slasher x reader#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair imagine#house of wax 2005#house of wax#lester sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x you#vincent sinclair imagine#lester sinclair imagine#horror#HOW#HOW 2005#how 2005#twilight
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Tease
Summary: After teasing Eren all day on a date, he decides to teach you a lesson.
Warnings: public sex, unprotected sex, language
Pairings: Eren x reader
Gazing up at Eren, a slight grin on your face, his green eyes boring into your own. The lights from the cinema screen reflecting on his face. You were just able to make out the slight redness on his cheeks.
To be fair, you didn’t do much to make him react this way. He was so easy to work up. Yet, so were you. Especially around when Eren was around.
It was a hot day, and you didn’t miss the way Eren bit his lip and allowed his gaze to rove down your body when he picked you up from your home for your date and caught sight of you wearing his favourite summer dress.
Of course you planned this ahead. The dress, the lingering touches on his thigh, leaning your body against his own and pushing your breasts against his back all resulted in slight gasps gracing your ears.
If you were completely honest, you weren’t entirely sure if Eren was even aware of the effect he had on you sometimes. The simplest of things had your heart racing and your cheeks flushed. But his actions a few days ago were... unforgivable at best.
He teased you until you were putty in his hands, waiting for him to continue to his next move. You were a mess underneath him. Impatient. Yet patiently waiting for his next move. Until his phone rang. And he was off you in a second.
Armin had car troubles and needed Eren to fetch him from his part-time job. It was late. You didn’t blame Eren for leaving to help out his friend. But he never came back afterwards like he promised he would, and left you to take care of yourself.
That was the last time you saw your boyfriend - until now.
You remembered his voice over the phone. You could hear him pouting. How sorry he was that he didn’t come back for you. How Armin asked for more help with other things and later, he was so exhausted that he crashed on Armin’s couch. How he promised he would make it up to you this weekend.
It was safe to say that deep down, you already forgave him the second he called you. But you couldn’t resist teasing him now. Especially now in the darkness of the cinema.
You didn’t miss the way his voice turned husky and his grip tighten on the armrest when you leaned up to whisper a question about the movie in his ear. Your lips dragging gently across the warm skin and your breath fanning down his neck. Pushing your chest out just a little so he could see the faint outline of the swell of your breasts sticking out from the top of your dress.
It was when you finally rested your hand on his upper thigh, fingers grazing along the in-seam of his jeans that had Eren gripping your wrist.
“Baby.” His voice still husky in your ear. You smirked to yourself.
Bingo.
“What are you doing?” He asks. His thumb stroking the skin of your wrist. He doesn’t dislike what you’re doing. But why here? Why now?
You played innocent. Pretending to be completely unaware of the results of your actions.
It wasn’t rare that your hand would rest on Eren’s thigh while he was driving, or any other time he sat next to you so he let it slide for now. Putting his attention back to the screen in front after giving you another look.
He knew you were up to something.
After the movie ended, you stood up and stretched your arms and back. Letting out a little moan of satisfaction while keeping your eyes on Eren as you did so.
You didn’t miss the way he watched as the bottom of your dress lifted up around your thighs as you stretched, or his gaze drift up your chest as you pushed it out to stretch your back. A tiny smirk flitted across your face.
Inhaling deeply, Eren willed his eyes away from you. Determined not to fall for whatever tricks you were trying to pull on him. Yet.
At this point Eren was pissed. Not at you, though. Well maybe a little bit. He was pissed at how you weren’t even trying to hide the fact that you were teasing him anymore.
He instantly regretted his suggestion of taking you for ice cream after the movie ended.
The heat was near scorching and it didn’t help that it was midday. Even sitting under the umbrella shaded benches did little to soothe the heat; yet the weather was the last thing that bothered Eren.
It was the way you had your lips wrapped around his long pointer finger that had Eren’s head spinning a mile a minute. Gently sucking the melted ice cream off his finger as you kept you gazed heatedly up at him.
Eren’s other hand had such a tight grip on his ice cream cone that it cracked, allowing the ice cream inside it to seep out slowly and drip down his hand onto the wooden table in front of him.
Another suckle and your tongue running on the underside of his finger had Eren gasp and his groin twitch at the sensation.
It was a golden opportunity and you leapt at it with open arms. You saw the ice cream from his cone melting onto his fingers and didn’t hesitate for a second to take his hand in yours and suck his finger into your mouth.
The act was far from innocent and had Eren glancing to the side with a hot flush covering his cheeks, hoping nobody was watching your clearly suggestive actions.
You knew you almost won him over.
Eren was about to scold you lightly for acting out in public this way, but the words died on his tongue when you whispered out his name. Your voice slightly raspy, sending tingles down his back. His finger still on your lips and your breath heavy. You whispering out his name was the last push Eren needed to finally snap.
“Fuck.” Your eyes widened slightly at the near growl that left his throat. His hand, still sticky with ice cream and your saliva grabbed at yours and pulled you to your feet, almost dragging you to the nearest section of public toilets.
You paid no mind to Eren taking your own ice cream out of your hand and chucking it in the bin along with his own on the way. Your mind reeling with part excitement and part shock.
You were shocked because you and Eren had never done more than kissing in a public place before and you didn’t think that your playful ministrations all day would lead to this. However, you were quite smug at the outcome and your excitement at the current turn of events had your heart racing.
Before you knew it, you found yourself led into the women’s toilets.
Any protests you might have had about Eren just waltzing into the ladies without checking if it was safe first quickly disappeared as you watched him in front of you. You found his impatience of getting you into a cubicle quite exhilarating that had your arousal seeping onto your panties and your heat clench around nothing - luckily, all the other cubicles were empty anyway.
Once you were finally inside the cubicle, Eren shut the door loudly, locking it behind you as he pressed you against the door; his arousal pressing against your stomach as he met your lips in a searing kiss.
Eren groaned as you immediately reciprocated, not wasting a second.
“So you thought it was fun to tease me the whole fucking day, didn’t you?” He rasps in your ear after pulling away from the kiss; lips grazing against your skin and his hot breath ghosting down the side of your neck leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Eren.” you whimpered and he tutted in response.
“Where’s the confidence from earlier gone to, baby? I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already whimpering for me.” His voice nearing that of a growl; his fingers finding the hem of your dress, quickly pulling it over your head leaving you breathing heavily in your panties, nipples hardening as the cool air hit them.
You hissed as Eren immediately dived down to your breasts and sucking a nipple into his hot mouth, green eyes holding an intense gaze into your own as he did so.
You could feel Eren smirking against your breast when he slipped his hand that was still sticky from the ice-cream down your abdomen and into your panties, gathering your arousal on his fingers.
If your mind wasn’t this clouded by lust, maybe you would’ve felt a little embarrassed by how wet you were already. After all, you were waiting for this all day.
Eren let go of your nipple with a small audible pop and brought his now wet fingers up to his mouth. Your face growing increasingly hot and inner walls clenching around nothing as his intense gaze pierced into you as he sucked your juices into his mouth.
Your legs wobbled slightly as Eren let out a growl at the back of his throat. The taste of you paired with the aftertaste of ice-cream on his fingers made his head spin. Ice-cream was ruined for him now. He’ll never look at it the same anymore.
Having it this way better.
“Eren,” you whined, growing increasingly impatient, “please.”
A string of whispered curses left Eren as he fumbled with the belt of his jeans, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally pushed his jeans down to his ankles along with his briefs. Your panties followed suit and you quickly stepped out of them and pushed them to the side with your foot.
“I need you baby, so bad” Eren mumbles desperately against your lips. Slipping your hand down the front of his abdomen, feeling the muscles in his stomach contract at your touch.
He hissed when you wrapped your hand around his rock hard length and stroked him slightly before bringing his dick to your wet centre. Foreplay wasn’t even necessary at this point as you were already dripping for him and Eren was near losing his mind.
You bit down in Eren’s bottom lip as he entered you slowly, giving you a few moments to adjust to his girth before he started moving at a slow, yet steady pace, fingers now gripping harshly on his shoulders while your other hand rested in his hair which was becoming more and more untidy by the second as some strands started falling loose from its bun.
You clapped your hand down on your mouth when you let out a loud moan when Eren lifted your left leg up to penetrate you deeper. Your head lolling back against the cubicle door behind you.
“You always take me so well, baby, fuck” he rasped in your ear, moving faster now and his breath coming out in harsh pants, tickling the skin of your neck.
Unable to keep your eyes open at the onslaught of pleasure you allowed yourself to be overcome by the pure pleasure that only Eren could give to you.
You were getting closer and closer to your orgasm. Your walls clenching harshly around Eren and you knew he was close too when he let out a whine at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him causing him to thrust more erratically inside of you.
Just before the pleasure could rapture you completely, both of you stilled completely when you heard the door to the women’s bathroom open followed by the sound of footsteps getting closer until a cubicle near you opened and closed with a slight bang.
Eren’s dick was pulsing in you, so ready for his release that was quickly ebbing away. Your pussy still clenching around him causing him to mesh your lips together in order to silence his moans that were threatening to escape.
“Stop that” he whispered desperately, trying to keep his breathing as quiet as possible.
“I can’t help it,” you whispered back. The feeling of his pulsing dick inside you wasn’t helping either and you involuntarily rolled your hips forward only to be slammed back against the door firmly by Eren to stop your movements.
Eren brought one of his fingers down to your front and rolled little circles over your clit, smirking a little at the thought of getting back at you. But his smirk was quickly wiped from his face when your walls clenched even tighter around him and you moved bite into his neck to stifle your moans.
It was growing hotter in the little cubicle as you and Eren gazed at each other in pure desperation. Wanting nothing more to finish what you started. Listening intently as you heard the toilet nearby flush and the cubicle open followed by the sound of water running out of a tap.
“Jesus fuck, hurry up,” Eren groaned softly, his fingers gripping so hard on your thighs it was sure to leave bruises.
Once the footsteps started moving further away, Eren started moving his hips slowly, increasing his speed with each passing second.
At first you tried to grab onto Eren’s hips to stop his movements as whoever walked into the toilets hadn’t even left yet and he was already pounding into you.
As soon as the door to the toilets closed shut again, Eren let out a guttural moan that vibrated through his chest. Once you knew it was safe to do so, you didn’t hold back your noises.
This time around, Eren’s thrusts were even more erratic causing the door to bang consistently and the sound to echo throughout the room.
It didn’t take long for you to near your climax and as soon as Eren felt you were close, his finger returned to your clit and continued stroking it until your body seized, gripping his hair so tightly with one hand you wouldn’t be surprised if you pulled out some of his hair while the other clung to him, pulling him as close as you could.
Eren followed soon after you, riding out both of your highs and you moaned as you felt Eren spill his warmth in you as his dick continued to pulse with his orgasm.
After a few minutes of catching your breath, Eren slowly pulled out of you and carefully lowered your leg to the ground.
You were unable to gain balance as your legs were shaking too much and clung onto him so you wouldn’t fall.
If you weren’t so fucked out you would’ve sent Eren a glare at his breathy laugh.
“Need me to carry you to the car?” He asked smugly and you smacked your first weakly against his chest as he laughed again.
“That’s what you get for teasing me all fucking day, baby.”
#Eren Jaeger#Eren Jaeger x reader#Eren x reader#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#AOT#SNK#aot x reader#snk x reader#AOT fanfiction#snk fanfiction#eren fanfiction#eren scenarios#eren imagines#eren smut#aot smut#snk smut
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Part 8 of the wonderful! Au: the boys answer some questions! Up to you to decide if they actually clarify anything!
(also on AO3)
~*~
Martin: Hey everyone! I know what some of you are thinking right now: it's not Tuesday, why is this episode in my feed? I know significantly more of you are thinking: I don't consistently keep up with podcast releases, how much free time do you think I have, buddy? To answer your queries: this is a bonus episode! We're answering listener questions to clear the air and/or have fun. Also, I don't know, around 20 to 40 minutes a week, as that is the average amount of time per episode? Maybe during your commute? My husband's omnipotence has been gone for five years, we just have to guess at that sort of thing now.
Jon: For legal reasons, that last statement was a joke. In fact, to cover all of our bases, we do not guarantee that any of our responses are genuine.
Martin: Just because we say we'll answer things doesn't mean we'll answer truthfully. Though, honestly, I think we might make it more enjoyable if we do tell the truth. Like, I don't necessarily have a fun lie prepared for our first question from konspiracyking97: "What's their fuckin deal anyway?"
Jon: Is this referring to the oblique references we've made about being from a parallel reality and only ending up here as a consequence of ending one apocalypse and potentially starting another or the general premise of the show?
Martin: Oh, it's gotta be general premise, yeah?
Jon: In that case, I'm Jon, the other voice you're hearing is Martin, we're married, and we talk about things that are..nice? Good? Usually generally but occasionally rather specifically pleasant.
Martin: That pretty much covers it. It's not a complicated show. Uhh, next question comes from Shane: are either or both of you aliens? Nope!
Jon: Well..
Martin: No. We are 100% human people from Earth, we are under no definition extraterrestrial.
Jon: Eh..
Martin: Okay, first off, I know the tone of that 'eh' and "not fully human" is not synonymous with alien, so even if 100% is being a bit generous, we're still from the same planet as our listeners.
Jon:..
Jon: But. We sort of aren't though. Technically speaking.
Martin: No no no no no. I don't care if it's parallel, Earth is Earth is Earth, regardless of whatever nonsense metaphysics might be occurring.
Jon: So what you're saying is that if you got sucked through a portal and landed on an Earth where dinosaurs were still the predominant species, you wouldn't consider yourself to be an alien?
Martin: Nope!
Jon: I'm certain that they would consider you an alien. All of their mammals are probably shrew sized.
Martin: Sounds like a them problem.
Jon: Sounds like a-?! You know what, no, this will be an off the record debate, for now, I suppose I concede that the two Earths and our physiologies are similar enough that we might, maybe, not count as aliens.
Martin: Thank you. Anyway, our next question is from anonymous, and asks, "Is all of this an ARG?"
Jon: A whomst?
Martin: Alternate reality game. It's a method of storytelling that's interactive with audience, and usually has, I dunno, a certain suspension of disbelief to it where it pretends to be something actually happening in the real world until a dramatic reveal. A lot times it was used as a marketing gimmick, but others have done it just for fun. I can show you some examples after the show?
Jon: So it's in essence a more involved creepypasta?
Martin, delighted: Aw, babe, I'm never going to have a handle on what pop culture you are and aren't aware of, huh?
Jon: We were born within a year of each other, and I've told you that I was a deeply morbid teenager, you should probably be able to intuit some of things, love.
Martin: This coming from a man who has yet to see "It's a Wonderful Life", but has seen every film in the "Banjo Cannibals" franchise, including the Easter special. Jesus doesn't exist in the Banjo Cannibals universe, why does it have an Easter special?
Jon: The movies are rather shoddily translated from Russian, so I'm fairly certain the Easter component of that special was invented wholesale in the English version.
Martin: You say that like it answers more questions than it raises.
Jon: Yes, because it does. Oh, and to answer anonymous's question, no, this isn't an ARG. From my understanding of it, if it were, it'd be a poorly constructed one, as there's no real game element to any of this.
Martin: Hmm. Well, sometimes the game component is just trying to figure out what's going on with the story, or if there's any deeper content, and people are definitely doing that with this show.
Jon: That's not by design though. It's more a side effect of us having poor brain to mouth filters, I'd say.
Martin: Harsh, but fair. Oh, this next one is from Zac, no K, who asks, "Are you two actually even married?"
Jon, flat: We are, but it's under false names because this whole thing is an elaborate insurance scam.
Jon, incredulous: Yes, obviously, we're married. What did you hear in this podcast that would make you wonder otherwise, and how do we rectify it?
Martin: Clearly we need to up our quota for how "disgustingly in love" and "horrifically sappy" we are per episode. Which segues nicely into the next question from Gwen, "What's your favourite wonderful thing you've brought so far?" My answer: my husband. He's kind of my favourite in most things, you know?
Jon: Boooooo
Martin: Why, what's your favourite thing?
[Jon reluctantly sighs]
Jon, indulgent: being married.
Martin: A: serves you right for trying to pretend you're the less horrifically sappy and romantic one even though earlier today someone put a love note in the lunch they packed for me-
Jon:- Lies and slander! I have never, in my life, done that, even once.
Martin: Oh, sure, not even once. And you definitely don't reserve the lilac sticky notes specifically for my lunches because you know I like the colour.
Jon: I..I don't.. you're rather ruining my image here.
[Martin snorts]
Martin: Can't have the audience think that you are, on occasion, an incredibly doting husband-
Jon: -A title I would argue we both share-
Martin: - which is obviously why, even with it being your favourite thing you've brought, being married to me is just a small wonder-
Jon, audibly rolling his eyes: As I already explained-
[A Pause}
Jon: Actually, you're right-
Martin: Wait-
Jon:- I really should have brought it as a larger wonder-
Martin: Wait-
Jon: though I should warn you, I think I'd have far too much material for just one little segment-
Martin: No no no no no-
Jon:- In fact, I think I might have too much material for just one little episode-
Martin: Joo-oon-
Jon: I might have to do a whole series! Where would I even start? I mean I could talk about how every day I get to watch the early morning sun highlight your curls when I get up first, or hear you quietly humming and shuffling around the kitchen when you do, or I could talk about how the lunch notes only started in the first place as retaliation to the notes you would leave on the mirror for me to find, or how every time I get to see you at ease in a way that you aren't with anyone else, it takes my breath away, or I could talk about how cute I find the lines between your eyebrows that you only get when you're thinking something petty, but you know it's petty so you don't want to say anything-
Martin: Okay, okay, Christ, I give !up I surrender, and will cease my teasing on this particular topic.
Jon, probably making the :3 face: You don't have to stop. I mean, I could also discuss how very, very attractive I find your voice when it takes on a teasi-mmph!
[There's a pleased hum, then a pause.]
[The audio quality is slightly changed, as if the recording has been stopped and then started later]
Martin, giddy: Uh, heh, anyway, Eric asked what the least favourite thing we've brought was, and because of Jon's attempt to embarrass me live-
Jon, overlapping: It's definitely not live-
Martin:- on air, I'm gonna say it's my husband.
[Jon scoffs]
Jon : If the past few minutes are any sort of indication, I'm going to go ahead and saying that you are lying.
Martin, sighing contentedly: Maybe a bit, but how was I supposed to resist when your indigance gives you that adorable little nose scrunch? In reality, my least favourite thing was probably, um, mini golf? Which, I still don't think is inherently bad, definitely superior to regular golf, but when it's the only thing a next door two year old wants to do with you, the charm begins to wear off a bit.
Jon: Wow. A rather scathing review of a toddler.
Martin: Not so much a scathing review of a toddler as it's a scathing review of minigolf's inability to keep its appeal after the third time in the same week.
Jon: Mmm, the sound effects rather quickly go from part of the atmosphere to part of the irritation, don't they?
Martin: So what's your least favorite thing we've covered here?
Jon: Oh, love, I'm not going to pretend to have nearly enough memory of what we've covered so far to have a least favorite.
Martin: Really? Nothing that you regret or rescind?
Jon: Well, regret, certainly. It was one of the weeks where you went first, and your second item was mutual aid funds, and what they can do for marginalized communities, and I had to follow it with fucking Slapchop.
Martin, poorly suppressing laughter: In your defence, Slapchop, or whatever offbrand we have, is pretty useful, especially when either your scar or my arthritis is acting up.
Jon: I'm still not convinced you didn't somehow see my notes for the recording and decided you get revenge for the first year that we knew each other.
Martin, no longer suppressing his laughter: Yep, you got me! This marriage wasn't an act of insurance fraud, but it was a near decade long con to humiliate you on a podcast that about twenty people listen to. I'll draft up the divorce papers immediately, and then we can finally go our separate ways.
Jon: I'm glad you've at last admitted it. Such a weight off of my shoulders. Goodbye forever then.
Martin: Right.
Jon: Right.
[A beat.]
[There's a pfft from one of them, before both dissolve into giggles that lasts a good 30 seconds.]
Martin, slightly out of breath: I can't believe we're the kind of people that talk this much about speciality kitchen gadgets.
Jon: Sorry about that.
Martin: God, don't apologize. I'm, like, deliriously happy with our varying degrees of useful cooking ware filled life. If you had told 25 year old me that one day he'd be debating the merits of getting a tortilla press with his husband, he'd have wept, I tell you.
Jon: Funny, if you told 25 year old me the same thing, he would've said "You don't know the future,piss off" and then quietly have a bit of a panic at 3 am that night.
Martin: I bet you were insufferable in your mid-twenties.
Jon: First of all, who isn't, secondly, I was fresh out of Oxford, and third, I was insufferable in my late twenties, as you can attest to, and I'm insufferable now, as you can further attest to, so extrapolation would indicate that, yes, I was insufferable back then.
Martin: Probably a different kind of insufferable, though.
Jon: There are different kinds?
Martin: Of course! You used to be "prick boss" insufferable and now you're "smug in a way that I can't admit I find hot or it will go straight to your head" insufferable.
Jon, in the aforementioned smug tone: Oh, really?
Martin: See, see! Straight to your head.
Jon: Well straight is probably the wrong descriptor-
Martin: Oof, 4 out of 10 joke, babe.
Jon: That would be a far more convincing rating if you weren't grinning right now.
Martin: It's a genuine review, I'm just well known to be a sucker.
Jon: You and me both, darling.
Martin: Okay, if you're pulling out darling, you're clearly in too giddy of a mood to be focused on recording. Last question, from Jess, "You two mentioned meeting at work, but how did you actually end up together?" That's easy, Jon pulled me out of a hell dimension and then we went on the lam together to Scotland.
Jon: If that's not the way to tell a cute boy you like him, I don't know what is.
Martin: All right, that wraps up this bonus episode, and as the old saying goes, hiding from murderers in a cottage is more conducive to romance than suggesting you gouge out your eyes together.
Jon, cut off: Hey-!
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Aaaaand part 6 ideas - I think the timing works out and Starfall is coming. Lucien says he can’t come (a calculated lie), but Elain sends down the bond that she went to that shop along the sidra to wear under her dress. They manage to secure a private balcony. Smut ensues.
You know, I thought about doing a serial where like, Elain accidentally accepts the bond and her and Lucien hate fuck for a while before they get to know each other, but I guess we're doing this instead.
Time has no meaning in this ficlet, do not ask me about the timeline or seasons, they change based on a whim and my needs so anyway WELCOME TO COLD WEATHER AGAIN (I think? I'm unsure when Starfall actually is? And honestly, it doesn't matter).
This is, as per usual, NSFW, 18+ and unedited beyond me just glancing at it to make sure there were no red squiggles in word.
--
--
He hadn’t meant to be gone for so long. Spring had fallen to shit and what was supposed to be a two-week stay had morphed into months of trying to convince Tamlin to eat, to legislate, and enforce his border all while Tamlin used him as his personal punching bag. Lucien was exhausted and irritated when Feyre’s invitation for Starfall dropped in his lap.
No I don’t want to go to a party, he thought privately, quickly scrawling back a much politer response. What he wanted was a week of uninterrupted alone time with his mate in which he did every filthy thing he’d been fantasizing about while she begged him for more. Lucien could still taste her in his mouth, could still smell her in the air. She was a brand on his skin, a ghost trailing him everywhere he went. He wondered about her constantly. Was she thinking about him? Did she miss him? Want to see him?
Lucien hoped openly declining an opportunity to see Elain might spur her into reaching out to him in their game and admitting she not only wanted him, but she needed him, too. He was playing aloof, like always but she was just silent. He couldn’t pretend that didn’t disappoint him.
Feyre sent back her disappointment two days later and let the invitation open if he changed his mind. She swore up and down Cassian wanted to chat with him and perhaps the General did. Their friendship was an odd one but comforting and a little familiar. Of all of Rhysand’s inner circle, Lucien liked Cassian best.
He was walking to the stables to patrol Tamlin’s border when a vision slithered down the bond. Elain, standing in front of a mirror, wearing a gown that seemed to be made of pure starlight. Silver and low cut, with capped sleeves and a skin colored lining made it seem as though she only wore the glittering diamonds and nothing else. His mouth went dry at the sight. Had she meant to send it?
Yes. A note followed the image, appearing in the air before him.
Starfall?
That was all she’d written. She might have written pages and pages, for the effect that one word had. Lucien tugged his response back, a resounding yes, absolutely, if I have to crawl I will— and turned abruptly to let Tamlin know he was officially retiring from Spring, and to write if he needed any more assistance.
Back in Velaris, Lucien paid an obscenely large amount of money to secure one of the last private balconies in Velaris. It was far from where Rhysand and his ilk would watch, but still very much out in the open. The edge of the balcony, cut from smooth, gray stone, was thick enough he could hoist Elain up and fuck her brainless if he wanted to.
Lucien very, very much did.
The day before Starfall, Lucien sent Elain only the address and nothing else. There would be no polite teasing, no stolen glances. They would be together…maybe even talk and get to know each other outside of just kissing and touching. The thought of hearing her speak excited him more than anything else, though seeing her stripped of her dress was a very close second.
He dressed in a jacket of silver and trimmed in white to match the fitted white pants he’d worn. He’d neatly combed his hair and tied it off his face after debating for too long whether he ought to leave it down or not. He slipped on clean, black boots that hugged his calves, slipped a knife inside his boot just in case, and forewent wearing any other weaponry.
He’d just made it to the balcony he’d rented when the glass, double doors that led from the building they and others were borrowing, opened, and Elain stepped out. Lucien made no show of dropping to his knee, one hand pressed against his chest, jaw hanging open. He’d lost all rational ability to speak or stand when Elain, his goddess, stepped onto the balcony, a vision in silver stars.
Her cheeks darkened with what he hoped was pleasure, though she made a big show of rolling her eyes. “You’re dramatic,” she accused as he staggered back to his feet.
“Absurd. You’re beautiful,” he replied, caressing those same, heated cheeks. He suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of marring one inch of her body and wondered if perhaps they’d just have a nice, romantic evening with nothing else between them.
She walked to the balcony, illuminated beneath floating fae lights. Lucien stood beside her, resting one of his hands over her own, unable to resist. She smiled faintly at the touch and pressed her shoulder against his.
“I missed you,” she told him without looking up, her eyes still firmly focused on the city below. His heart pounded in his chest at the admission.
“Not half as much as I missed you,” he promised, squeezing her hand. A smile bloomed fully on her face, lighting her up like the sun across the sea and Lucien thought he was ruined entirely for anyone else, regardless of what happened between them.
She turned, suddenly, her sweet smile morphing into something wicked. His body instantly tightened as anticipating thrilled up his spine. What was she thinking? She ran her hands up his chest, dragging her eyes up with them until they were firmly focused on his lips. She didn’t need to ask him to kiss her. He’d happily spend the rest of his life attached at the mouth if she wanted.
That first, sweeping kiss wrecked all Lucien’s promises to himself. She tasted like citrus coated in honey and somehow like sunshine. He was frantic, unable to get enough and all at once, desperate for more. His tongue caressed her own, licking in time with the hips he was grinding into her beautiful gown.
Elain broke the kiss with a gasp, her fingers yanking on the laces of his pants. “Before everything starts,” she said, making quick work of them. He began hiking up her dress but Elain swatted his hands away.
“The first time you have me will be private,” she informed him, her brown eyes glittering with promise. “And somewhere nice.”
He started to ask what her plan was, then, but Elain dropped to her knees and Lucien’s head immediately emptied. The last remaining shred of rationality snarled at the sight of her kneeling when he thought it ought to have been him while the animal that typical slumbered in his chest roared with appreciation at the sight of his mate eye level with his cock.
“I borrowed one of Nesta’s dirtier books,” Elain informed him, her breath curling along the skin of his hard, twitching cock. “I don’t suppose this requires any amount of skill.”
Lucien took a shallow breath as her hand cupped the base of him. She ran her tongue up the broad side of his shaft and he reached for the railing behind him in an effort to keep himself steady.
She hummed softly to herself, pumping him once. She could have done only that and nothing else and he’d have come quickly, undone at just the sight of her. She glanced up at him, her lips moistened, her eyes mischievous.
“Will you beg, Lucien?” She asked.
“Would you like me to?” He choked in response. She smiled, lowered her mouth, and sucked just the tip of his erection into her mouth. Lucien concentrated all his effort on remaining utterly still despite his body’s urge to thrust into her mouth and fuck her throat. It was her first time, he reminded himself. He didn’t need to scare her.
“Yes,” she replied, withdrawing her pretty little lips to lick his head like a piece of candy. Lucien groaned loudly.
“Elain, please—”
His words choked into another groan of need as she took as much of him as she could into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed and her hand making up the difference. Her mouth was hot and wet and utterly intoxicating in its softness. Lucien was desperate and somehow building hotly towards release despite how little time and effort she’d put into the act of sucking him.
She hummed again, the noise vibrating along his skin and settling in his tightening sac. Saliva from her mouth pooled around her hand, making it easier for her glide up and down the length of him as she licked and sucked.
First time? His mind demanded, unable to believe she hadn’t done this before. Had it been so long since someone took him in their mouth that he’d forgotten? Was the act made better when it was his mate who sucked?
Shut the fuck up, the animal in his chest demanded of his wild, out of control thoughts. Lucien’s hips jerked a little as he built higher, fire racing through his blood.
“Elain,” he gasped, unsure what else to say. She quickened her pace and Lucien hung by a thread just long enough to offer a warning. “I’m going to come, Elain—”
She didn’t pull away, didn’t withdraw and a moment later Lucien exploded into a million pieces, yelling so loud he was sure Feyre heard him, wherever she was. He pumped hot into her mouth and Elain, the angel, took all of it without moving her mouth. She waited until he relaxed to withdraw, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You,” he gasped, pulling her to her feet so he could kiss her. “Next, you next—”
A shooting star streaked through the sky and Elain twisted in his arms, her swollen, red lips parted with delight. Lucien quickly pulled up his pants and retied them, swallowing against the aftershock of his release.
“Another day,” she replied, letting him pull her against him, her back resting against his chest, his arms wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head, aware of what she’d done.
She’d put him in a situation that forced him to see her again.
Did she not know Lucien wanted to see her all the time?
She wiggled a little, sighing sweetly, content in his arms.
He’d show her what he meant.
#elucien fic#elucien smut#elucien prompt#elucien#PART SEVEN#????????#do we want to see them do it or like....#are we all good
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Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)
✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader
✧ word count: 9.9k
✧ ao3 mirror
✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me
✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.
✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3
Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.
But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.
What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.
But he held out.
If only for you.
Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…
'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.
He did a lot of watching.
Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.
So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—
Yeah.
It was a lot.
But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?
If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.
He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.
Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.
Not at all.
But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—
What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.
And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.
Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.
It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.
Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.
If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.
And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.
In a completely platonic and not freaky way.
So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.
If only for that.
He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.
If only for that.
Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—
Yeah.
That was enough.
***
It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.
Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.
“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”
Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.
But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.
He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.
So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.
It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.
Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.
“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.
Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.
Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.
“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”
Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.
“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”
“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.
“You’re just figuring that out now?”
Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.
“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”
Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”
“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.
“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”
“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”
Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.
“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.
“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”
“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”
Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.
Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.
“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”
“Your gaming club thing?”
“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”
Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.
Needless to say, he’d refused every time.
It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.
They just weren’t his jam most of the time.
“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.
Still empty.
He sighed.
Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.
Wow.
Meta.
“Jin?”
The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.
“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.
He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.
Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.
“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.
He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.
Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.
“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.
Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.
Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.
It was harder to look.
Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.
Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—
But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?
Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.
You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.
He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.
Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.
It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.
Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.
Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.
It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.
He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.
Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.
Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.
But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.
And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.
And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.
Because it was you.
You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.
The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.
But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.
And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.
Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.
“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.
“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.
“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”
“You sure about that?”
Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.
Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.
“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”
“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.
But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).
“No, really. That would be weird, right?”
Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.
Yeah it was weird.
Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.
But he knew you.
Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.
And you were crying and he had to do something.
“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”
You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.
Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.
“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.
“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.
“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.
Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.
“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”
You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.
“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”
Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.
You were weird too.
For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.
Well.
No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.
Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.
It was almost as comforting as your smile.
“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.
You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”
And you were funny.
He was gonna fucking combust.
“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”
“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.
And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.
The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.
“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.
“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.
Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.
“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”
You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.
Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.
“Seriously?”
The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.
Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.
He hated this job but he needed it.
Were you worth the risk?
Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.
You were everything.
“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”
“Are you always this nice?”
Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.
“Not always…”
“Should I feel special then?”
If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.
“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.
He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.
“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”
“Oh, no you don’t actually—”
You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.
“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”
God you were fucking perfect.
“Can’t argue with that.”
***
Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.
Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.
The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.
Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.
The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.
The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.
On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”
The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.
So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.
— HEY IT’S JIN!
— from the library
— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps
— n e way….
— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good
Most perfect fucking human being to…
Oh my god thank you so much!!!—
Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—
Also send me your order—
so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—
Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—
Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.
Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.
The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.
He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.
Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.
When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.
Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.
“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”
“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.
“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”
He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.
“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”
Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.
“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”
Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”
“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.
“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”
His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.
How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?
Other people were such a mystery to him.
To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.
“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.
“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”
“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”
Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.
“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”
“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”
Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.
“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”
“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”
“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”
***
Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.
He was fine.
He was fine.
Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.
Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.
It was a little overwhelming to say the least.
His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.
But it was fine.
Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.
Like, really fucking easy.
It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.
After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.
“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”
“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”
He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.
Jin.exe has stopped working.
“...What?”
You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”
He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.
“You think I’m cute…?”
He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”
“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”
“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”
“So wait is this a date?”
Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!
“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”
“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.
It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.
Filled with potential.
Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.
It was you that struck the match.
“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”
Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.
Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.
When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’
It was exactly what he’d hoped.
You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.
It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies
But what if he did it wrong?
What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?
He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.
“You think too much for your own good.”
And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.
Should he lean down now?
Tilt left or right?
What if he clacked your teeth together?
What if—
Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.
His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.
He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.
Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.
Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.
Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”
“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.
“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”
For once Jin had nothing more to add.
And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.
***
“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.
Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.
He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.
The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.
His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.
“Jin, fuck please-”
You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.
“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.
He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.
Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.
He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.
“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.
“Are you fucking serious?”
He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.
In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—
Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.
Wanting him.
What a concept.
He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.
And for once, he finally had the words to do it.
After all, he’d had months to prepare.
It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.
“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.
“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”
You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.
“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”
“What?”
Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.
“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”
You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.
“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”
“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”
The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.
“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”
“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”
His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.
Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.
There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.
“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.
He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.
The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.
He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.
The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.
You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.
Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.
He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.
And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.
Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.
“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”
“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”
You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”
“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”
Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.
“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”
“Ha, yeah….”
A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.
It was such a rare commodity.
But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.
“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.
Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.
That you didn’t want him to leave.
“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.
“Good,” you sighed.
He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.
But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.
He didn’t need to now.
You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.
No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.
Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.
So there was no more need for sleep.
And no need for dreams.
#twice x reader#twice x you#jin bubaigawara x reader#bee writes#bnha fanfiction#college au#library!twice x student!reader#twice mha#bee.writes
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Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Four
Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2960
Warnings: Itsy bitsy amount of angst, bad language words, mentions of phone sex and masturbation
A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics
DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission
“James?”
You held your breath after you uttered the name into the phone’s speaker. Your heart galloped at the thought of actually speaking to him. You’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t imagined how his voice sounded. You pictured something deep and raspy but drawled and sweet.
In the last five days, you’d imagined many things about James. Not just the sound of his voice, but his laugh, too. Rich and soothing. And of his scent- distinctly his own or a fresh, citrusy cologne of bergamot and tangerines. You imagined his rough, calloused hands sliding over your skin in slow motion.
And how he kissed. You daydreamed about that, too. Often. You couldn’t count how many times you’d stared at his sorry excuse for a selfie. You found yourself drawn to it daily. It was only part of his face, but what you could see was ruggedly handsome. His lips looked soft and delectable. You pictured yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, deepening its color to blush pink.
A sharp sigh escaped through your nose as you waited for his reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard you the first time? “James?” you asked again. “Hello?”
No response.
You pulled the phone away from your ear to make sure you were still connected. The call-time counter ticked ominously second by second on the screen. You tucked the device back under your hair to find the call was still active.
Did he get cold feet and change his mind last minute? He hadn’t hung up yet, so you weren’t exactly sure why he was waiting. Maybe he was tongue-tied? Or hadn’t expected you to pick up?
“Did you butt-dial me, James?” you laughed, trying to dispel some of your anxiety.
You heard a muffled “ shit” and two beeps. You glanced at the phone’s screen again, and call ended flashed in bold white.
Ignoring the hang-up, you immediately re-dialed James. The line rang and rang. And rang.
You weren’t confident you were going to speak with James, the longer the rings continued. He wasn’t ready to talk to you yet, and that was okay. It had only been five days.
Five days wasn’t long enough to build a bond over stupid Would You Rather? questions or form a simmering crush on a stranger that made your stomach flip whenever he sent you a funny cat meme. Nope. Five days was much too short of time for anything.
A generic voicemail greeting clicked over and rudely beeped at you. You took a deep breath and quickly thought of a reason to be calling someone who didn’t want to talk. “Hey, James. Just calling you back. It’s (Y/N), by the way. I’m not sure if you meant to call the first time or if sneaky ninjas have accosted you and somehow did a crazy pocket dial. Y’know, because of the whole military-trained assassin athlete mchottie thing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And no pressure! If you’re not comfortable talking on the phone, I completely understand. I’m sweating bullets just talking to your voicemail box.” You chuckled nervously. You were starting to babble.
“Anyway,” you continued. “I hope you’re well. And don’t leave me hangin’. I really wanna know if you’d rather sneeze every hour or burp when you saw a pretty girl.” You laughed again. “Goodbye, James.”
You mashed the end call button and face-planted into one of the throw pillows on your couch. You groaned loudly into the fabric, chastising yourself in your head. If he didn’t want to talk before, he most definitely wouldn’t want to now. You shook your head in disbelief. Sneaky ninjas, seriously? What. The. Fuck?
Hours later, while in the middle of a Say Yes to the Dress marathon (dammit Robyn!) and a self-induced diabetic coma of ice cream and chips, your phone vibrated. You swat at it on the coffee table with a foot, only to realize you lack the limberness or the dexterity in your toes to retrieve the phone. As a result, it tumbled to the ground as you groaned in displeasure. Cursing your luck, you bent forward to pick it up. Awakening the phone’s black screen, a text popped into view.
James Sorry
Your heart lurched for a moment. With every second that had passed since you’d left your voicemail for James, the least likely you’d felt he’d call back or even respond. Hence the pity party with Ben & Jerry and Cool Ranch Doritos.
James My so-called “friends” grabbed my phone from me and led to accidentally calling you.
Ahh, the old “invade-your-friend’s-privacy” maneuver, you thought, shaking your head.
James I didn’t want to hang up on you, but I’m not quite ready to talk yet. I like what we have.
Your heart flopped. You liked what you had, too, but a small part of you- a dumb part- wanted just a little more.
Shaking off the feeling of longing churning your insides, you thumbed over the screen to reply.
You No worries, James. We can go at whatever speed you like.
It was weird to have the guy, for once, want to take things slow. Usually, it was always you pumping the brakes in the relationship. Was this even a relationship, though? Were all the texting and personal questions leading somewhere? Or were you bound to end up friends with an interesting story to tell your other friends?
Not allowing your negative thoughts to curtail the joy of finally texting James again, you quickly punched out:
You I’m just glad you’re okay and not being held for ransom somewhere.
James It would take a whole horde of ninjas to take me down.
You giggled at the confidence contained in this one text, but talking to a girl on the phone threw him for a loop. We are definitely back in junior high, you thought.
You You sound awfully confident for a man who wouldn’t talk to a friend on the phone.
James You don’t want to talk to me.
You pinched your eyebrows together in frustration to form a crease between them. Was he serious?
You Sure, I do. I have a bet going with myself on how your voice sounds. Is it deep and masculine or high-pitched like you sucked in helium?
James Which are you betting on?
You pulled your bottom lip in by your teeth, biting softly. You smirked as you thought of the two options. The former would be nice, but the latter would be pretty damn funny.
You I mean, deep and masculine is very desirable. Listening to the low timbre of a man’s voice is very relaxing for me. But, considering the ridiculous “selfie” you sent me, I’m placing my money on high-pitched.
James What was wrong with my selfie?!
Somehow, you knew that would get him worked up.
You Well, for starters: I can only see, like, part of your face! Did a blind person teach you how to take them??
You And secondly, there clearly wasn’t enough “Blue Steel.” With cheekbones and pouty lips like yours and a chiseled jaw, I’d be blue-steeling the shit out of all my selfies!
A wave of remorse washed over you once you hit send. Had you really compared him to Zoolander? Not only had you objectified him by mentioning how aesthetically pleasing he was (let’s face it- he’s really, really, really ridiculously good looking), but you may have criticized him for his terrible selfie abilities. At that moment, as you waited for the inevitable “fuck off” text to come through, you wished for a giant sinkhole to appear under your apartment and swallow you whole. What were you thinking?
James First off, I’m a selfie amateur. My past line of work limited my contact and/or exposure to the outside world. I didn’t learn what a selfie even was until recently. Remember, I’m also a man of mystery. I’m trying to keep up appearances and can’t reveal too much.
James What is “Blue Steel”? I’m not very pop-culture savvy unless it happened before 1944.
James Did you just call me pretty??
Your cheeks flushed with the heat of a thousand suns. He called you out as you expected him to do.
You Uh...
You Are we gonna talk about the fact you said you didn’t know about pop culture after 1944?? You are a grandpa!
James Nice try with the subject change! Admit it- you think I’m pretty.
You rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be the thing he focused on out of the whole conversation.
You I have no idea what you’re talking about.
If all else fails--deny, deny, deny.
James Right. Sure about that, doll?
Your pulse spiked.
You never did like pet names before you met James, but doll had a goo-ing effect on you for some reason. Everything seemed to turn to mush whenever he mentioned the word.
You Absolutely. I have no reason to believe that if you weren’t a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie, you’d be a male model. None what-so-ever.
James Uh-huh. I’m going to pretend that you aren’t lying through your teeth and getting back to our scintillating game of Would You Rather?
James I’d burp every time I saw a pretty dame, by the way. I wouldn’t want to take my chances with sneezing in my sleep. Would you rather eat only fruits or vegetables for one year?
Several nights after the voicemail incident, you were sitting in Penelope with Robyn after work. She wanted to meet up to decide which centerpieces worked best for the reception. Scattered across the table were three samples she and Kevin had narrowed it down to. With your thumb, while playing with a corner of the hand-drawn example closest to you, a sigh escaped your nose.
Your sister’s talent mesmerized you. Each storyboard showed the intricate detail of the flowers and candles themselves and what the tables would look like next to each other with every centerpiece. You were in awe.
“These are so good, Robbie! They must have taken forever to put together,” you said, admiring a different sample on the table.
“Nah,” she replied, brushing the compliment aside. “Just an afternoon’s time last week.”
“Well, shit. I hope they’re paying you the big bucks at work.”
She quirked an eyebrow devilishly as she reached for her drink. “You know it,” she jested before taking a sip.
You laughed at her cheekiness. Robyn had always been a go-getter. One of the many attributes you loved about her. Never took no for an answer.
“Soooo,” she drawled as she set her glass down. “How have you been?”
You looked up swiftly, eyeing her suspiciously before returning your gaze to the storyboard in your hands. “I’m still alive if that’s what you’re asking.” You set the drawing down to take a drink from your glass. “Haven’t been murdered yet, but the night is still young.”
Robyn rolled her eyes at your petulance. “You know I worry about you. Are you still texting James?”
You smiled sweetly. “Each day that goes by, you act more and more like Mom. You know that?”
Robyn scoffed. “I do not!”
She could deny it all she wanted, but Robyn was turning into the spitting image of your mother. You laughed again. “You do too. Even down to the eye roll.”
She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for you to answer her question.
Two could play this game.
You wiped the corner of your mouth with your napkin unhurriedly. “If you must know, yes, James and I are still texting.”
“Has he sent any dick pics or asked for nudes?” Robyn asked earnestly.
“Yup. We engage in wildly pornographic phone sex every night.”
Robyn glanced around the restaurant with eyes wide as saucers, making sure none of the other patrons heard you. “(Y/N), I’m serious! Has he propositioned you?”
You huffed a small laugh. “Nope,” you admitted. “In fact, he’s the one that wants to take things slow. He accidentally called me the other day and hung up from jitters.” Robyn didn’t need to know the full truth.
“The jitters?” Robyn queried.
“Yeah. I even called him back, but he let it go to voicemail.”
“Then, he must be weird or ugly.”
You grimaced at her assumption. “Ew, Robbie. Don’t be gross,” you chastised. “He’s the opposite of ugly. I might even go as far as to call him handsome.”
“How? You don’t know what he looks like,” Robyn questioned.
You took a quick sip of your drink, holding up a finger. “Au, contraire mon frère. He sent me a selfie in the very beginning.”
Robyn looked at you, perplexed. “You know you just called me your brother, right?”
You waved a hand at her to dismiss her accusation. “Ma soeur just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” You pulled your phone out to offer proof.
“You can barely see his face!” she exclaimed. “What if he’s horribly disfigured on the other side? Or missing an arm?”
You shrugged. “Then, he’s missing an arm.” You got a distant look in your eyes as you recalled the last ten days of texting with James. “He’s different, Robbie. He’s smart and funny and caring. Polite. It feels like he has an old soul. He calls me doll for chrissakes!”
“Are you sure he isn’t some crusty, old man?” Robyn gagged at the thought.
“No, I don’t,” you chuckled in response. The faraway look returned after a moment. “To me, he’s just James.”
Realization dawned on Robyn’s face, lighting her up like a light bulb. “Oh, my god. You like him.”
“Well, yeah,” you acknowledged, “he’s my friend.”
“No. You like him like him.”
Your face reddened quickly with the awareness of your feelings. They weren’t real, were they? Shaking your head, you replied, ”Nothing will happen, Robbie. It’s just a crush.”
Skeptically, she agreed, “Uh-huh.”
“What?”
“I believe that as much as I welcome a cold sore on my wedding day.” She scrunched her nose at the thought of a gross, red blemish on her face for her big day.
“Fine,” you acquiesced. “If I fall head over heels, madly in love with James by your wedding day, I’ll owe you a hundred bucks.”
Robyn raised a sculpted brow in interest. “I’m listening.”
“One hundred dollars. End of negotiation,” you stated. “I don’t have a spare hundred bucks, so it will be a motivator not to fall for James. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”
She smiled smugly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”
“Will you stop saying that?” you said, throwing a piece of lettuce at her face. “You definitely sound like Mom.”
Robyn huffed in annoyance, back-handing your shoulder softly. “Shuddup! I do not!”
You chortled heartily at the mini tantrum she was throwing about becoming Mom. You’d say anything at this point to get her to forget about you and James.
In all honesty, there was no you and James. Not really. You were friends, but could you move past that?
He was hiding something.
Something big.
And it wasn’t part of the whole “man of mystery” persona, either. James was holding back.
He had a hard time giving up anything personal to you that went beyond his likes and dislikes, which led you to believe he had found it difficult to trust.
It angered you deeply without really knowing why. Something in his past had sparked the inability. You only wish you knew what.
Deep down, you could really see yourself falling for James, and that scared you to death.
Breaking you from your reverie, Robyn piped up, “You know, James is probably jerking off to your voicemail.”
“Oh, absolutely!” you retorted, both of you dissolving into a giggling fit.
After leaving Robyn with a clear choice for centerpieces, you made your way back home. After a fifty-minute subway ride, you popped into the corner bodega for some essentials for the coming week.
Sauntering up the stairs to your third-floor walk-up, you steadied your armful of groceries with each step. It had been a long week, and now with the revelation of how you felt about James clouding your mind, a glass of wine, ice cream, and a bubble bath sounded good right about now.
You could barely see over the bags and juggled them precariously. As you stepped onto your floor, you recognized the voice of your next-door neighbor down the hall. He was talking with someone, but you couldn’t tell with whom or what about.
Blindly, you called out, “Hey, Peter? Can you be a lifesaver and help a neighbor out?” You heard the scuffle of footsteps over tile rush toward you.
Sighing in relief, you relinquished two bags to the arms reaching out. “Thanks, Pete! You’re a pe-”
You stopped mid-sentence when your view was finally cleared. Your sixteen-year-old neighbor wasn’t standing before you but a tall man with chestnut hair tied in a knot. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes widened to take in the figure’s full breadth holding your groceries.
Your eyes flicked to Peter as everything came back to focus. He was adjusting your other two bags in his arms.
“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Mr. Barnes from my Stark internship. He’s a friend. He was helping me with some history homework,” Peter explained, gesturing to the hulking man standing outside your apartment door.
“Peter,” you admonished, “how many times-” Last names weren’t meant to be spoken by friends slash neighbors.
Peter winced. “Right! Sorry, (Y/N)!” he apologized. “This is Bucky.”
Recognition crossed your face at the name. Smiling, you stuck out your hand in front of you. “Bucky Barnes, it’s nice to meet you.”
Bucky shifted one of your bags in his arms to reach out his hand. He smiled softly, “ Li-likewise.”
Chapter Three | Chapter Five
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#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health#dtibfyh#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fanfiction#bucky fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic
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Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Shuu Maniac [Prologue]
ー The scene starts in the shopping district
Yui: ( ...This place has not changed at all. Although I suppose that only makes sense given we weren’t away for that long. )
( There don’t seem to be any rumors about wolves or such either. )
Shuu: Oi. Keep walking.
Yui: Ah, right.
( Somehow the roles are reversed for once... )
Shuu: ...
Yui: ...? What’s wrong?
Shuu: You just thought ‘I don’t want you to be the one telling me that’, didn’t you?
Yui: I-I didn’t!
Shuu: Heh...Not that it’d matter. Let’s go.
Yui: ( ...Thank god. Seems like Shuu-san is back to being his usual self too. )
ー Shuu starts walking away
Yui: ( ...Huh? )
Uhm, Shuu-san? Are we dropping by somewhere on the way home?
( He’s going into the wrong direction. I wonder where he’s headed? )
Shuu: You’ll find out if you follow me.
Yui: ...?
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to the outside of the Mukami manor
Yui: ( This is... )
Shuu: Let’s go inside.
Yui: Eh!? Shuu-san...!
ー They enter the manor
*Creaaaak*
*Thud*
Shuu: ...Nobody’s around.
Yui: Shuu-san, this is the Mukami’s residence...Right?
Shuu: Yeah.
Yui: Are you sure this is fine?
Shuu: Entering this place uninvited, you mean? I don’t see the problem. This place technically belongs to the Old Man after all.
I assume the Mukami’s fled to the Demon World in fear of the Wolves as well. We’re lucky it’s currently empty. (1)
Yui: ...
Shuu: Don’t worry.
Unlike at the Demon World, the lunar eclipse has come to an end already here. Its effects on us species have faded as well so rest assured.
We’re borrowing this manor just in case. The Sakamaki manor is being sniffed out by those wolves after all.
Yui: ( Shuu-san actually thought things through. )
( He makes a valid point...I might have gotten worried for nothing. )
Shuu: Hm...So this is what this house looks like.
Even though we’re all Vampires, our lives are so different. It feels odd.
Yui: ( The atmosphere is most definitely different from the Sakamaki’s place. How should I put it? You could say the mood is more light-hearted...Ah. )
ー She walks over to the wall
Yui: ( It’s a photograph of the four Mukami brothers...! )
( They really are close. It looks like a family picture... )
Shuu-san, look at thiー Wait, huh? Shuu-san?
( He vanished into thin air...Where could he have gone? )
ー The scene shifts to the kitchen
Shuu: ...
Yui: Ah, there he is. Shuu-san, so this is where you’ve been.
( I wonder what he’s doing, staring at the shelf with silverware? ...Ah. )
They’ve got color-coded silverware. Since there’s four kinds in total, I suppose they all got matching ones?
Shuu: ...They’re matching as brothers?
Yui: Looks like it. They really are close-knit...
Shuu: Is this what you’d call...’a family’?
Yui: Eh?
Shuu: Taking pictures while smiling or using matching plates and cutlery...Those are things I can’t even fathom happening over at our place.
Yui: ( I can’t imagine the Sakamaki’s doing that either... )
Shuu: I’ve always felt disconnected from the concept of ‘a family’.
Yui: That’s not true. You have plenty of brothers, don’t you?
Shuu: Too many. Besides...With the Old Man being the way he is, you can hardly call us an ideal family.
I won’t deny that I’ve always been surrounded by other people for as long as I can remember but...I’m a little reluctant whether or not I can call them ‘family’.
Just having someone there by your side doesn’t necessarily make you feel fulfilled after all.
Yui: ( Shuu-san... )
( Perhaps he actually often felt lonely? )
( Even if he was always surrounded by others, they only stuck to his side because he is the eldest son of the family...So he might have actually been ‘alone’ this whole time. )
Shuu: ...How about your place?
Yui: My home?
( It’s rare for him to ask about me. )
Shuu: I don’t understand very well, but as a human, you can probably grasp the concept of a family very well, no?
Yui: I wonder...My family might be a little different from the average household as well.
Shuu: Is that so?
Yui: I was raised by a single father after all. Father is my only family.
Therefore, I don’t think I can confidently say ‘this is a family’. However...
I am certain that a close-knit family like the Mukami’s is what an ideal family should be like!
Shuu: Ideal, huh...? Do you feel envious of them?
Yui: Just a little. Me and Father were close too but sometimes I did feel lonely by the lack of any other family members as well.
Shuu: You are actually capable of feeling lonely too? I had no idea.
...No, I suppose I never attempted to see it. I figured there was no point.
Even though we’ve spent so much time together...
Yui: Shuu-san?
Shuu: ...Wanna try becoming a family?
Yui: Eh...!?
Shuu: As fellow strangers to the concept. Well, we’re just gonna play pretend, of course.
Yui: Ah, play pretend...
( He startled me...Because he suddenly dropped the word ‘family’... )
Shuu: It would be best to try it out before we actually do become one, right?
Yui: ...!
( When he suddenly says these kinds of things, it’s bad for my heart... (2) )
( ...But, if it’s with Shuu-san. )
( Exactly because we’ve both experienced loneliness before...It might be nice to try and make our own ideal family here. )
( It’s just the two of us after all. Even if we’re just pretending...As long as I’m with the person I love. )
Then, can I make just one request?
Shuu: What? Tell me.
Yui: I want plates and cups. Of course, matching ones. Is that okay?
Shuu: ...I don’t see why not?
Yui: Also let’s take a picture together too...What else?
Shuu: Sleep in the same bed, for example?
Yui: ...Can we?
Shuu: ...You’re weird today.
Yui: I mean...It’s a normal thing for family to do.
Let’s have our meals together too. It might not be bad to cook together every once in a while as well.
Shuu: ...
Yui: No?
Shuu: Oh well, why not? Even though it’s a drag. That’s what family does, no?
You can do as you wish. Whatever you desire, I do too.
Yui: Fufu, that sounds very family-like too. My family’s happiness is my happiness after all.
Shuu: I see. In that caseーー
ー Shuu moves closer
*Rustle*
Yui: ...!
Shuu: If I do something that makes me happy, it’ll please you too, no?
...Look my way.
Yui: ( I wonder if he’ll suck my blood...? )
Shuu: ...Nn...
*Smooch*
Yui: ( ...A kiss instead of sucking my blood...? )
Shuu: ...Somebody seems disappointed.
Yui: I’m not disappointed or anythi...
Shuu: Just be honest. You were looking forward to having your blood sucked, didn’t you?
That’s why this doesn’t satisfy you...Nn...
*Smooch*
Shuu: ...So, how do you truly feel?
Yui: ...I don’t feel dissatisfied...
When it’s you...I feel happy no matter what.
Shuu: ...Hah, you really are a natural at flipping my switch, aren’t you?
I was going to leave it at just a kiss, but I’ve changed my mind.
Show me your neck. I’ll live up to those expectations...and suck your blood.
Nn...!
ー Shuu bites her
Shuu: Nn, nn...Phew...
Yui: ...
Shuu: Hah...You’re making a great expression right now.
From here on out...I’ll please you in tons of ways.
My family’s happiness is my happiness, was it? ...Yui.
Nn...
*SCENE SHIFTS*
ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall of the Sakamaki castle
Reiji: ...
Kanato: You’re still here, Reiji?
Why not give up already? They’re not coming back anyway.
Laito: Well, leaving Shuu aside, I do think losing Bitch-chan as well was a miscalculation on our part~
Reiji: My thoughts exactly. Why did she decide to chase after Shuu?
Shuu is to blame as well. We are being prompted to proceed with the preparations of the evening gala, yet, that good-for-nothing...
Now that it’s come to this, I shall take command and make the necessary prepaーー...
Laito: Speaking of which, where is Subaru-kun? I know that Ayato-kun can’t move just yet.
Kanato: He has isolated himself per usual. I assume he’s sulking because Yui-san is no longer around?
ー Subaru walks up to them
Subaru: ...Fuck off! Sulking, me!?
Laito: You’re so quick to react, Subaru-kun~ You must be dying from loneliness now that Bitch-chan’s gone, huh?
Subaru: Like I said, who are you callin’ lonely!? Imma fuckin’ end you!?
Reiji: Haah...Keep quiet, you lot!
...I suppose we have no other choice. We shall wait just a tad bit longer.
However, my patience is running thin. ...Shuu.
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
Translation notes
(1) 助かる or ‘tasukaru’ literally means ‘to save’ or ‘to rescue’. However, the term ‘助かった’ or ‘sentence + が助かった’ is used to express relief or even gratitude towards a certain person or situation. In this case, the Mukami manor being empty works in favor of Shuu’s plan to hide there while the Wolves are possibly trailing them.
(2) Technically Yui says she is ‘troubled’ by Shuu-san who will suddenly say those kinds of things.
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<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->
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Love Me For A Few Minutes
Bucky x Reader
Oneshot
Summary: As life seems to be falling apart, you ask Bucky to love you, even just for a few minutes.
Word Count: 1094
Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, penetrative sex, public sex.
A/N: Its been raining all day. I wanted to go stand in it but had to work all day. Anyway, the mind wanders as you can see. As always, please be safe when having intercourse Lovelies. (This has not been proofread).
Oneshot Masterlist Series Masterlist
You stand. Arms outstretched and head tilted to the sky. The rain pours out of the sky in fat droplets as you feel them pelt and slide down your skin. Your clothes stick to your body, hugging you tight and you smile.
You smile to the heavens as you take this moment to be nothing. You are nothing but an object standing in the way between the rain and its beloved: The ground.
“What are you doing?!”, Bucky roars over the torrential rain bathing everything in water.
You ignore him as you let the rain wash away everything, just for a few peaceful seconds of blissful nothing. You have no worries. You have no fears. You have nothing but this moment between you and the rain.
You come back to reality as you feel Bucky gripping your shoulders shaking you until you open your eyes. You watch the rain race down his face as his hair is plastered to his skin.
He shouts to be heard over the noise, “what are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death!”.
You shake your head at him because you cannot find the words to express anything these days. There are no words for the loss, the grief and also the love.
Bucky shakes you again to try and get you to focus but all you can seem to care about are his lips and the way they move as water drips from their plumpness, “I know you’ve been going through a tough time lately, with the break up, losing your friend and the mission going wrong but you have to remember to look after yourself.”
You watch his lips form words but you don’t hear him as you tune back into the roaring of the rain and it’s like listening to the screaming of the blood in your veins when you can’t hear anything else and before you know it your lips crash into Bucky’s like a meteor to Earth.
You part before he has the chance to kiss you back as you bring your mouth close to his ear. Wobbling on your tip toes in the pouring rain you whisper, “I love you Bucky. That’s why I broke it off with K. I love you and that’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the here and now after everything that’s happened. I know you may not love me back but please pretend. Pretend for a few moments like you do and please, please just love me for a few minutes.”
You kiss along his jaw until your lips find his again and he opens his mouth with no hesitation, letting your tongues get acquainted as Bucky lifts you up. Your legs hug his waist naturally as he walks until your back hits a tree. The sound of the rain over head having an echoing effect from the shelter of the leaves above.
Bucky kisses down until he’s sucking on your neck and you’re pulling at his shirt to lift over his head which he obliges. You follow with your own before Bucky goes back to kissing fire from your neck and down your chest as your fingers tangle in his hair.
“Bucky”, you whisper his name as your head tilts back against the rough bark of the tree and his hands squeeze your ass cheeks.
He sets you down quickly to unbuckle his belt and lower his combat trousers and you rush to do the same as he picks you back up with an animalistic growl. Your back hits the tree again as he lines himself up with your entrance. He snaps forward into you until you’re both pelvis to pelvis.
Bucky swallows your moans with his mouth as he lets you adjust for only a few seconds. His fingers grip your flesh so hard you can feel the bruises forming but you don’t care as Bucky starts a punishing pace. His cock slamming into your pussy so hard you can feel the bark cutting into your back.
You dig your nails into his back, silently begging for more. More pain. More pleasure. More love.
Bucky snaps forward and uses his pelvis and metal arm to hold you in place against the tree, bringing his flesh hand between you. He finds your clit and you hiss at the contact with the sensitive nub.
“I won’t be moving another inch until you cum around my cock, Doll.”
And with that his finger circles around, around, around until you’re a moaning mess trying to wiggle on his cock to create more friction. He flicks your clit a few times before circling faster, and you bite into his shoulder to convey the intensity building in your pussy.
He moans with you and your pussy starts to contract around him in anticipation of the approaching orgasm and so his fingers work faster and faster.
“Cum for me Doll, fucking cum for me,” he growls the words out and the rawness of his need for you along with his fast fingers has you releasing a moan so loud that the torrential rain is the only reason no one else heard it but for the two of you.
Bucky jack hammers into you pussy as you still convulse around him, clinging to him for dear life as he extends your orgasm.
You can hear yourself whispering his name like a prayer as he continues to pound your pussy. In between your whispers you kiss and suck on his neck and just as his hips lose their steady rhythm you bite down into the crook where neck meets shoulder. You feel him cum inside you and your pussy pulses at the feeling as if it too cannot get enough of the man in front of you.
Bucky stays inside you for a time as he drops his head to your shoulder. He turns his head into the crook of your neck to breathe you in as you run your hands up and down his bear back with some of the rain that escapes and drips from the leaves.
When Bucky finally picks his head up from your shoulder and looks into your eyes, the rain stops. The silence only broken up by birds and the occasionally dripping. You both smile at each other in the silence and you’re grateful for the rain to have stopped when it did, because it gave space for Bucky’s next words to be as clear as the sky now opening up.
“I love you too, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#bucky fandom#bucky fic#bucky x y/n#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky oneshot#marvel#marvel fanfic
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Slow Show
Post Hogwarts Dramione One Shot. Rated M for explicit content.
"Draco slowly dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder while pulling the strap just a little farther down her arm. He could feel the goosebumps rise under his lips."
AO3
Fanfiction.net
Wattpad
Slow Show
Draco leaned back on the bed as Hermione pulled one of the diamond earrings out of her ear, dropping it carefully into a large jewelry box on the vanity where she sat in front of a silver mirror. She started on the other one and he curled his arm behind his head, watching her remove the heavy stones from her soft body.
"It was a beautiful ceremony," she said, continuing the conversation they had struck up after leaving the reception much later than he had planned to. He had to practically drag her from the woodland clearing the happy couple had hosted their wedding in.
Hermione had argued that since he was the best man and she was one of the bridesmaids, they couldn't just run off without seeing the reception completed. He pled his case that he couldn't stand here and look at her in that dress for hours without hauling her off into the twilight woods and having his way with her. She retorted with a twisting smile and told him to "Be good, Draco," to which he replied, "You know I am."
He relented eventually, seeing how happy she was celebrating her friend's nuptials and sipped on some shimmering purple punch that was surprisingly strong as he watched the dusk light up the gold in her braided curls. Britain's wizarding elite had gathered, draped in their fine silks and showing off their family heirlooms along with a number of the war heroes still highly celebrated even all these years later.
It had been the event of the season and as happy as he was for his friend, all Draco wanted to do from the minute Hermione had slipped on her midnight blue gown adorned with golden stars was to peel it off her body and slide himself into it. The reception had been trying, to say the least.
But at least he got to spend a good amount of time spinning her around the charmed forest dance floor, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and watching her blush and squirm against him.
Hermione stood up and opened the wardrobe before pulling at the straps of her celestial gown.
Draco jumped up from the bed, landing gracefully on his feet and in two long strides stopped behind her, placing his hands over hers and stopping the straps just as they reached the curve of her shoulders.
"Allow me," he said in a soft voice. Hermione paused and Draco glanced up at the mirror in front of them to see a small smile beginning to form on her lips. Her hands slowly fell from under his to rest at her sides and her warm brown eyes rested on the reflection on his silver ones in the mirror as Draco slowly dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder while pulling the strap just a little farther down her arm.
He could feel the goosebumps rise under his lips.
His long fingers gently pulled at the straps until they were hanging down by her elbows and the gown was making a valiant effort to stay on her body. Hermione took a deep breath and Draco trailed his fingers back up, over her skin, and to the nape of her neck where her necklace still hung.
"You were saying something?" he drawled, pretending he didn't notice the effect he was having on her.
"Yes," Hermione breathed out and blinked a few times. "Wasn't Luna beautiful? And Theo… I've never seen him that-" she sucked in a quick breath as Draco started on the zipper down her back, drawing out its journey down to the small of her back. "Well… you saw him tonight."
"Won't forget it either." He rolled his eyes and reached back up to start pulling the pins out of her hair as Hermione held the dress to her chest, keeping it in place. Not for long, my love. Draco smirked to himself then added, "To call that dancing is a crime against wizard kind."
Theo had met Luna a few years ago while Draco and Hermione were still dating. He had told Draco how he thought the dreamy blonde was cute after they had all gone out for drinks a few times, but Draco hadn't realized that the offhand comments were actually a deeper attraction growing in his friend. Six months ago he had asked her out and three months later they were engaged. Hermione had been thrilled, knowing the trouble Theo had with his family after the war and Luna had brought joy back into his life.
As soon as Hermione had seen them together, her cinnamon brown eyes had sparked and her chest filled with a deep breath. She clasped her hands together in front of her as Draco chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he felt the excitement coming off of her in waves.
He had to admit; he hadn't seen Theo laugh like that or… even smile that much, not until he was with Luna. It was nice. Theo had never fully recovered from losing his father in the war and Draco had spent many long hours talking with him, about memories, about Quidditch, or about anything Theo needed. He was glad to see his friend find some peace with the woman he loved. Salazar knew Draco had found his with Hermione.
And Theo doted on Luna, indulging in all her whims and fancies. Following her around with eyes almost as large as Luna's and sweeping her into his arms just to kiss her for no good reason other than he was madly in love. Luna always laughed and smiled, touching his face gently and whispering so low no one but her now husband could hear, bringing a silly smile to Theo's normally sullen face.
Theo had carried his bride to a carriage pulled by some strange creatures that looked a bit like oversized oranges with wings and beaks and took to the sky, heading off on their honeymoon in Thailand to explore the jungles and look for something that Draco didn't even bother to try and pronounce and Hermione vehemently argued wasn't real. But she had still kissed Luna on the cheek, hugging her tightly and wishing her well before Theo scooped her up.
As soon as the carriage had left the ground, Draco was pulling Hermione through the crowd. Intent on getting his wife home where he could fulfill the carnal promises he made her on the dance floor.
"I thought it was sweet. And anyways Luna always did dance to the beat of her own drummer. Theo was just… trying to learn her steps," she giggled a little, eyes shining in the silver glass as he finished pulling the braids from her hair and let them tumble down her bare shoulders. He breathed in deeply, smelling the rich scent of her perfume.
The corner of his mouth twitched. He loved to take off the fine gowns she wore to social events. Loved to pull out the pins from her hair and run his fingers through her curls as they fell loosely around her. Loved to kneel down and slip the heels from her feet before sweeping her off of them and carrying her to their bed.
"You think everything is sweet," he said dismissively, trying to keep the hammering in his chest under control.
"You can't honestly say you aren't happy for them," Hermione retorted. "Yes Theo was… exuberant, but people in love always are.
"I suppose," Draco said drolly and slid a finger down her spine.
Hermione scoffed and his eyes cut back up to hers in the mirror. "Draco," she said seriously. "Do you not remember hiring a dragon to take me up on only to have it breathe fire and light up 'Will you marry me?' on the ground below? Exuberant if I've ever seen it."
Draco smirked and moved his hand back up to the back of her neck and debating with himself whether to unclasp the necklace or leave it on her chest so it would bounce with the movements of his thrusts. "Well, it got you to say yes that time."
Hermione rolled her eyes this time, but the small smile grew just a little. Draco decided to leave it on. He liked seeing her in jewels. Especially ones he had bought for her.
"It was what? The sixth time you asked me?" Hermione tilted her head to the side slightly and narrowed her eyes playfully.
"Seventh," Draco answered.
"You're not counting that first time when-"
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against him. "When we were drunk and I was fucking you in the back of that Muggle car you used to drive around? Yes, I'm counting that."
Hermione flushed pink.
"As I recall, you almost said yes." Draco breathed out, making a few curls ruffle beside her face.
"I said a lot of things that night."
He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her midriff, holding her. "Oh, I remember."
"I don't know how," she tucked her face down in embarrassment. "You were stone drunk. We both were."
"I could never forget our first fuck."
She slowly blinked her eyes, letting her dark lashes brush across the tops of her cheeks. "My husband, the romantic."
"That's right," Draco said, sliding his hand up to hers and pulling slightly, making the gown slip dangerously low on her chest. "You bring it out in me."
She smiled again, her cheeks pinking as she glanced up to see him smirking back at her.
"Now I want to bring these out," he said huskily and pulled her hand down farther, letting the midnight blue gown slip over her slender frame and pool at the floor around her golden heels.
Draco hardened behind her.
Where the fuck she had found panties that small he had no clue, but he would buy one of every thing in the shop if it even looked half as good as these did on her. Hell, maybe he'd just buy the company so they could exclusively make lingerie for her. Either way, she was going to need a new pair because he was going to tear these apart with his teeth.
Draco cupped her breasts, kneading them with long fingers until her breathing quickened. He could feel her skin heating up against him and fought the urge to watch his hands on her in front of the mirror, electing to keep his eyes on the twin pools of deep brown that were darkening with desire in the silver glass. When her mouth parted slightly to allow a small gasp Draco's thumbs and fingers moved to her hardened nipples, rolling them skillfully before giving them each a soft pull and causing another breathtaking gasp to slip from her.
"Let me have you," he murmured into her ear, breathing out against it. "I was on my best behavior tonight. I want my prize."
"Were you? You spent half the night at the punch table with Blaise and the other half pawing at me-"
Draco tightened his fingers on her nipples and Hermione let out a weak whimper.
"Would you rather I be bad then?" he asked in a husky voice. "Because I'll fuck you against this mirror and make you watch your own face as you come, or-" he snaked a hand down to her rest under navel. "I can lay you down on our big, soft bed and use my tongue for even better things than getting you wet on a dance floor."
"How do you know you got me-"
"Oh, I know, my love," Draco said in a low voice, gazing deeply into the reflection of her dark eyes. "Just like I know you're going to let me lick you clean."
Her eyes opened wide and stared back at him.
"Yes," Hermione whispered back, brows pulling together in want. "Oh, God, yes…"
Draco bent his knees and swept her up in his arms, carrying her over to the bed and laid her down softly, watching as her body sunk into the thick blanket, bare except for the necklace of golden stars, her tiny panties, and gilded heels that were sinfully tall. He stepped back to admire her, this gorgeous woman in his bed that finally allowed him to call her his wife after years of chasing her.
He pulled his shirt from his shoulders, tossing it to the floor and his trousers followed after. Draco climbed onto the bed and pulled her legs up, and knelt in front of her. Kissing her ankle, he slowly made his way up to her creamy calf, relishing the taste of her skin.
"Draco, my shoes-" Hermione started.
"Leave them on," he growled. "I want you to dig those heels into me when I'm fucking you."
"Oh, God." She pushed her head back, letting her loose waves spill out onto the pillows behind her. She looked like a Queen, surrounded by a crown of curls and adorned in gold. And he was her loyal subject.
He switched legs as he reached her knees, trailing his lips over the smooth skin of her thigh and resting her legs on his shoulders as he slowly bent himself lower towards the place he had been trying to reach all night and now only a little piece of fabric was keeping him out.
Draco breathed out as he reached the apex of her thighs and felt her tremble. He grazed his lips over the fabric, he was just about able to taste her through it and planted a small kiss right in the middle. Hermione breathed out deeply, letting all the air leave her lungs in a wistful sigh. He sucked on them causing a sharp intake of breath and when he had enough of the wet fabric in his mouth, closed his teeth around them and started to tug.
Hermione used her legs on his shoulders to push her ass up from the bed so the last bit of clothing easily slid from her body. Draco growled in appreciation as they moved down her legs easily. He could taste her on them and sucked at them as he continued to pull them down. He paused when they reached her knees and looked down at his wife under him.
Desire darkened her burning cinnamon eyes and he bit down harder, grinding the thin fabric in his teeth before yanking them back quickly and ripping them over her heels and pushing her legs back open.
"That's the third pair of underwear you've ruined this week," Hermione said, trying to sound forceful, but her flushed cheeks gave her away.
Draco shrugged. "Stop wearing them then."
Leaning back down, Draco pulled her thighs around his head and felt the tips of her heels resting below his shoulders. Finally, he had her right where he wanted. Pulling his eyes away from her center only long enough to watch as sparks shot off deep in her gaze, Draco ran his tongue along her fold.
A shaking breath left her and her head fell back against the pillows again as his own fell deeply between her legs. He kissed her lower lips the same as he would the ones higher up, letting his tongue slowly part into them. She opened easily for him, but he still worked his tongue over her as if she was not already ripe for the taking.
She tasted sweet and tangy, a wonderful combination that he dove in deeper for, trailing the length of her fold, spreading the creaminess over her and mixing it with his own saliva before gathering it back up with his tongue and drinking it down. Her breath was getting quicker and he ran his tongue inside her slit as his lips gently caressed her sensitive skin.
She gave a small twitch when the tip of his tongue touched the bud hidden away. Draco had to stop himself from grinning as he ran his tongue around it in gentle strokes, breathing out heavily onto her. He moved himself lower, towards her opening and found it soaked again. Dipping his tongue inside, he collected the fruits of his effort and trailed them back up to enjoy them on the bundle of nerves he had left quivering in his absence.
He flicked his tongue over her, bringing her closer with every swipe. Hermione let out a breathy moan, barely more than a whisper, but enough to drive him on. Draco rested his arm on her lower stomach, spreading his hand out over her to part her farther with his fingers then opened his mouth over her and let his tongue work itself back and forth, up and down until her little moans turned higher and quicker.
He shifted his tongue, coaxing her on with broad, flat strokes then switching to short, little laps, nodding his head as her hips began to move up, trying to meet him.
Her noises grew louder and he felt a deep ache of his own as his body called to claim hers. Her thighs were shaking around his head, closing in and muffling the ever-increasing sounds coming from her. The last thing he heard before they clamped around him, trapping him against her was Hermione desperately calling out his name.
Draco licked at her, keeping the same pace until he felt her start to convulse and gradually began to soften his tongue's swipes, knowing she was growing more sensitive with each one. He wasn't sure how long it took her to release her thighs from around his head, but the sound of her deep breathing and whimpering moans flooded back in as he kissed her to completion.
He placed soft pecks against her lips, her skin, her thighs as he slowed and sat back up. He could feel her on his face and ran his tongue around the edges of his mouth as he gazed down at the sated and satisfied woman below him.
Hermione's face was turned to the side, her eyes barely closed and chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.
"Good enough for you?" Draco smirked and her burning brown eyes fluttered open. All she could manage was a nod and a small noise of approval. He chuckled as he leaned down over her, not letting their bodies touch just yet. She reached up and ran her hands over his chest and around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down onto hers and giving another small moan as she tasted herself on his lips.
Draco felt his muscles contract and a deep throbbing of his own need hanging just inches away from her. He extended their kiss while pushing her slightly under him, getting her body in position for him and spreading her legs wider with his knees before placing himself on top of her.
"This is going to be fast, okay? I've been at half-mast since our first dance tonight and I need this. Now."
Hermione nodded, swallowing and moved her hands down to his chest and around his sides to hold on, knowing it was going to be quick and rough and urgent. Draco lined himself up with her entrance, pressing the tip of himself against her warmth then leaned down to capture her mouth with his again.
"Wrap your legs around me," he said in a hoarse voice and glanced down at the gold and jewels resting right above her bare breasts. Hermione hiked her legs up, pressing her knees above his waist and locking her heels across his back.
He couldn't stop the hiss that escaped him when he slid himself inside her, every muscle in his body tightening as he moved himself back and forth, speeding up quickly. Hermione's nails dug into his sides and back as she gasped with each thrust. He placed his hand on the top of her head, holding her under him as he pushed harder and deeper into her core.
Hermione was whimpering, gasping out moans in between heavy breaths. Her body moved under him as he quickened his pace, unable to slow down. He could feel her closing in around him and groaned as her warmth squeezed him. "Fuck, Hermione," he breathed out, starting to pant as a pressure built deep inside him.
"Just…" her breath caught in her throat. "Just a little more, please…"
Draco let out a low moan from deep in his chest. He couldn't wait much longer, his body was calling for a release and she felt so good around him, letting him dive into her as deep as he wanted, as he needed. She had done what he asked and the points of her heels were digging painfully into his back, pressing in harder every time he pulled himself back just to plunge back down into her. Fuck, he loved that feeling.
He crashed his mouth onto hers, driving himself into her faster, faster, faster. She tightened her thighs around him and he felt her walls close in on him, shaking with pleasure. She moaned something that might have been his name, but his lips didn't leave hers long enough for her to form real words.
He couldn't hold back anymore. She was clenching him and his blood was racing hotly in his veins. "Shit, oh, oh!" Draco pulled himself from her at the last second and spilled himself over her center, watching as he shot more and more, his body feeling weaker as his heart beat loudly in his ears.
Hermione was panting, trying to come back down from her second orgasm when he ran two fingers up her slit, gathering what he could of himself on them and lifting it up to her open mouth.
"Your turn." He grinned, grey eyes shining. She opened her mouth and he slid his fingers inside. Draco couldn't breathe while her tongue slid around his long fingers, sucking them clean. He felt his cock twitch again and slowly pulled his fingers from her mouth, running them over her lips and savoring their soft wetness.
He shifted slightly, resting his body on the bed next to her while simultaneously snaking an arm around her waist to keep her body against his.
"God, Draco…" she sighed and turned her head on the pillow towards him. "I can't feel my legs."
He grinned at her and sat up, picking up one of her legs and pulling the golden heel off of her foot and then did the same to the other, dropping them over the side of the bed. "Lift your head," he commanded and unclasped her necklace when she did so. Hermione's head fell heavily back down onto the bed of curls splayed out over the pillows.
He tossed the priceless piece of jewelry somewhere, hearing it clatter into some corner. With the last bit of his strength he pulled a throw from the bottom of the bed up, covering up his beautiful, satisfied, and exhausted wife.
"Sleep, my love," he murmured, kissing her hairline. Hermione gave a small moan and let her long lashes close over her deep eyes. He settled down next to her, pulling her into the crook of his arm and she nuzzled her face into his chest. Draco ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and when her breathing changed into slower deeper ones, he gently pulled on her long curls, lifting them up and letting them fall back down.
He felt sleep weighing heavily on him, muscles loosening and limbs weighed down. He rested his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes, using the last few seconds of consciousness he whispered, "I love you, Hermione Malfoy. My wife. My love."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. Also I would like to give a special thanks to mysweetorangetree for helping me name this fic and being an amazing person in general.
#dramione#dramione fanfiction#post hogwarts#one shot#Smut#dramione smut#fluff#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x hermione granger#hermione malfoy#malfoy#theodore nott x luna lovegood#married draco and hermione#fanfiction recs#harry potter fan fiction#fanfiction.net#ao3#archive of our own#wattpad#fanfiction#ikorous#established#established dramione#domestic
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two to tango | javier x reader
*please note that i have no idea who created this gif. please let me know who did so i can give them credit.
summary: you’re pregnant and javier is the father. unfortunately, the two of you also haven’t spoken to one another in over a month. he’s starting to notice how easily startled you’ve become and how pissed you’ve been getting around the office. maybe it’s time to finally tell him.
contains: pregnancy. fluff. mentions of open relationships and an age-gap. (reader is well over eighteen.) your relationship is a bit wack but the two of you mean well.
author’s note: i’m barely getting by in quarantine, so here’s a really crappy one-shot. my first javier fic!
you felt him watching you.
the way you stumbled more frequently but was more apt to catch yourself less you actually did. the way your hands shook as you wrote down information called in through a hiss of static and how the noise pissed you off more than usual. it was the way you made sure not to walk too close to his desk, how your hands passed him folders marked with “confidential” as though he were infected with something.
javier was fuckin’ clueless though.
how he didn’t see earlier was beyond you. it’d been a month and a half since the last time you’d slept together. it’d been a month since the argument between the two of you ended things abruptly. javier and his informants and you and your jealously.
not to say you were wrong to be jealous. because you weren’t. you weren’t wrong to be angry when javier had to bail on you to collect some intel by whatever means necessary. and, granted, you had given him permission to do whatever it was to take out that escobar fuck. but certainly he had to have seen through that “cool girl” demeanor.
maybe it was because you were younger than him. javier didn’t play games - it wasn’t his niche. and usually it wasn’t yours; that is, of course, until the game reared its ugly face. you called him out on his bullshit only to cast the line; to get a rise out of him just to see how much he really cared. and when he didn’t take the bait (or didn’t understand what the fuck you were trying to get at) you grew restless at his lack of passion. this is the game that fucks up many relationships and it certainly fucked up yours.
but not until javier fucked you. a lot. every night really because the two of you lived down the hall from one another. then when your jealously and his nonchalance finally came to a head, the game stood on its platform and bit into its shiny gold medal. one comment led to another and soon enough you found yourself slamming the door in his face, unable to breath, and giving him the cold shoulder for thirty whole days.
but that thirty whole days was up a week ago.
it’s almost quitting time. well, for you anyway. you had a set schedule. you didn’t go out on the field or get your fingers dirty like steve or javier did. no. you sat in a square protected by bulletproof glass, phone to your chin, and breaking pencils by the dozens while you doodled mindlessly. the clock on the far wall ticks lazily, your kneecaps bobbing anxiously with the beat. you want so desperately to go home, to get out of this sauna of an embassy and drink...shit. well, to drink water, you suppose.
you let out a slight groan.
there’s a knock on your cubicle which rattles the glass a little. it’s always startled you, but considering the circumstances the sound the glass makes is enough to make you jump in your seat just slightly.
you place a hand on your chest, eyes tearing away from the clock, and find javier with his hands on his hips. he watches you with frown on his face, though the mustache hides most of it.
ah, fuck. it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. you were supposed to approach him. he wasn’t supposed to feel obligated to ask why you were more fidgety or anxious than usual; why you were now staring him down with a grimace on your face, eyes dropped with fatigue, and heart skipping a little.
well, shit. maybe javier peña was more observant of your behavior than you thought.
he says your name softly and raps his finger on the window again so you’d open it. you find yourself doing just that but not without sighing in defeat. the whiff of his cologne immediately intrudes your space, making your head dizzy with...all sorts of feelings, really. javier didn’t wear that much cologne. must be another lovely effect of pregnancy, you suppose.
he leans forward to say, “we need to talk.”
he’s being tactical - clever - in the way he speaks in such a hushed tone, eyes scanning the room to watch people leave their desks. it’s five now. lights are being flickered off, goodbyes being said. javier raises a hand at a few cadets who wish him a good night.
and then finally the room is empty. steve’s not even here - he’s on the field today - boots on the ground and whatnot. but javier was here.
and he was staring right at you.
his voice rumbles loudly from his mouth. “what’s going on with you?”
god dammit. you clench around nothing, palms sweating, and wishing he’d just fucking leave. especially with the way he smells. especially with the way his voice is heady with testosterone and authority.
“nothing,” you lie. it’s a bad show of dishonesty. you’ve never been that great at fibbing anyway, but this has to be one of the least convincing displays you’ve ever attempted.
javier isn’t persuaded by the way you choke on your own words. and with all the sweat gathering against your chest, who would be?
“i’m worried about you,” he murmurs. “you’ve been acting...strange.”
he seems genuinely concerned which both pisses you off and excites you at the same time. on one hand, he’d been watching you. making sure you were okay. healthy. safe. on the other hand, he had the audacity to fret himself over your demeanor when he’d been ignoring you.
in his defense, you’d been the one to kick him out.
you swallow a lump in your throat. acid, mostly, and then pride. “okay,” you finally squeak. “let’s talk.”
javier watches you cautiously, taking stock of your color and expressive eyes which probably looked a bit dilated at the moment. finally he says, “fine. over drinks?”
drinks. shit.
--
“your place or mine?” he’d asked after.
you told him ‘mine’ in a pathetic manner as he drove you. this area of medellín didn’t have a lot to offer as far as views go, but there was enough to keep your mind occupied as you passed. food carts that wafted delicious smells. children playing games. lovers quarreling. and then finally you arrive at the apartment complex where everything felt a little more beige and lonely - where culture was almost sucked from the grasp of the american embassy.
but javier was here now, and as much as you wanted to hit yourself for thinking so, the night felt a bit brighter when he opened the door for you. you thank him as the two of you enter the building and then wait in silence as you fumble with your keys.
javier takes a deep breath and makes himself at home. he’s been here hundreds of times. he even has his own sock drawer; one you hadn’t cleaned out yet (you told yourself you were too busy but you know...). he shucks off his boots and places them in the corner because he knows that’s where you like them, and when he sheds his jacket he lays it on the back of the couch just like you do.
you beeline for the fridge, desperate to busy your hands. there’s not much in here drink-wise save for some water bottles and some of his leftover beer. there is a bottle of red wine, chilled and tempting, but you ignore it with a frown and fetch javier’s choice of poison.
he sits on the couch, elbows at his knees, and staring blankly at the floor beneath him. when you enter the room he blinks up at you and accepts your offering with a small “thank you”.
“water, huh?” he notices as you uncap the bottle, brow furrowing a little. he knew how much you loved wine after a long day, and he definitely knew there was some in that fridge.
you nod a little too quickly for your liking. “yeah,” you say, taking a swig. “is that alright with you?”
javier grins at your snark. maybe it was bubbling up old feelings in him. you try to pretend like that doesn’t make you...well, feel something other than frustration. you wanted to be mad at him. you did.
there’s a silence between the two of you. it’s heavy. stifling. not awkward, but tense. tense enough that javier starts first with a great sigh.
“i miss you,” he says abruptly. he’s fingering with the lip of his bottle - can barely look you in the eyes when he says it...as though he’s ashamed of it or something.
“i know i shouldn’t because...” he sets the beer on your coffee table and folds his hands together. “because i was the one that fucked it up.”
you want to correct him but he’s not entirely wrong. while you played a hand in this as well, it takes two to tango and it certainly did take two to tango in this situation.
“i...” you start, but fall short. you weren’t keen on admitting you were wrong. you hated admitting you were wrong. always have. “i’m to blame too. i lied to you.”
javier perks a brow, lips pursing for a moment before asking, “lied?”
you shrug and nod at once, a little skeptical of your show of honesty. you hope it didn’t look too forced or shallow. pathetic. typical of you to overthink things...to make it about you.
“i wasn’t okay with you sleeping with other women,” you admit. and it feels so fucking good to say it aloud to the one person who matters.
javier sets his jaw and nods at his feet. “i shouldn’t have done it.”
that part was true.
“still, i should’ve told you straight out. i just felt like you didn’t...” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose, a wave of nausea washing over you rather suddenly. “i just felt like you didn’t care enough about me to stop. and i was being a child for pushing you to admit it. or trying to push you to admit it. i don’t know...”
you shake your head, stunned by your own stupidity. when saying it out loud to an actual person and not your shampoo bottles it doesn’t make any sense. how manipulative can someone be?
“i should’ve just been honest with you and i’m sorry i wasn’t...” is all you can say. that was the simplicity of it.
javier shifts beside you on the couch. you don’t look up at him - you’re way too ashamed. he sets a hand on your thigh and you can’t help but shudder vibrantly at his touch.
“i knew you weren’t okay with the...” he considers his next words carefully. “informants. and, to be honest, i wanted you to break first.”
you glance up at him through your lashes. “why?”
he chuckles softly all of a sudden. “you know i’m not an open book. but you...” he pauses and takes your hand that’s limp in your lap. “you’re more stubborn than i am.”
he presses a delicate kiss to it, mustache tickling the tender flesh. “please come back to me.”
he...wants you back.
tears swell in your eyes before you can even acknowledge their existence. they’d come on so suddenly - without warning.
damn these hormones.
you use your free hand to wipe a lone tear away, noting how a wrinkle of concern puckers his brow when you do.
“i have to tell you something first.”
he scoots closer, eyes narrowed, but mouth soft in dismay. he massages the space between your forefinger and thumb which, strangely enough, alleviates some of the leftover nausea in your gut.
might as well spit it out.
“i’m pregnant, javi.”
you’ve imagined this scenario hundreds - and i mean hundreds- of times since seeing those pink lines on that piece of plastic. you imagine he’d shut down, sort of like a fax machine when it overheats, and walk out the door. maybe he’d throw his hands above his head, pace around the room, and spout off ways of how it couldn’t be possible despite the fact that you rarely used protection.
how it happened, you couldn’t be sure. the technicalities of it, at least. you’d been on birth control but maybe you’d missed a dose. maybe you were just really fuckin’ fertile and javier was really fuckin’ fecund. but either way it happened and there was nothing to do but say it did - indeed - happen.
and just as you think he’s had a stroke...that you should either call for an ambulance or at the very least steve, javier cracks...a grin.
not a joke. he doesn’t crack a joke. he cracks a smile. it starts off subtle until it doesn’t; until his teeth and all are showing. he laughs, but in good humor too. not snickering - but laughing.
you can’t help but jolt back from his touch with dubious reserve. “are you...laughing?”
javier’s smile falls into a pleasant smirk and then he’s holding your face between two calloused palms. palms that are familiar and warm, that have touched every inch and frailty of your body. the ones that helped make life within you.
and before he even says it, you know it’s okay. that it’s all gonna be okay.
“is that why you’ve been so goddamned jumpy lately?” he beams, thumb rubbing a small and gentle circle against your cheek.
you stare at him incredulously before you begin to giggle well. it was only a matter of time, especially by the look of sheer delight in his eyes. you were stunned by his bliss of it all.
you nod in his embrace. “yeah,” you admit meekly. but you’re smiling now too.
javier presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent with a great inhale. “i knew there was something going on.” he brings his nose to the crook of your neck and takes in another deep breath. “you smell different.”
you roll your eyes in jest. “bullshit.”
“i’m serious,” he says, perfect nose gliding along your skin. “i’m positive that’s a thing.”
your hands grip his cheeks, stubble itching your skin when you do. he looks luminous- maybe even more than you.
“so...” you caress the top of his eyebrow, thumb brushing over it ever so slightly. he always loved it when you did that. “are we okay with this?”
javier leans into you, eyes trained on your lips. “of course we’re okay with it,” he confirms softly. “we’re more than okay with it.”
#probably the longest one shot i've written in awhile#it's ehhhhhhhhhhhhh#it's done i guess#mw1#javier pena x reader#javier pena
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Top 5 Best Executed Deaths
A few weeks ago, I did a list talking about the Top 5 Character Deaths That Made Me Side-Eye the Writers and I thought it was only fair that I talk about some of the character deaths that I thought were actually done well. So consider this like a companion to that list.
Like I said in that T5F, this is TWDG, a game series all about people surviving in a world overrun by zombies. Naturally, characters are going to die. Some of these characters get pretty shitty deaths that only happened to fill a quota, some had effort and thought put into them and how they were going to effect the story and remaining characters. These are deaths that served their purpose, progressed the story, or are an understandable conclusion to a character’s arc.
Do keep in mind that when I say that I enjoy the way these were done/handled/portrayed/whatever, this isn’t me taking joy outta watching these deaths play out. Hell, I kinda hate most of the deaths on this list, but just because I don’t want this character to die or I wish they stuck around longer doesn’t mean I can’t recognize when it’s executed well, y’know?
5. Larry and the meat locker incident
So.... Larry’s an asshole, y’know? He made it on another T5F because he sucks. No one likes Larry.
He treats Lee like garbage, treats his own daughter terribly, and is overall just a piece of shit. That being said, he played his role well. He did what he needed to do which was be a antagonistic character within the group who posed a threat to Lee by threatening to expose his past. He creates a lot of tension within the group, he puts all this pressure on Lilly, you can’t even attempt to show any kindness to him because he doesn’t care about anyone but himself and Lilly.
That being said.... his death scene is pretty good. Y’know, you play through ep2 for the first time and you’ve just discovered that these people are cannibals and they have you locked in a fucking meat locker so they can butcher you later, and Larry is freakin’ the fuck out because he’s pissed. Lilly is sick in the corner, Kenny is desperately trying to find a way out because they have his family, and Clementine is terrified, and Lee is just waking up.
You go over and try to calm Larry down because he’s pounding at the door and this dude.... this bastard has the gall to be like “Fuck you, you must really hate me! I’m plannin’ on bein’ around waaaaaay after you’re dead! I’ll be the one to put you down!”
Then he has a heart attack.
And you’re stuck in this meat locker with him. You don’t know if he’s alive or not-- Kenny immediately deems him dead, Lilly is desperately trying to resuscitate him, and they’re both yelling at you. You gotta decide if you’re gonna help Lilly try to bring him back, or if you’re gonna help Kenny make sure he doesn’t turn.
Not matter what you do, Kenny smashes Larry’s head in with a damn saltlick because I guess he missed the opening of the episode where they remind you that your actions have consequences.
Larry’s death has lasting effects on your relationships with both Lilly and Kenny, though more so Kenny since no matter what, Lilly loses it a little and ends up murdering Carley/Doug and leaving the group. But boy, Kenny will never forget the time you didn’t wanna play hero with him and smash a guys head in right in front of his daughter.
It’s a damn good scene, I gotta hand it to ‘em. I hate Larry and I can’t say I miss him, but I can definitely see both sides of the argument on what to do there. Plus it’s... I dunno, a creative death? and I kinda like that? No one else is out here getting their heads done in with a saltlick, y’know?
Anyway, Larry sucks but his death? Well done.
4. Minerva and the tragic showdown on the bridge
Oh man, I really am digging my own grave with the Minnie crowd lately, huh? Ah well, I’m sure it’s fine.
Listen...okay, look. I have a lot of feelings about the bridge scene. On one hand, I hate it. On the other hand, I kind of love it?
Like, does it piss me off that Tenn dies here because I trust AJ? Yep. Do I still wish they had maybe put Lilly here so that she could actually do her job as a villain? Sure. Does it upset me that AJ ends up shooting his best friend in order to save Louis? Totally. Does it annoy me that Minerva just won’t fucking die even though I shot her and the walkers keep nom noming her? Absolutely.
That being said, I can’t pretend that Minerva’s death isn’t pretty great.... which I know will upset the Minnie crowd who always talk about how it’s bullshit she died here and she deserved a redemption arc... but lemme explain.
Looking at the game itself, the text and story progression, Minerva was never going to get that. She was never set up as someone we were gonna “fix” or as someone who would have a change of heart and switch to our side. From the moment we meet her, she’s too far gone. The delta have their claws sunk deep within her, they brainwashed her, forced her to murder her own sister, and she has completely given up. She never expresses any desire to go back to the school. Nope, the delta is her home now. Her family. And it’s tragic. She and Sophie proof of what would happen to the Ericson crew if the delta go ahold of them-- “which twin will you be?” y’know?
She fucks us over instead of actually helping us, we escape, the boat explodes, but Minerva doesn’t go down with the boat. Nope, she makes it to land and well... she fucking loses it. She sees her delta family get taken out by walkers and she goes nuts with her gun and gets half of her face chewed off by a walker.
So yeah..... she’s dead. Almost. They try to act like we’re supposed to believe that she’s really dead after she gets surrounded by walkers and throws the grenade at Clementine and all that but c’mon.... unless I see a body or a walker version, I don’t believe shit.
Which brings me to the bridge.... there’s a lot of dread building up to Minerva’s final appearance, and you just hear her singing the damn song and bringing a bunch of walkers with her. Not to mention that she already looks dead. She looks like a walker who can talk, and not gonna lie, I like it. It’s freaky and sad and fucked up and adds so much to her character at this point. I mean, she’s here to kill Tenn so that they can all be a family again. She’s smiling and relieved that she’s dying and boy she just can’t wait to take Tenn with her and it’s not great.
She’s here to die and to take someone down with her, and she’s not leaving until she does. Hell, if she can take Clementine out, that’s just a bonus at this point.
ALSO can’t forget that if AJ does shoot and kill Tenn, Minerva is still alive as she’s being eaten by walkers and she looks so damn happy as she reaches out and says, “Yes, come with me...”
Like..... it’s so fucked, and I hate that I love it. From a storytelling standpoint, it’s a fitting death to conclude Minerva’s character and it impacts everyone there in more ways than one.
3. Duck and incredible emotional impact
Oh, Duck... poor, poor Duck.
This one has stuck with me and I hate it. I was never one of those players who hated Duck from the beginning. It’s interesting to go back and see how people reacted to him in the first couple episodes because a lot of them didn’t like him. They found Duck to be annoying, loud, stupid, and would even wonder “yeesh, when can I kill this kid?”
Which is yikes but not gonna get into that right now.
But from my understanding, Telltale got wind of this and knowing they were gonna kill him off, were like “Okay, y’all dumb, so here--” and they added in that little segment with Detective Duck where he helps Lee figure out what’s been going on with the stole meds. It’s a cute scene where we get to hang out with Duck and he proves that he’s not stupid, he’s just... y’know, a child.
Then the motor inn gets attacked, shit goes down after they escape, and it’s revealed that Duck was bitten.
Oh man, let me tell you about emotional impact both on the characters and the player because wow.
Duck’s death is slow, drawn out...and since it’s early in the series, there’s a lot of denial, mostly from Kenny. They find the train and Kenny fixates on it because to him, if he gets it working and they can just get away, Duck can recover. Duck isn’t like the others, he’s just a little sick and everyone is making a big fuss about it.
Then you have Katjaa, who starts out in that denial stage but she moves into acceptance a lot quicker than Kenny does and well.... that might be because she made up her mind about what she was going to do, which that is a whole other layer of fucking despair to this situation.
They also do something that I like with Kenny by adding that depth of him believing he had something like this coming after what happened at Hershel’s farm. Y’know, when he grabbed Duck and took off, leaving Shawn to die? Yeah that.
He’s been so adamant about protecting his family to the point where he doesn’t have anything for the rest of the group, aside from Lee if he helps kill Larry. He did what he could to keep his wife and child safe and in the end, it didn’t matter. Duck still got bit, and now everything is shit.
Then when you thought it couldn’t hurt even more, you find Katjaa dead in the woods and you still have to take care of Duck, whether you have Lee shoot him or have Kenny do it, or even just leave him to turn. Either way.... Duck’s death is just one big ol’ despairing oof.
It’s really good, guys. The music, dialogue, scenery, the pain....They really nailed Duck’s death in such an emotional way and it doesn’t just end there. This sticks with Kenny all the way through S2 and changes him as a character. It impacted Clementine and Lee greatly because this kickstarted Chuck telling them that Clem would end up just like Duck if things didn’t change.
S1 just... knew how to kill off its characters... well, for the most part.
2. Marlon and the death that had to happen whether we like it or not
Sigh.... okay.
So... Marlon. Lemme tell you some things about Marlon’s death.
First, I hate it. Nothing new there. If you know anything about me, you know that I am vocal in my desire for the Marlon redemption arc, for the “Marlon lives” AU’s and the “Marlon lives longer but dies differently” AU’s. I like Marlon as a character, I find him to be a fascinating character study. Ray Chase’s performance as Marlon brings so much personality and I love it. So naturally, I wanted more of him in TFS.
Here’s the thing. I may want all of those things, I may take a lot of joy from discussing these ideas with you guys and coming up with different scenarios, theories, AU’s about him, and I’ll always be the first one to be like “I hate that Marlon dies in ep1, I wish AJ hadn’t shot him! Woulda liked for him to stick around longer!”
But with the story TFS is trying to tell, Marlon has to die. AJ has to shoot him. I don’t like it, you don’t like it, no one likes it.... but that’s just how it is.
Marlon is presented to us as this chill and genuine guy trying to keep his group safe and together. He feels the pressure of being responsible for all the lives in this school and that’s a lot to put on a teen growing up in the apocalypse.
Then we learn that hey, the twins didn’t die. No, last year they ran into Abel and Marlon made a deal with him where he traded the twins in order to save himself, Brody, and the rest of the school. He wanted to plan a rescue mission, but he was too scared, so he and Brody kept it to themselves. They made up a story about the twins dying and moved on, but that continued to weigh down on them.
Then Abel comes back, Brody freaks out, tells Clementine the truth, and Marlon hits her so hard that it kills her.
And it gets worse.
You go through the whole confrontation with Marlon trying to cover his ass and blame Clementine for Brody’s murder, he’s waving AJ’s gun around and threatening to shoot Clem while everyone is gathered around watching. It’s raining, it’s super dramatic and tense and I love it.
In the end, Marlon gives up and he just wants to leave. Let him become a bad memory, he’ll never come back, just let him go.
Then AJ shoots him in the head unprompted. He just.... he just does it and then wonders why everyone is looking at him like he’s a murder baby.
Marlon’s death is crucial, not just to kickstart the plot but also for AJ’s character arc. His death affects everyone in that school. It makes Clementine question herself and if she’s raising AJ right, it breaks Louis’ heart, it pisses off Mitch, it sets Violet off on her bullshit. Everyone is hurting and confused because they don’t know what to do. Marlon is dead and AJ, this tiny toddler, was the one who pulled the trigger.
From the beginning, we’re told that AJ is always listening, watching, and what we do will affect him for better or worse.... and maybe you don’t think much when you tell him to always aim for them head, but when he says exactly what you taught him after murdering Marlon...? Yeah, you’re sitting there like “Well, fuck.”
But if this didn’t happen, if AJ didn’t kill Marlon, then.... there’s not a lot left. Sure the raiders are still coming, but AJ no longer has to go through what he has to or realize how much he hurt everyone. He’s no longer on that path that made him such an interesting and layered character.
Sure, you coulda made him shoot someone else, but the fact that it was Marlon is what made it impactful.
Ugh, it’s good and I hate it. I hate it so much.
1. Lee and the death that broke all our hearts
.......Just-
-y’know?
What else is there to say?
Well, alright, I’ll explain.
We play as Lee in S1, we go on this whole journey with him and develop him as a character, establish relationships, and care for Clementine. He’s a great character. I did a list on why he’s great, too, if you wanna check that out but all you really need to know is that we all loved Lee.
Lee’s got a lot of baggage, given that he was on his way to prison for murdering the dude who was sleeping with his wife. But then the apocalypse happened and he got a second chance to do some good... or I guess bad? if you do a scumbag Lee run?
Anyway-- no matter what, he cares for Clementine and it’s nice to see them bond over the course of the season... so when shit hits the fan and Clementine gets kidnapped by the Stranger, we’re just as upset as Lee is.
Then Lee gets bit.... and we realize that even though he’s our playable protagonist, he was never safe either. He gets bit and I can still remember the feeling of like... a bowling ball dropping in my stomach and my heart hurting because no... no, no, not Lee. I basically became Kenny like “No, he’s different! Lee isn’t gonna die! Being bit doesn’t mean death!” and while that is technically true.... had to face it: Lee’s going to die by the end of the season.
Ep5 of S1 is a whole journey... We’re dealing with trying to save Clementine while seeing Lee get worse and worse-- he’s passing out, he’s growing paler and slower and it’s hard to watch. You maybe get a little bit of hope if you decide to cut his arm off, but that’s just... it’s too late for that.
Not only is he fighting this, but then you got Ben who gets impaled and Kenny “dies” putting him outta his misery and Lee’s powerless to do anything. So great, that sucks.
But at least he’s got Christa and Omid.... until they get separated at the Marsh House and Lee’s gotta get through a herd of them by himself.
This slow burn is so good. His condition gets progressively worse but he’s so determined to get to Clem that it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have time to think about what is inevitably going to happen to him, even if the player does.
And just.... the final scene... y’know, the actual death scene?
It’s so good. It’s a beautiful, emotional punch in the face. Like, way to end your game like this... Lee is trapped her with Clementine and he can’t walk, he can’t get up no matter how much Clementine begs him to try, he just- he can’t. He knows it’s all over for him and so he has her handcuff him to this heater so that no matter what, he can’t hurt her and just.... their final moments together where Lee is minutes away from death but is struggling to tell her as much as he can and I’m crying.
Then of course, the final choice-- Do you shoot Lee, or do you leave him to turn?
Both ending hurt my soul, but they’re both great in different ways. Shooting him is so heartbreaking... seeing little Clem sobbing as she points the gun at him and closes her eyes, then it cuts to black as the shot rings out and you hear Lee’s final breath....
BUT THEN YOU HAVE THE LEAVE HIM ENDING WHICH-
Lee manages to tell her more when you choose not to shoot him, but just watching Clementine get to the door and her little “don’t go” before Lee closes his eyes and falls over limp... falls over dead, I just--
Ouch... I am applauding this through my ugly sobs.
It’s the best death in the series. It has everything and then some- emotional impact, works to progress the story and characters, amazing dialogue and performances.... It still gets me to this day.
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Honorable Mentions
-Mark’s death technically happens off screen, but I mean, c’mon... Mark wasn’t the most compelling character, but everyone remembers what happened to him. Everyone remembers walker Mark. What happened to him showed us just how fucked the St Johns were and it’s excellent.
-Brody’s death is pretty good, too.
-Abel’s death is an interesting one. He’s a garbage can, but they managed to humanize him just a bit by the way he hands his soon-to-be demise.
-Badger when Conrad kills him. It’s super good.
-I’m looking over this list now and it’s kinda funny that not a single S2 death made it here... it’s almost like all the character death that happened there was because a quota needed to be filled and who cares about complex character development when you got Kenny and nothing really matters I guess... ugh. The best deaths would probably be Carver, and Kenny when you shoot him but they’re not good enough to be in a top 5 so.... good job.
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So... that was fun. What do you guys think? Do you agree with my choices or nah? Do you have a favorite death I didn’t list that you thought was well executed? Let me know, I’m curious.
Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D
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Next week’s T5F
#twdg t5f#twdg clementine#twdg aj#twdg louis#twdg lee#twdg violet#twdg tenn#twdg minerva#twdg lilly#twdg larry#twdg kenny#twdg katjaa#twdg duck#twdg marlon#twdg brody#twdg mitch#twdg#twdg abel#twdg carver#twdg badger#twdg conrad
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Too Far
Pairing: Bang Chan x reader
Genre: smut
Summary: You’d told yourself you’d never fuck with an arrogant dick like Chan, but when your stubborn ass tries to shut him up at a party, things get out of hand and you pay the price for provoking him.
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Warnings: graphic sexual content (duh), swearing, unprotected sex (don’t be like chan peeps), spanking, choking, degradation but also praise, um, what else.. overstimulation and maybe that’s it??
Word Count: 3.5K
Author’s Note: this was supposed to be a drabble but it got way out of hand listen I clearly needed to get this out of my system. Also wow I suck at titles somebody help me anyways, enjoy ♥ and happy holidays I guess!
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“Come on,” he says, smiling coyly as he poked you in the side a little, “name one person in this room better-looking than me.” He gestured to the crowd of other people partying it up in the hotel suite.
You squint your eyes at him. “Fuck off,” you reply, turning to move away from him but he catches your forearm and pulls you back.
“Just cause you know I’m right,” he chuckles and puckers his lips like the dumbass he is, “I mean, have you seen these juicy babies?”
“You are so full of shit,” you let out, throwing your head back in exasperation.
He’s not fazed. He continues to smirk at you, fingers squeezing into your arm slightly, “maybe so but that won’t stop me from getting under your skin. I saw the way you were looking at me back at the club,” he leans into you, “you want me,” he coos and the smug look on his face makes you want to smack him over the head with the nearest object.
Christopher Bang was the kind of guy that made you want to stick a fork in your eye. He was loud and obnoxious with an ego more inflated than a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade float. To your undying frustration, he was also undeniably sexy, but you’d never tell him that. Nope, because you didn’t fuck with boys like him.
Well, you were trying your hardest not to anyways.
“No,” you reply at once, completely done with his act, “you are full of shit, I’m telling you,” you let out a dry laugh, “you’ve been hitting on me all night, talking all this crap about how you’re the man and you can get any woman you like. But that’s all you are: a boy with a big mouth.”
“No, I’m not,” he retorts, sounding suddenly disgruntled, the amusement trickling out of his features.
“Fine,” you say, taking a bold step towards him, closing the small gap between the two of you, “then kiss me.”
Chan looks a little perplexed at first but the next moment his expression falls back into its signature smugness. “So you do want me,” he says, still toying with your arm.
“I never said that,” you raise your eyebrows at him.
He shakes his head. “You’re a liar,” he says and slowly, his smile disappears as he leans in closer and closer, clearly trying to knock down your confidence. But you weren’t about to let him win. You stay right where you are.
“You don’t intimidate me,” you scoff, not moving an inch, “you’re just words.”
The humor finally drains completely out of Chan’s eyes at that remark.
“Oh yeah?” he scowls down at you as he starts to drive you back into a small alcove towards the bathroom, getting you out of sight, “would you like me to prove you otherwise?” he whispers, his breath now hot against your cheek, “I would love nothing more,” his fingers come to your waist, where they caress the strip of skin between your top and your jeans, “and if I had my way with you, just know I’d do a little more than kiss you.”
You feel your cheeks heat up but don’t let it stunt you. The lighting in the hotel room is dim enough for him not to notice exactly how much his words are getting to you, so you decide to put some more fuel on the fire.
“Fine,” you whisper back, looking right up into his hooded eyes, “what exactly would you like to do to me?” you mused, bringing your lips dangerously close to his, “what would you do, huh? Lick me? Tease me? Spank me?” You watch his eyes go from shock to full-on hunger, which only spurs you on more. “Spread my legs? Would you stick a few fingers in me first or would you rather use that thing that’s poking out from between your legs?”
This is when he snaps. He grabs your wrist, squeezing much tighter than necessary and pulls you through the crowded room, not caring about the strange looks the two of you are getting from the other party-goers.
Once in the hallway he doesn’t stop. He’s in a hurry and you have no choice but to stumble along after him.
“What are you doing?” you whisper hotly.
He yanks to closer to him in return, bringing his free hand around your shoulder.
“Proving a point,” he snarls in your ear.
He opens the door to what you can only guess is his room for the night, and shoves you in, following suit. You hear the bang of the door behind you and his hand is on you again, jerking you back harshly. You hit the hard wooden surface with a thump and the next thing you know his frame is hovered over you. You look into his eyes twinkling mischievously in the dark for the smallest moment before his lips crash into yours with a passion that takes you completely off guard. His hands dig into your waist possessively and it doesn’t take long for your top to rise up over your belly, his hands exploring your skin. He can’t get enough, squeezing you close as his lips mold into yours hungrily. You’re completely overwhelmed by him; his sweet scent enveloping you, the faint taste of champagne on his tongue filling your mouth as he grinds his hips into you. He’s nearly growling into your mouth, a monster torn free of its leash. There’s a fervor in his every action that makes your knees grow weak already and you curse yourself for not being stronger.
One of his hands snakes up over your belly, your chest, grazing your neck before closing in just under your jaw, holding you in place.
“You’ve brought this on yourself, baby girl,” he says, eyes heavy on you as he smirks against your lips. You’re forced to stare at him as his other hand moves down from your waist to play with the hem of your jeans. He keeps his eyes locked on you, dark and commanding. You feel his fingers dip into your jeans a little, only to come back out the next moment. He repeats this action a couple of times as he smugly watches your breath grow heavy.
“Stop teasing,” you breathe out finally.
His eyes flash hot and his fingers move abruptly. The button of your jeans pops open. He grins at the shock in your face, taking advantage of your parted lips to kiss you deeply, slipping his tongue inside with a low groan. He keeps one hand tight on your hips as the other continues fumbling with your pants. You feel him tug at your zipper, the purr of the metal coming undone loud in the empty hotel room. His fingers slide over the skin at your hip bone and lower as they open up the fabric, pulling your jeans down just enough so he can toy with the edge of your panties next.
“Lacy,” he mumbles against your lips before deepening the kiss, slipping both his hands inside your panties to grab your ass. He squeezes into the skin harshly and you have to stifle a moan already. Pleased, noticing how ready you were for him, he breaks the kiss.
“Knew you wanted me,” he says in that cocky tone of his, making your blood boil.
“I don’t,” you reply, more out of stubbornness than anything but the effect is grand.
Chan grabs you and shoves you down onto the bed. You barely have time to realize what’s happening when he’s already managed to both pull your pants off and turn on the warm bedside lamp on the nightstand. You push yourself up on your elbows but he crawls over you, taking his shirt off in the process and forcing you back down. He’s fast to pin your one wrist to the mattress, his hips dipping down to prevent you from moving at all. A coarse finger is trailing down your cheek, stopping at your lips to press against the soft flesh.
“You don’t want me?” he asks in a pretend sweet way. His finger dips between your lips and you can’t help but suckle on the digit, something that sends a signal all the way down between your legs.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “whatever you say.”
You want to resist but the way his hard length is already pressing into your barely-covered crotch is throwing all logic out the window. As if he’s reading your mind, he starts to roll his hips into you, slowly, so you feel every single inch of him. You turn your head to the side, his finger coming out with a wet pop but he won’t have that. He grasps your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“What is that?” he says, looking down at you unblinkingly, “you like it when I do that?” he grinds down on you again, painstakingly slow, the thin fabric of your panties letting you feel too much. You want to look away but he’s got you completely locked. You bite the inside of your lip to which he smirks, his tongue darting out to lick at your swollen mouth.
“You sure you’re not into this, baby?” he breathes heavily, rubbing himself on you shamelessly. Your mind is in overdrive, waging war between your stupid pride and your desire to get your brains fucked out by this asshole. He shouldn’t be this hot; it’s not fair. A moan escapes your lips when his hand finds its way under your shirt and bra to tweak your nipple. To make things worse, his lips dip down to your neck, sucking at the skin like he’s been yearning to do so all his life. Your skin tingles deliciously and you know his actions will leave bruises, but this only fuels your desperation.
“Yeah,” he moans into your skin and you can tell he’s still wearing that stupid smug grin of his, “I guess you’re not really into this maybe I should sto—”
“Oh my god, you complete ass-wipe just fuck me already!” you groan loudly, squirming under him in total aggravation.
His face comes to hover just over yours.
“Good girl.”
In one smooth movement, he flips you over onto your belly. You hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor and the next moment he’s on top of you, his hot, exposed cock hard against your ass. He grabs a fist full of your hair and tugs up so he can latch onto your neck again. His dick slips between your legs as he pulls his hips back a little, before pushing back into you and letting his length massage your by-now-drenched pussy.
You moan out his name and he chuckles against your skin.
“You’re that needy for me already, huh?” he growls, biting down into your neck, “you want my cock?”
His fist tightens in your hair when you don’t reply.
“Yes,” you breathe, starting to push back against him.
“Such a bad girl,” he says, placing one last sloppy kiss to your neck, “getting ahead of yourself.”
His body moves away and the next moment his hands are on you, tugging you up, turning you around to face him.
“Suck,” he orders and a hand at the back of your neck pushes you down onto his ready cock.
He’s bigger than you’d thought he would be but he does not seem to care about what you’re thinking. The moment your lips wrap around his leaking head, he forces you down until he fills you all the way up to the back of your throat. You gag and choke but he keeps you there for a few seconds, groaning out in satisfaction.
“You’ve got to earn it, sweetie,” he breathes heavily.
When he finally lets go you shoot up gasping for air, a trail of saliva hanging from your parted lips.
He runs a hand through your hair, gently this time, almost soothingly. “You know what to do. Be a good girl and get back down there.”
You take the base of his dick in your hand and move down on him again, this time first licking your way up and down his shaft, slicking him up. You stroke his base slowly as you work your way around and hear him sigh out above you when you come back up to the head. His hand is still in your hair but he doesn’t force you down. When you look up at him and see the stern look in his eyes, however, you understand what is expected of you. You take him in again, stretching your lips over his skin, loving the feel of him in your mouth. The back of your mouth already feels sore from having him forced onto you earlier but you make your way down nonetheless, relishing the sound it evokes from him. His fingers caress your ears, your cheeks, your throat as you suck him, dragging your tongue over his length, swirling it around the tip and going back down, trying to take in as much of him as you could while your hand busied itself at his base.
“That’s right, baby girl,” he says, playing with your hair, “just like that.”
You feel him pulse inside you, which rouses you to quicken your pace. You feel his body move along with you, taking the new pleasure gladly but then, without warning, the hand at the back of your head hardens against you.
“Fuck,’ you hear him groan and, without warning, you’re being shoved down on him again. This time he moves you up and down along his shaft himself, jerking you around roughly and you can only cry out around his cock, tears starting to sting behind your eyes. You try to take him as well as you can as you whine and choke and this only gets him off more. He spews a chorus of curses down at you and starts to buck into your spent mouth. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore he pulls you off, bringing your face close to his.
His lips claim you hungrily, lapping up the saliva that had started spilling from your swollen lips. You don’t have a moment to catch your breath because the instant his lips leave yours he pulls your legs out from under you so you fall back onto the mattress. Finally, he tugs off your wetter-than-wet panties, throwing them over his shoulder because he has better things to look at. He holds both your legs in the air, spreading you open for him.
But then he doesn’t move. He just stares down at you, eyes twinkling mischievously.
“How bad do you want this, sweetie?”
“Fuck off,” you whine out in reply, patience running out.
He gives your pussy a quick, little slap that sends jolts of pain and pleasure through your system.
“Wrong answer,” he snarls, his hand coming back to your leg, steadying you as he leans in a bit closer over your helpless form, “try again, baby girl,” his fingers dig into your calves, “how much do you want this cock stretching you open? How much do you want me pounding into that pretty little pussy of yours, huh?”
“Fuck,” you cry under him, the lack of attention at your dripping core torturous, “just get in me, just fuck me, do whatever you want with me, fuck I need—” your speech is interrupted by your own shriek as he suddenly enters you all the way, not wasting any time letting you adjust. His tempo is fast and his thrusts hard, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and mixing in with your cries of pleasure. He’s looking down at you intensely with plump parted lips.
“You look so pretty under me,” he groans in between pants, “so desperate for my cock,” he shifts more of his weight on you, bending you legs farther back and finding an even better angle. You whine out wildly as you feel him hit you just right.
“Desperate like the little slut you are.”
One of his hands lets go of a leg to push up your shirt and bra so he can toy with your nipples. You wince when he squeezes the sensitive bud at first but the startling sensation soon rolls over, joining in the incredible pleasure coursing through you.
You've completely let your pride slip away from you, shaking and moaning under him. You want him to use you like a sex toy, heartless and cold, bending you any way he wants. You've completely given yourself over to him and it clearly turns him on how weak you are for him. His eyes move over your body lustfully as he exhales heavy breaths. A single bead of sweat starts to roll down from his temple and he bites his lower lip.
"fuck," he groans as he pushes deep into you once more, staying there to relish the feel of your walls clamping around him for a moment.
He blinks down at you and pulls out, turning you over on all fours. He spanks you once, hard enough for you to squeal and cower. Then his hands wrap around your hips, fingers digging deep and shoves his cock inside without pause. Your back arches, you cry out and he lets out a dark chuckle in return. Once he's got a steady rhythmn going, he pulls one of your arms back so you arch up against him. His other hand slides over your neck, keeping you locked in place as he pounds into you from behind.
"Do you like this?" he grunts in your ear, fingers tightening around your neck, "you like being a little cum slut for me? Fuck, you do, don't you?" He bites into your ear hard and you whine for him. He lets go suddenly and the next moment you feel his hand at the back of your neck pushing you down into the mattress. His other hand is still clasping your hip hard enough to leave bruises, keeping your ass up for him to fuck into. Your cries are muffled into the pillow and you can barely breathe but you don't want him to stop.
"Well," he hisses, squeezing the back of your neck viciously, "do you?"
"Yes," you moan desperately, not even sure he can understand you through the pillow, "yes, please don't stop. Fuck me."
Fingers tangle in your hair and yank your face up.
"What's that, baby girl? I can't hear you," he hums.
"Fuck me harder," you manage to say but whatever you were planning to add on is lost because he quickens his pace, snapping his hips into you mercilessly so all you can do is let out shaky moans to his rhythmn. He smacks your ass again, groaning at the way it makes you shudder and does it again, harder.
Your whole body feels full of him, everything he's done to you and is still doing to you piled up inside you threatening to spill over. You moan out his name helplessly but this only makes him go wilder. You feel your core tighten, the faliliar tingling sensation taking over your skin the moment before you explode and your mind goes deliciously blank.
It is pure extacy as he rides you through your orgasm but once the pleasure has petered out you start to struggle underneath him, your sensitive core unable to take him anymore.
He notices your struggle but doesn't stop. He merely tightens his grip on you, one hand still bruising your hip, the other pushing down your back, squishing your lungs.
"Please," you whine, "it hurts."
He bends over you. "Patience , baby," he sighs and you can tell by his tone that he's far gone. His thrusts are erratic and the pain in your core is already being replaced by a brand new wave of pleasure. He's getting louder and louder above you, clearly losing control and you can only moan with him, letting him ride out his own orgasm inside of you.
"Fuck, baby," he grunts, letting himself fall on top of you, "fuck."
"You can say that again," you groan, your whole body weak in the afterglow of everything that just happened.
He slowly pulls out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed, looking spent like a motherfucker. When his eyes meet you though, they start to glint wickedly.
"So you did want me," he grins and you roll your eyes.
"Oh fuck all the way off!" you let out, pressing a pillow into his stupidly sexy face and rolling away from him.
You may just have had the fuck of the century but that didn't mean you had to go confessing truths to a guy like Christopher Bang. Nope; cause you didn't fuck with guys like him. Well...
#bang chan#bang chan smut#smut#stray kids#stray kids smut#bang chan x reader#christopher bang#mr bang#lol#merry christmas
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Angsty au idea, five makes it back except he arrives dead and only Klaus and Ben can see him. (What happened to his body? Could be that his body got stuck between space time or he drops off as his thirteen year old sib and thats gonna traumatize the sibs probably) (Ig he could have also either died from wounds because the commision figured that he'd be turning and got strained from the time travel or an error in equations)
me, resurrecting myself over here
okay okay okay i’m going to take your idea and tweak it just a teeny tiny bit and produce:
Time travel isn’t viable.
Not the way five travels. Not without a conduit. Not when he’s essentially harnessing all of time, all of those endless possibilities, within the heart of a human being. It’s so much. It’s too much. Five died the moment he blinked away on that street outside of the Hargreeves mansion.
But Five doesn’t know that.
He doesn’t notice that no one gives him a second glance when he appears out of nowhere on those bustling streets. He just jumps again, because why not! He’s excited, he’s proving his father wrong, he’s liberated! And then.
And then.
He’s in the apocalypse.
He doesn’t notice that he can’t interact with anything until he touches his Luther’s corpse and his hand goes right through. And then, his first thought isn’t - I died. It’s - something went wrong with the last jump.
Which makes sense to him. He’s managed to get himself trapped on some kind of in-between plane. And that’s why his time travel powers aren’t working! Because they don’t work right on this plane!
Five wanders the apocalypse, and it’s a little better than in canon because he doesn’t need to eat.
(Oh, he misses eating.)
He’s a smart boy. A brilliant boy. He’s thirteen, and he thinks he’s invincible. But his powers are jumping, and he can take himself apart molecule by molecule, and eventually eventually after years and years have passed he manages to solidify his hand enough to pick something up.
The first time he turns a page in a book feels like victory.
He camps out in the destroyed remains of a library. Being solid enough to pick something up is... exhausting. He can’t do it for long periods of time. But he has a little stack of useful books, a little pile of chalk, the store mannequin he likes to talk to (he named her Dolores), and a blanket that has seen better days. He can’t exactly feel the ground when he curls up on it, and he can’t really sleep in this messed up pocket dimension or wherever he’s stuck, but he closes his eyes and pretends with all the power of the child he isn’t.
He’s in the apocalypse for a long time, trying to figure out a two-fold problem: how to get out of his pocket dimension and back into the ‘real world’ and also how to get back to his siblings when he does. He isn’t stupid. Time travel when he was capable of it was a crapshoot, he needs a way to get more exact.
And then the woman comes. Pristine and blond and carrying a suitcase. She frowns when she steps over the rubble in heels that click click click and frowns harder when she presses gloved fingers against Five’s equations written in chalk.
Five hides behind some rubble, but gets brave. Gets curious.
(Curiosity killed the cat.)
He comes out, he says “Hello?” and isn’t sure what he expected when she doesn’t even turn around. Five goes towards her with silent footsteps, footsteps that don’t disturb the dirt and chalk dust of the apocalypse because they don’t exist.
He doesn’t know who she is, but he’s curious what’s in her suitcase, and waits patiently for her to open it. He’s also planning on following her back to whatever settlement she came from? He hadn’t thought there were any people alive, but clearly she is proving him wrong.
So when she walks away, he puts his hand on her suitcase so that he doesn’t lose her, because even if she wouldn’t feel it putting his hand on her and watching it go through would be... demoralizing.
And then she opens the suitcase, and suddenly they’re somewhere else. Except not somewhere else. Its bustling with people and the woman’s heels click loudly against the tile floor and someone walks right through Five and he trails after the woman because everyone seems to give her a wide berth and being walked through sucks.
Someone addresses her. The Handler. That’s not - that’s not a people name, Five is pretty sure. That’s a title. But no one addresses the woman by name, so the Handler it is.
Five doesn’t know how old he is, but he still looks thirteen. (He doesn’t feel any different, because he isn’t. His growth is permanently stunted, he will always have died at thirteen-years-one-month-and-nine-days-old.)
So he lives at the Commission headquarters for a few years, invisible and a tiny bit mischievous. He can travel through the walls if he wants, so no door is locked to him. He makes himself a little den in one of the vents where he gets a small collection of office supplies that he steals from the assholes as punishment. He doesn’t do anything major.
He finds out what the commission does. He tags along with some assassins on occasion. He once distracted Cha-Cha by shoving a glass off a counter and breaking it to try and give a child witness time to flee.
(Hazel found her in the closet, terrified and silent with huge glassy brown eyes. He lifted a finger to his lips and quietly closed the closet door. He yelled “Clear!” to Cha-Cha, and then he and cha-cha and Five all left. Five looks at Hazel differently, after that.)
(Hazel has a soft spot for kids and bird-watching diner owners. This is important.)
Five scribbles equations on the walls of the vents. He gets more data every time he travels with the agents so he starts traveling with them a lot, even though he hates it, even though he sees so much death and destruction and he can’t stop it. He helps, sometimes. As much as he can. It’s not enough.
Five finds something, one day, when he’s wandering around. He finds a picture of Vanya, framed. He recognizes her immediately, from the back of Vanya’s book that he found in the apocalypse. They have lots of pictures of famous people around the commission, and lots of pictures of ordinary people. All of them significant in some way to the ‘preservation of the timeline’.
He goes to the Handler’s office, and among her many souvenirs he finds a cracked violin, and he remembers the background music that made up his entire childhood.
(He steals the violin and puts it in his vent nook. He flips it over and traces the tiny V that’s shallowly carved shyly into the bottom, the same one Vanya has been putting on every violin she’s ever had since she was seven-years-old, after Diego and Luther broke hers and tried to claim that it was just a random violin, not her violin and it wasn’t their fault she didn’t take care of her possessions -)
(Why is Vanya’s violin in the Handler’s collection of weapons?)
Five is aware of something. He thinks the commission has something to do with the apocalypse. They protect the timeline of whatever, right? And yet the apocalypse happened. Which means it must be planned.
Five has been trained to fight ‘villains’ since he was tiny, and he recognizes a villain when he looks at the Handler’s shiny smile and too long nails.
Vanya has to have something to do with it. Do the commission kidnap her? Do they kill her? She’s important, somehow.
(Maybe before he traveled he would have doubted that. Vanya was ordinary. Why would she be important? But Five has tagged along on so many missions where they killed perfectly ordinary people in order to spark a chain of events. In fact, it’s almost always ordinary people.)
Five solves one of his equations on a regular, ordinary day. It’s the time travel one. Not the one about his... unfortunate circumstances.
So Five finds a nice empty room, and he gives it a try. He’s not expecting much, since the pocket dimension bullshit fucks up his time travel anyway (though he can still spatial jump curiously enough) except - it works. He splits the world apart, and it’s hard. Way harder than he remembers it being.
He chalks that up to the whole pocket dimension effect.
He pushes and pushes and then - something breaks. Like ice shattering for a spring thaw, and he’s through. He’s on the ground, winded. He looks up and - it’s them. His siblings. Older than he remembers, clearly the equation wasn’t exactly right, but they’re here and they’re alive and Five can feel himself tearing up and he lets it happen because none of them can see him anyway and -
“Five?”
Two voices, overlapping. Five’s head snaps over, eyes wide with shock and alarm and -
It’s Klaus and Ben. Both staring at him, equal alarm and shock in their eyes.
“You can see me?” Five demands loudly, patting at his body frantically. Is this it? Did he kill two birds with one stone? Did coming back undo whatever bullshit he put his body through - ?
“Klaus, why would you say that.” Allison scolds automatically, “That was in poor taste.”
Five looks at her, and her eyes scan straight over him, in the way that’s been familiar for - for -
(Five didn’t bother to keep track of the years. Not when he was unaffected by time, by seasons, by weather. What was the point?)
Five’s eyes snap back to Klaus’s, who hasn’t taken his eyes away. It’s weird, Five thinks absently. His skin crawls under the attention, not used to it.
(Isn’t that strange, in a boy who used to demand attention with every breath he took? Isn’t that odd?)
There’s a hand on his arm and Five just about jumps out of his skin, whirling around and flailing and - oh look, that’s Ben on the ground, looking absolutely shocked. Five is also shocked, because he hasn’t been touched in - in forever.
“Ben?” Five half-asks, voice smaller than he’d like with a tremble that he kind of wants to kick in the gut.
“Five.” Ben responds, kind of sounding like he’s been punched in the chest. Actually he might have been, Five was never very gentle when it came to removing his limbs from others grasps.
“Well!” Klaus says loudly, making Five and Ben look over. “If the crisis is over, and we’ve lost a perfectly good fire extinguisher to the void, i’m going back inside!”
Klaus gives Ben a significant look as he turns on his heel and marches back in, and Ben winces. “Come on,” He whispers to Five, getting up and brushing himself off. “It’s better to talk when no one else is around.”
Ben hesitates, and Five hasn’t spoken to anyone but himself in a very long time. It’s been even longer since - well. And Ben looks so lost all of a sudden, that it’s really for Ben’s benefit when Five takes Ben’s hand in his own and tugs him in the direction of the mansion, “Well get a move on.”
Ben looks like he’s about to cry, looking at their joined grip, but nods and leads Five into the building. He gives Five’s hand a squeeze, as though making sure he’s real, and Five allows it gracefully.
Finally, they’re tucked into Klaus’s bedroom, Klaus sprawled across the bed and staring at Five like he’s something entirely alien.
“I don’t understand.” Five says, because the silence is getting awkward. “How come you guys can see me, but the others can’t?”
And Five is very confused when Ben’s face just - crumples. He looks like he’s about to cry. And Klaus, the contrary bastard, starts laughing, just a tiny bit hysterically.
“Take a guess shortstack.” Klaus wheezes out, “What’s my power?”
It’s seeing the dead, of course. But Five isn’t dead he’s just - in between. Right?
Besides, there’s a glaring flaw in Klaus’s theory.
“Uh, Ben can see me.” Five points out, lifting his and Ben’s conjoined hands where Ben’s grip is actually getting a little bit painful.
But isn’t a good kind of pain. Five hasn’t felt pain in - equally long.
Klaus’s laughter cuts off and Ben makes a noise like a squeaky toy that’s been stepped on. “Yeah,” Klaus says, uncharacteristically serious, “Well. You missed a lot, kiddo.”
“Ben’s not dead.” Five protests, because he’s not. Five can see him. He’s right there, and he’s never had Klaus’s powers. He turns to Ben and -
Ben envelops him in a hug, a tight one. The kind that Five would never have allowed unless absolutely necessary before he’s left, but now just sort of - melts into. It’s the pressure of it, honestly. Ben’s a good hugger.
“Five I’m so sorry.” Ben whispers, pressing his face against Five’s hair. It tickles a little, where Ben breathes out. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He pulls back, and brushes trembling fingers against Five’s hair. “Five, Five. Haven’t you - haven’t you wondered why you can’t - Five. You’re still - it’s been so long and you’ve been alone and - ” Ben breaks into sniffles.
“I’m just stuck.” Five says blankly, trying his best to process, “I’m just - I jumped wrong, and I got - I got stuck in between. I’m not - I’m not dead.”
“You’re deader than a doornail, kiddo.” Klaus interjects loudly.
Five, never one to take that lying down, untangles himself from Ben just enough to pick up a knicknack and hurls it at Klaus’s head with a scowl. “I’m not a kid.”
Except now they’re both staring at Five again, even as Klaus presses a hand against his forehead where Five had whalloped him (his aim was a good as ever, clearly).
“How -” Ben stutters, staring between Klaus and Five with alarm.
Klaus sputters as well, “What the fuck! How did you do that!”
“Well you see, Klaus.” Five says, voice toxic with the sweetness he exuded, “When someone leans down, and picks something up, they can exert a force on it. This force interacts with other forces to form the trajectory of an object - ”
“Not that!” Klaus sputters, “You picked something up!”
“Yeah, that happens sometimes.” Five says dryly.
Ben prods him in the side, making Five look over (up, if we’re being technical. Grown-up Ben is... kind of tall, actually. Compared to Five.) “How did you do that?”
And Five isn’t dead. He isn’t. But - he remembers the early days. How terrifying they were. How he couldn’t interact with the world around him at all. And if Ben is going through the same thing - “It... it took me a while to figure out. Um. It’s - it’s kind of hard to explain? Because like, when I jump it’s - it’s kind of like taking myself apart and then putting myself together somewhere else. And it’s like, like taking that feeling, except instead of putting yourself together somewhere else you like, layer it over yourself as you are? Like, making yourself denser somehow, I dunno.”
“If you can do it, then I can, too.” Ben says ferociously, a determined glint in his eyes. “I’ll finally be able to throw things at Klaus when he’s being an idiot.”
“Hey!” Klaus protests, looking very offended.
This is all very nice, but Five did come here with a mission... so he tugs at Ben’s arm. “Ben, what’s the date?”
Ben shrugs, because why should the dead care about the date? He looks at Klaus. Klaus looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“Um.” Then he brightens, “Right!” He grabs something from his pocket, it’s rectangular and flat. There were lots in the apocalypse, though Five has never figured out their functions. Except when Klaus clicks his, it lights up.
“Uh, March 24th.” Klaus says, squinting at the screen.
“What year?” Five asks, leaning forward.
“2019.” Klaus says.
“Fuck,” Five says, with feeling. “A week.”
“What’s a week?” Ben asks warily as Five flails and untangles himself from his grasp to stand up and pace.
“You don’t understand.” Five says, turning to them both, “I haven’t just - just been traveling the world as a fucking ghost. I time traveled. It worked. But - the future - ”
“Five?” Ben asks, all concern and love and it’s painful.
“The world ends in seven days.” Five tells them both, voice cracking, “There’s nothing but - but rubble and ruin and - and - ”
He remembers their bodies, remembers them splayed out in the rubble.
“You died.” Five told Klaus, “You all died. The whole world died. Everything was - ash everywhere. I was there for - for...”
“The courtyard scene.” Ben realizes, reaching out as something like comprehension dawns on his face. Five dances back a few steps, his breaths coming in funny little pants. “You came back from - the future?”
“Breath, Five.” Klaus advises, sounding a little bit worries himself.
“If I’m dead why do I need to breath?” Five snarls, and Klaus’s face drops and he curls in on himself a little looking pathetic. It’s enough for Five to toss out a mildly panicked “Sorry” because? That’s what you do right?
(Five hasn’t interacted with people who can talk back in decades and it shows.)
And Five tells them everything, in halting uncertain breaths. He winds up curled up on the bed with Ben’s arms around him, steady as a rock, while Klaus manages to somehow sit in the desk chair in a manner that makes Five a little uncertain that his brother possesses bones and ligaments.
He tells them about the future, about finding their bodies, about learning to - to condense himself just enough to interact with the world. He tells them about the woman, about the suitcase, about following her. He tells them about the Commission, and how he’s sure they have something to do with it - the Handler had Vanya’s violin -
By the time Five is finished talking, he’s exhausted. The sun has slipped below the horizon already, and he feels like dead weight in his brother’s arms. At some point, Ben had started running a hand through Five’s hair, and the repetitive motion is soothing.
“That’s - that’s a lot.” Klaus says, and something must have shocked him a little bit out of his goofy persona.
“I just wanted to go home.” Five mumbles.
“You are home.” Ben tells him, squeezing him tightly, “And we’re going to make sure the apocalypse doesn’t happen. Right, Klaus?”
Klaus shuffles, awkwardly. “I mean. I’m not exactly uh, number one choice for team apocalypse you know?”
“Ben’s number one choice for team apocalypse.” Five points out, flopping his head against Ben’s arm. “You’re an okay second choice though, I guess.”
It makes Klaus bark out a laugh, and Five can feel Ben’s snicker through his chest.
“Vanya’s gotta be on the team.” Five mumbles, loud enough for them to hear. “She’s important. Gotta make sure, make sure no one uh, no one kills her or anything.”
Ben and Klaus exchange a look over his head that he doesn’t see.
“We’ll plan everything tomorrow.” Ben tells him gently, “In the morning, okay?”
“Mmkay.” Five agrees absently.
The dead don’t sleep, but they can get - tired. Being in the living world is exhausting, and Five closes his eyes and just. Ignores the world. Just for a little while. The dead don’t dream, but that’s okay, because Five’s dreams have never been anything approaching peaceful.
Five made it back. He might be a ghost, but he made it back. An impossible goal, and he accomplished it. After that, taking on the apocalypse will be a piece of cake.
(And if Ben and Klaus think Five is going to give up on his idea to un-dead himself, they have another thing coming.)
#unviable au#tua au#Anonymous#far tua long#the umbrella academy#long post#five hargreeves#number five#klaus hargreeves#ben hargreeves#klaus ben five and vanya are going to make up team apocalypse#five might be a ghost#but he's also a poltergeist#and also thirteen#ben says 'i am your mother now' to five#to be fair to ben five is the only person he can touch and outright interact with#five CANNOT interact with people only objects#he isn't sure why#living people i mean#ben is a cuddler and five is touch starved and that's that#klaus thinks it's very very cute#but also tragic#also he keeps getting dragged into saving the world shenanigans#when he could be doing LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE#klaus might be a bit grumpy#ben is unsympathetic#five can and will throw things at klaus#vanya is just. very confused#but also happy because five is?? back?#the family bugged klaus about five's ghost for years
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danny phantom, season 3 episodes 3-6 thoughts!
see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3
-johnny was actually pretty civil with danny and left when he asked! thats nice. also, SKULKER?? HAD A FRAMED PICTURE OF EMBER?? oooo fuck wait had they established they were a Thing Before?? I dont think so. thats weird. its like that country boy/goth girl meme lmfao. I think i am going to choose to ignore this new info and pretend I didnt hear it. 100% unrelated to the jazz/ember fanart I already drew and posted....😳
-LADIES NIGHT EPISODE THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. wish it didnt really center around the guys or them being pissed at them, but. willing to bet this was written by men lol
-THEY ERASED ALL THE MEN??? meanwhile, jack and danny are fishing at. silent hill or something. im glad jack is trying to read a parenting book and making an Attempt. (theyre at lake erie, but, they made it actually eerie...thats fun)
-the girls alt outfits...cute. EMBER MADE A NEW SONG TOO!!! kinda. jazz being one of the backup singers and being AWFUL. NOOOO
-'how are we going to get kitty to blow a kiss?' 'she'll have to think there are still some males in town!' ...i dont know how to break it to you, but I dont know that a 100% het girl would wish for all men to Begone. I think. I mean im not a het or a girl so I dont really know for sure. she Is probably Bi tho. esp having the other ladies in town chanting NO MEN!!! excitedly............(then again, the kiss is to get Rid of men, so, she probably would have blown it at the ladies only if they were actively trying to attack/stop them, so...I MEAN. THE DRESSING LIKE DANNY BIT WAS SO EXTRA)
-I feel like an all female cast ep couldve been way way way way cooler than that was. like. why was it still somehow all about Men. ...anyway. (where was valerie...)
-next ep opens with the observants, and, way way more of them than I expected...existed? I mean I guess them being a council/jury of some kind is what I expected from their first appearance (bc at that time they were basically TELLING clockwork to kill danny, not asking,, so I figured they had SOME kind of authority) but. there were so many. anyway, here goes vlad! letting his own hubris go brrrr. releasing a weather ghost for political gain! #justvladthings
-okay say what you will about him (he IS an asshole) but having an umbrella with his own face on it and more prepared to share is SUPER FUNNY. and him being fanned by huge wads of money by his bodyguards. SO ineffective but so Dramatic. He UNDERSTANDS that if youre rich you need to be. you know. obnoxious and kinda eccentric about it! fuckign hate when rich people are boring about it. I would trust vlad with nothing except to not be a boring rich asshole who wears...fucking khaki or some shit. man knows his Presentation Skills. and that 'V' chair in his mayoral office. is that fucking embroidered?
-maddie get your MAN PLEEEEASSSE. IM SO EMBARRASSED FOR HER. the way jack stays simping for this man. in FRONT OF HIS WIFE!!!! ...my god its like a love triangle. jack clearly loves vlad, who loves maddie, who loves jack. jack fenton is at the very least bi, right................. this is an OBSESSION . 'THE V MAN COMETH'???? i...my god. (also, on a serious note, to have a friend THIS SUPPORTIVE...and still be SUCH A DICK TO HIM (TRYING TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS WIFE??) NOT COOL VLAD. JACK IS YOUR 1 AND /ONLY/ HYPE MAN. if someone loved and supported me THIS HARD...LIKE. CMON DUDE.
-STOMP the fucking GAS, JACK
-this would make a great shirt design, looks like a metal band design! we love The Maelstrom
-oh, so vlad did in fact get a mansion in amity park. and its purple! good color choice! not as flashy as a CASTLE or MURDER CABIN, but still pretty eccentric, which I appreciate.
-...vlad knows the difference between picasso and da vinci? in the ep last post where we were watching him fail at conquering every historical time ever he didnt seem to know history well enough to like. be effective...was vlad taking art history at college?? (was he an art MAJOR??? we never DID KNOW WHAT HE WENT TO SCHOOL FOR. I kinda assumed business because in the masters of time ep he was still rich without ghost powers so he had to have..known something about business or something, right...but also, art and or theater FITS HIS PERSONALITY. possibly also something science-y, I guess, but I always felt like he got roped into that, esp how pessimistic he was about the ghost portal in the flashbacks to college, like, i felt like he was just there for maddie and was uninterested/un-invested at the time...)
-THIS GHOST JUST ELECTROCUTED MADDIE (THE CAT) BITCH!! THATS MY FAVORITE MADDIE!!! vlad going after vortex and being ~shocked~ .....WHEN. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. THAT YOUR ACTIONS. HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!
-the way this random man with a camera sees the mayor laying in an alley covered in TRASH AND DECIDES TO TAKE A PICTURE HAHAH
*snap* this ones going in my cringe compilation!
-vlad 'if we're going to defeat vortex, we're going to have to do it together!' *immediately dips after dropping danny off in front of vortex* JKASDFHKJHJKN
-DANNY CAN DUPLICATE!!! ...he couldnt even attack with it, but he DID IT!!! INTO (4) OF HIMSELF!!! SO PROUD!!!!!!!!!!
-'THE ROLLER COASTER EMOTIONS OF A TEENAGER THREATEN MY PLANS!' ...0 self awareness of his own dramatic moodiness. incredible, how dumb this man is. its very close to circling around to endearing, if he was less of an asshole. at least its very very funny to see danny shooting him with tiny lightning bolts anytime he's even slightly irritated! vlad you should be nice to danny anyway. this is what you GET
-...making sandwiches and ice cream and playing video games with your nephew is a totally normal thing. WHY is vlad acting like this is the end of the world. if you were a GOOD UNCLE YOU WOULD ALREADY BE DOING THESE THINGS!!! bitch I make my nephew food all the time and dont forget what he does and doesnt like. if u didnt know danny didnt want tomatoes, thats on u. if u, a grown adult, are gonna piss of the 14 yr old by not letting him win, u deserve to have to pay for the arcade machines he ruins because he now has uncontrollable storm powers because YOU THREW HIM INTO A FIGHT WITH THE STORM GHOST. fuck u vlad. paypal me $400,000 while ur at it tho. (also, gamer vlad confirmed)
-VLAD CAN COOK THOUGH???! I assumed he had...people working for him that did that. I mean. billionaires usually dont do that. then again, we've only seen those vultures working for him (and I guess the dairy king was AT his old mansion, but it was never really clarified if he worked there...I think he probably just Hung Out and they Enjoyed Cheeses Together. thats what I think, I dont think a KING would be working for anyone and also the dairy king was nice <3) but then again he would be a private person and we cant have anyone accidentally finding Ghostly Things, so...still, that's hilarious. pour one out for that really cute banana split that got ruined 2 seconds later
-vlad just fucking picking danny up and THROWING HIM AT VORTEX TWICE WITHIN LIKE A MINUTE. JUST ABSOLUTELY LAUNCHING HIM. BITCH THATS MY SON BE CAREFUL!!! HES GOT ORGANS AND THINGS!!!!
-danny seeing those animal commercials and feeling sad is the biggest 2000s throwback so far. i legitimately had to change the channel or walk out of the room when those came on bc id CRY AND BE SAD ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS AFTER. fuck those commercials and fuck that IN THE ARMMMS OF AN ANGELLLL song 😭
-'vlads ego almost got the town destroyed!' yes danny thats the entire episode. the entire series anytime vlad shows up honestly. this episode was just him being really embarrassing the entire time, and, me laughing about it. 10/10 would laugh at him again
-NEXT EP WE HAVE A SHAPESHIFTING GHOST?? I've said it before but shapeshifting is the power I would want when asked those 'what superpower do you want' questions...its the Best power! this guy looks like a homestuck character. ive never read homestuck but thats the vibe
-I love every time we see tuckers family, they are by far the most functional family. and dash has a lil chihuahua!!! named pookie!!! i am crying (I've had 3 chihuahuas, so I am very biased, but...) AND HE WATCHES THE ROMANCE CHANNEL WITH POOKIE. POOKIE I WILL DIE FOR YOU YOU SWEET LITTLE BABY.
-danny can lift a bus! I shouldn't be surprised, but i am proud of my son. hes got lil kid fans. i am going to cry about this
-JAZZ KEEPS A SCRAPBOOK WITH DANNY'S LIL HEROICS AND NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS!!! we've actually seen it on her floor before, but I didnt realize it was a scrapbook!! thats sooo cute.
-...and danny has to stand there listening to his parents saying danny phantom sucks and is a 'filthy ghost' and calling him egotistical...i am once again stealing their kids!
-THIS GHOST RIPPING JAZZ'S SCRAPBOOK!!! ILL KILL YOU. SHE WORKED HARD ON THAT!!! BITCH
-yes, maddie, the one with red eyes is For Sure Actually Your Son. ignore the, red eyes... (CLEARLY she hasnt watched the other 2 eps where danny has been evil, she doesnt know red eyes= evil!!!)
-'billy fenton'.......................
-danny being stuck as phantom in his own house, no way out is a fucking NIGHTMARE. his parents pointing giant weapons against him and SHOOTING AT HIM. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE.
-NINE INCH NAILS POSTER.
-this is the most screenshot of all time
-amorpho turning into mr. lancer because hes 'someone no one will want to be around' BUT HES WRONG, I WOULD BEFRIEND AND HANG OUT WITH MR LANCER SO FAST.
-tucker dressing as danny, now I have the full Tucker set of him being sam and also being danny. also saying 'the ghost...uh...RIPPED MY FACE OFF.' and then running. SMOOTH. NOT AT ALL CONCERNING TO ANY PARENTS.
-sam accepts the toast from jack. and then 2 seconds later is like 'why am i eating this.' THIS SHOWS HUMOR IS SO UNEXPECTED SOMETIMES ITS REALLY GOOD. and then the scene after, mr lancer running into his ghost doppelganger and being like 'YOURE GORGOUS' THEN FAINTING. I AM CRYING. AND DASH FAINTING TOO.
-sam disguising herself as danny again to help tucker run from the fentons. but leaving him shirtless in the streets. incredible. 'plEASE DOnt NOTice MY FACELessNESS I MUST LIVE IN EXILE' this episode is destroying me the humor in this show is exactly my brand of corny and cheesy
-the impromtu story made up by danny and amorpho to explain stuff to the fentons. my god they are both such bad liars. but amorpho is a good egg. wish danny wouldnt have said he didnt wanna see him in town again!! I want him to be reoccurring. not that thats gonna matter since I'm almost done with the series, but the idea of this being the Only Time We See him is :(
-NEXT EP SAYS STARRING MARK HAMILL??????!!! hello ! mr . joker....mr. star wars.... I feel like I should be. idk. taking off a hat im not wearing in respect. I shouldnt be surprised tho bc hes in a lot of cartoons as a very good voice actor, and dp has already had a lot of talented ones so I've been looking out for ones I might know, but....mr. hamill....
-sam has her own greenhouse, names all the plants, and says thank you to them (in the languages from where the plants are from) whenever she harvests from them. thats SO cute. and her lil gothy lunch box...
-and danny's lil red fuzzy lined jacket!!! ive said it before but every time the characters get alt outfits im like :D
-danny has ice powers now!!! THATS WHAT FROSTBITE MEANT. HE KNEW SOMEHOW WAY BACK THEN
-THIS SHOW NEVER LETS YOU FORGET VLAD IS A BILLIONAIRE, HUH.
-danny's lil 'holy hibiscus!' first off the 50s batman swearing is hilarious. 2nd. my username is from the flower sanchoyo hibiscus, so, shoutout to ME this ep. hi :)
-EURGH UNDERGROWTH MAKING EVERYONE PLANT ZOMBIES. HIVEMIND PLOTS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME. and this dude made the city SO overtaken so quickly like how long was danny asleep?? oh god
-evil fucked up sam! now the whole trio has gone evil at some point! the voice actress did a really, really good job with making her sound like a zombie...
-frostbite's paws are so so so big compared to danny. oh my god. i want to hug the snow dog...
-the far frozen has an advanced medical stuff!!! very cool. very smart snow dogs
-im so glad danny has a friendly ghost snow dad to explain this new power and teach him!!! this is so sweet. DANNY'S GHOST SENSE WAS A PART OF HIS ICE POWER?? OOOH. COOL. we love a training montage!!!
-danny saying if he cant defeat overgrowth, that he'd want to stay with frostbite...oh my god...do you think this is the first real supportive adult figure in his life (I am NOT counting his parents because they threaten him on the daily even if they dont realize it.) I mean mr lancer is a Teacher, but he was also nice but this is different, but this is a GHOST WHO IS WILLING TO HELP HIM with his powers and also will help him when hes injured and is so so nice and comparatively so much more mature than 90% of the adults in this show!!!! god. dad frostbite is my everything.
-the framing and lighting this episode, and all the angles...they went all OUT and it looks really really good. this is my nightmare scenario, tho. like, FUCK zombies and dead city zones and hivemind shit. and using the humans as 'nutrients for the children' i am going to THROW UP.
-MALEFICENT VIBES WITH THE HORNS AND GREEN EYES! this costume kicks so much ass. sam is now mark hamills daughter, I guess.
-danny's ice powers making his eyes blue!!! thats neat. and him going for the roots underground was SO SMART. i will not stand for danny ever thinking hes stupid, hes SO smart.
almost done with the show... :"( thats a sad thought!!!
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