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thelittlestoflives · 4 months

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Thank You

soooo i sort of have a whole backstory to the Unravelling the Mystery fic and i just thought welllll i might as well post that too lol!! (i actually have lots of parts and stories)

again, very new to fic writing and i've thrown in some y/n lore in there too!! it's so vulnerable and scary to post stuff you've written (again i suck at proofreading so forgive pls)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sanji x strawhat!reader, or the story of how y/n became a strawhat and gravitated towards the chef

use of YN, afab reader

cw: stuff to do with horrible exes, forced eating of a devil fruit, being severely injured, slight angst to fluff but mostly fluff i think

wc: 2.7k

It was like a ritual. The breathing in the room evening out, slipping out from under the covers and creeping through the halls towards him. His arms were your salvation, every gentle kiss burning your skin with love, each touch so heavenly you could almost believe in a higher power.

You can barely remember how it began. It's like it's just always been this way.

But it wasn't.

Not when you were stuffed in that barrel, just you and the darkness and the splashing of the waves against the wood, the drip drip drip onto your already soaking clothes. You can't remember how you survived it, how you endured the minutes and the hours and the days you remained in there, physical wounds nowhere near the pain of the scarring on your soul.

And like words out of the holy texts, there was light. A piercing, bright light. But unlike the holy texts, soft mutters echoed in your ears.

"Shit. It's a girl."

"Dammit. So, it's not treasure?"

"She's injured."

"How long has she been in there?"

"Why does this always happen to us?"

“Get her out of there, for fuck’s sake! Why are you all just standing around?!”

Just like that, the light vanished and darkness returned.

When you came to you were in some sort of medical infirmary, the light streaming through the windows so intense that you could barely open your eyes. An assortment of smells hit your nose; disinfectant, bleach, salty sea air, and a bowl of rich chicken noodle soup that steamed as it sat on your bedside table.

Maybe that's when it started. The soup. You stared at it for god knows how long, tears streaming down your face at the act of kindness. The trauma of what you'd just been through vanished staring at that bowl, feeling the love of whoever made it poured into it. Your body had been wrapped in bandages and cleaned, and you wore soft pyjamas that weren't your own, your hair had been brushed, and someone had made you fucking chicken noodle soup.

A couple of days went by as your body slowly healed. The only interaction you had was with the ship's doctor as he tried to make you feel comfortable and safe. You didn't see any of the other crew, but each time you woke from a restless, haunted sleep, there was a steaming dish beside you. Before long, you were strong enough to walk around. Chopper held your hand as he led you above deck to meet the crew who sat around the kitchen table.

You felt shy and nervous. Sure, you'd spoken to pirates before, but always in a controlled environment, never on their turf.

But they were vastly different from the pirates you'd encountered, offering easy smiles and gentle words, coaxing you to tell them what had happened to you. You caught eyes with a man with a cigarette hanging casually out his mouth a couple of times, quickly looking away. Was this where it started?

You explained that you're a journalist on your home island. Or rather, were a journalist. Now? You were dust in the wind, not taking any sort of discernable shape, floating with no direction, no intention, nothing. You thought you had it all; a home, a job you loved, family, friends, and someone who you thought was the love of your life. In less than a week, it was gone.

You had been investigating a cult on your island and stumbled across a giant conspiracy involving the World Government. You had written a tell-all piece, ready to blow the whole damn thing wide open. But you made a mistake, you told your then-boyfriend about it. Turns out he wasn't who he said he was, he was one of them. Sent to keep an eye on the local journalists, he’d pretended to fall for you to keep you close. The cult that terrorised truth seekers from the shadowy underworld was an unstoppable and dangerous force and he was one of them.

They'd captured you, and when the darkness was lifted there was no heavenly bright light. Just a dank basement dimly lighting up your boyfriend's face, grinning from ear to ear as he told you in laborious detail what was about to happen to you. You would eat a Devil Fruit, they would drug you, and you would be forced to do their bidding. No choice, no control, this was it. They’d already done this to every other person who had been investigating them. They had a small army now, he informed you. An army of ‘nosey bastards who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into’. Despite your pleading, he laughed and said that you better get ready for what’s about to happen.

And so they did it. They had it all figured out. They forced you to eat the Devil Fruit, and as its powers flowed through your veins you realised that perhaps they didn’t have it all figured out after all. They didn’t account for the fact that you would be damned rather than be bested by a man.

Your powers erupted out of you, flowing with such a force that all you could do was let out a silent scream, as the shadows wrapped themselves around the foundations of the building they held you in and it collapsed into rubble.

An arm roughly grabbed you, pulling you out of the wreckage. It had stuffed you in a barrel, and an unfamiliar voice hissed the words: “It’s better if they think you’re dead. If you survive, never return.”

As soon as the last word of your tale left your mouth, a straw hat was placed on your head, and that’s how Luffy obtained another stray to add to his collection. You became the Strawhats’ Chronicler, your job was to forever immortalise the crew’s journey towards the One Piece and to document how Luffy became the King of the Pirates. Although it was a difficult adjustment at first, you became fast friends with the crew. Robin in particular was a huge help for you, as it was she who understood your plight the best.

Sanji kept his distance at first. You were so beautiful that he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from flirting, and that was probably the last thing you needed right now, so he resigned himself to being helpful in the background, finding out information about you from Robin and Nami and incorporating it into his cooking. But the two of you were like magnets, unexplainably drawn to one another and soon neither of you would be able to stay away.

You were ripped from your nightmare with such force that you shot upright, sweat dripping down your back. It was the same as always, but tonight you didn’t want to wake up Robin with your tears.

And that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen, face-to-face with a certain chef. He tried not to make a fuss as he saw your hunched, small frame in the doorway, tear-stained cheeks and sleepy eyes. Really, he did. But he’s only a man, after all. He gave you a warm hug and sat you down, making his own special sleepy tea (“I promise you, you will be knocked out after this. No bad dreams for our sweet Chronicler!”).

“I meant to say thank you,” you said quietly as you sipped your tea.

He arched an eyebrow, a gentle blush on his cheeks. “For?”

“The food. When I was in the infirmary, your food made me feel…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed.

“Made you feel what?”

You look up at him, an amused expression on his face.

“Your chicken noodle soup made me cry,” you admit softly. “It was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and it’s my comfort food. And I cried. I was so touched that I forgot everything else. I can’t thank you enough for that. I could’ve lost my mind, but that small act grounded me.”

The blush was no longer gentle but furious as his eyes diverted from your face. “Ah. Well, it’s an honour to cook for a pretty girl like you, and even more so that it makes you feel something. So really, I should thank you for your high praises.”

Your mouth twitched into a smile. “No, thank you!”

His mouth echoed yours. “No, no, thank you!”

And you continued like that, thanking each other more and more dramatically through laughs. The silliness wore off, and Sanji’s face turned slightly more serious.

“Look, I wanted to say something to you too,” he began. “I’m sorry that your ex betrayed you like that. No beautiful lady should ever have to suffer at the hands of a man, much less a man who should love her.”

You blink, suddenly remembering why it was you were here in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you say with a small shrug. “Well, no, it’s not okay but… I dunno. What else can I say? ‘My ex gave me up to an evil cult and altered my life forever and because of him my family think I’m dead and I didn’t even get the t-shirt’? I appreciate that though. I appreciate all of you.”

He blew air out of his nose softly as you tried to make light of what was clearly a horrific situation.

“Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” “Thank you, Sanji, same goes for you,” you smile.

He grins back. “No, no, no. Thank you!”

You laugh and lightly hit his arm. “Cut it out or we’ll be here all night!”

His grin widens. “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do.”

And maybe that’s where it starts. Those late nights in the kitchen when you both couldn’t sleep, sharing easy conversations and trying to make the other laugh. Warm mugs of tea and knees touching each other under the table. A bubble you created with just the two of you, a sacred space, with none the wiser as to these secret meetings of yours.

It would become routine for a couple of weeks. The nightmares jolt you awake, so you pad through to the kitchen for tea, smiles, and chats.

“You know, I reckon you’re the beating heart of this crew,” you say as you blow on your tea to cool it down.

Sanji scoffs in derision.

“No, I’m serious! If Luffy is the soul, then you’re the heart. I see everything you do for the crew, Sanj. You’ve got a kind soul.”

You wished you could frame the look on his face to cherish forever. A mix of gratitude, embarrassment, confusion, denial, and something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

“In saying that,” you continue, sipping on the now-cool beverage. “You look tired. If you’re looking after everyone else, who’s looking after you?”

He froze.

Your eyes are trained on his. “Look, there’s a reason we’re both here in the dead of night. You can’t sleep either, can you?”

He looks down.

“Let me in, Sanj. Let me look after you.”

And he does. He tells you everything, and now the bond runs so deep you’re afraid. After all, the last person you fell in love with lied about it and broke your heart. You couldn’t take much more. But this was different, somehow.

Maybe it started the first night you slept in his arms.

It was just a normal night. As usual, a nightmare ripped you from sleep. It was a particularly bad one this time, your cheeks wet with tears as you made your way to the kitchen. But when you got there, the lights were off. Panic clawed up through your chest. You’d come to rely upon the chef in the dead of night, and now that he wasn’t here, you were scared to face your demons alone. So, fuck it, you thought. I’ll just go to him.

The men’s quarters were loud. Zoro’s snores cracked through the room, and general grunts and smells and sleepy noises were prevalent, but it didn’t matter. He was there, and he would make you feel okay again.

And once you’d crawled in beside him, and his arms automatically wrapped around you, you knew that there was no going back. You woke up in your own bed, having slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

That night when you met in the kitchen, there was a slight awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.

He cleared his throat. “Did you, uh, did you sleep okay last night?”

“I did. Best I have in a while, really. I’m so sorry if I overstepped or-”

“No! No, I’m sorry for not being here at our usual time-”

“Don’t be stupid!”

“Thank you for-”

You both stopped and he cleared his throat again, cheeks bright red.

“Well, honestly? That’s the best I’ve slept in a while too. So, thanks. And I…” He paused as if building up some courage. “I wondered if you would maybe want to… Do it again sometime. But, you don’t have to and I don’t want you to feel like I’m coming on to you because I know you don’t want, like, romance or anything because of the situation with your ex and-” He began to ramble anxiously, bringing a small smile to your lips.

“Sanji, Sanji, stop! It’s okay! I… I would like that a lot. And so thank you.”

He stopped blabbering and clasped his hands together. “Really?” There was a sparkle in his eyes.

“Really,” you nodded.

You both built a little routine together. If Sanji wasn’t already in the kitchen, then you’d go to him. Otherwise, you’d meet in the kitchen for your cup of tea, before retiring to his hammock in the men’s quarters. The noises of the sleeping crew around you didn’t bother you at all as you lay entwined in Sanji’s long arms.

One night, you made your way into the kitchen and stopped quietly in the doorway. Sanji had fallen asleep at the table waiting for you. You took in his sleeping figure, the way his sleep shirt clung to his arms and revealed some of his chest. His face was relaxed and peaceful, and god, was it beautiful. Shit, you thought. I’m in way too deep now.

You gently woke him up, and the look in his eyes when he saw your face sent your stomach dropping and mind shortcircuiting.

“It’s you,” he whispered.

You nodded. “It’s me, Sanj. Let’s go to bed, hmm?”

He had that look on his face again, the one from before when you couldn’t figure it out. But now? Now you knew what it was. It was love. It was adoration. It was ‘you’re my comfort, my safety, you feel like home and I’m at peace’. He stood up and pulled you to his chest, groaning softly as he rested his chin on top of your head. You looked up at him, fondness in your eyes.

“Sanj?” You whispered.

“Yes, my darling YN?” His sleepy voice and eyes were too much. You stood up on your tiptoes and pressed a soft, swift kiss to his lips.

He stiffened, eyes wide.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

You nodded.

His face brightened and burst into a lovesick grin, one hand settling at your waist, the other snaking up to hold the back of your head. He nudged his nose against yours as your lips met, the world melting around you both. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I want to promise something to you right now,” he murmured. “I promise to protect you, to keep you safe, I promise I will never do anything that could possibly hurt you, and I will hunt down anyone who does. Thank you, YN, for showing me what love could be.”

“No, Sanj… Thank you for showing me.”

His eyes were brimming with tears too, but he laughed softly, unable to resist the urge to say:

“No, no. Thank you.”

And with that, you went to the safety of Sanji’s hammock, entangled with one another as you pressed burning kisses to each others’ skin, his heavenly touch making you forget what life was like without him. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you know this will never end.

#one piece #sanji oneshot #sanji drabble #sanji x reader #sanji x yn #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x you #op x reader #one piece x reader #strawhat reader #vinsmoke sanji x yn #vinsmoke sanji #my writing

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ivyjupiterwrites · 3 months

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TW: Slight mentions of blood & violence

"Roach, I need to use your phone." Panicking the sgt handed his phone over and sat there while Ghost did what he needed to. As the seconds lurched forward, he couldn't help feeling that Ghost was doing more than just 'looking at something'. And much to his dismay, of course he was correct.

(I like to think of it like when your Dad asks for your phone 'to do something' then just goes on a lil cruise, cause privacy is irrelevant.)

"What the fucking hell are these pictures?" well that certainly wasn't the first thing Roach had been expecting him to dig up, but they were just hanging out in his gallery.

Ah yes.

The pictures.

The ones he had taken--of you, for you, at your request because you were doing something on the side. That being selling photos and videos to whom he could only assume were weirdos--considering how much they paid to see you drizzled in fake blood with skimpy lingerie.

"Ummm they're pictures of (y/n)?" Was Roach's weakly uttered response, not really knowing what else to say. There wasn't anything more in his mind that could be said.

"No shite." Ghost spat in return, he could blatantly see that--he had been wondering more so about the nature of the photos.

"Listen," explaining the best he could, Roach motioned toward his phone that was still firmly grasped in Ghosts hand. "She called me up, she asked me to come over and take photos. It ended up being this." he gestured to you, half undressed in a patch of greenery with fake blood squirted all over you. "And now that you've reminded me, I have to send those to her and delete them. They keep jump scaring me every time I open my damned camera roll--and giving me nightmares."

"What're they for?" when Ghost didn't hand the phone back, Roach begun to internally chuckling to himself. While only posing quite small questions, Roach knew when his lieutenant was intrigued.

Even if it was the slightest bit.

Ghost was a strictly need to know kind of man, if he didn't want to know, he wouldn't of asked. That was the basis he went off of for nearly everything, and it made life much easier for Roach.

Ghost was a man of pure minimalism. Conversation or otherwise.

"Well look who's a curious lil kitty cat~" not sharing the same regard for his teasing humour, Roach carried on as he received a rather nasty glower. "it's some sorta side thing she does, for like cults and stuff she gives them photos...Ya know, I'm not really totally all that sure, she just promised they paid well. That I would be compensated for my time served."

"I see." Was his superiors response, then Ghost was quiet. Staring down at one of your pictures for a thoughtful moment before flipping through a few more. "If I told you I could make you go missing, how scared would you be?"

"Very. And would 110% believe you. Why?" Eyes flickering around nervously, Roach then lurched back from the darkly brooding man dramatically. "Oh Jesus... You've already decided haven't you?--I'm already dead aren't I?"

"No." He shook his head, "not yet."

"Anything I can do for you to stay on the particularly alive side of life?" The sgt offered in consolation, if there were anyway to sweeten the deal he'd do it.

(He's picturing how he's seen Ghost do shit like this and S W E A T I N G.)

"Send me these," Ghost handed him back his phone as nonchalantly as possible; yet the smouldering rage in his brown eyes that sent a polar shiver down Roach's spine suggested otherwise. "and never tell a damn soul about it--including (y/n)."

"Sir yessir." Saluting him Roach hustled away from the scarier than hell lieutenant, snickering to himself while he sent Ghost the requested goods.

Of course this would be his thing.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #gary roach sanderson #cod 141 #141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #mw2 141 #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #roach cod #tf141 #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader

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silkscream · 2 years

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𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 (𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭)

ੈ✩ pairing: eddie munson x reader

ੈ✩ summary: still you sit with him in a church parking lot, acting like you’re not falling for it. (until you do.)

ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, slight dacryphilia, drug use, (protected) high sex, car sex, a little blood, not edited

ੈ✩ wc: 4.6k

Hawkins was always unpredictable – you knew this – from rumors of Satanic rituals to alien conspiracies to government experiments on children. Tonight, however, it's the weather that annoys you, the inklings of autumn teasing your bare legs despite the fact that it’s the middle of July. It doesn’t particularly help that the midnight rendezvous you’re making tonight is taking place in a church parking lot, of all places. The cool, late summer breeze seems to trickle into your pores to make your insides shudder. Sighing, you walk forwards, eyes scanning the stained glass windows high above you.

When you open the door to Eddie Munson’s striped van, he salutes you with two fingers nestling a Marlboro red. With something in between a sarcastic smile and a grimace, you return the gesture.

“Munson.”

“Y/L/N,” he nods. You roll your eyes as you shut the door behind you. With an exhale, you pick the skin of your cuticles until it stings, wincing when the skin breaks.

Uncharacteristically, Eddie’s radio plays a low reverberated hum of dream-pop chords from the speakers. When you turn the knob of the stereo, you can’t help but grin when you hear Cocteau Twins’ “Sugar Hiccup”, Elizabeth Fraser’s nonsensical drawl lowering your blood pressure instantly.

“Thought you didn’t like this shit. When I put this on you were like, what’s the point of writing a song that’s fuckin’ unintelligible?” you tease, poking Eddie’s arm.

“I still think that,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s your cassette. You left it here.”

“And you’re still listening to it.”

“Yeah, whatever, princess.”

You’d never admit that maybe you left your cassette in his van on purpose, just so you could have a possible excuse to see him again. Your love-hate relationship with Eddie manifested after Chrissy’s death – you and Hawkin’s notorious alleged cult leader formed an unlikely friendship after you’d testified in court about Chrissy’s whereabouts. You weren’t necessarily her best friend during senior year – Hell, no one would believe you even if you claimed that – but you had gotten close with the blonde when you’d tutored her. Besides Eddie, you were the only one who knew she was interested in drugs to escape her weird spouts of psychosis.

Now, a year later, you might call Eddie a friend, if smoking together and listening to music in his van every few months counts as a friendship.

“So, Sativa or Indica? I’m also out of my usual shit because that, uh, Valley dude that’s friends with Byers bought out everything that was good. So lucky for you, I could do fifteen for an eighth instead of–”

“I’m not here for weed,” you interrupt.

To your surprise, Eddie laughs. The bastard laughs at you.

“What?” you cinch your brows.

“I’m not selling to you if it isn’t weed.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because.”

“Because, why, Manson?”

Eddie sighs with defeat and looks everywhere that isn’t your direction. You can tell that you’d struck a nerve from how his jaw locks, a small vein in his neck pulsing just slightly. You feel guilty immediately. “Told you not to fuckin’ call me that.”

“S’a joke, Christ. No one actually thinks you’re a cult leader, y’know,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“Half this town still does. Even after I got acquitted,” Eddie continues.

“You won’t sell to me because of Chrissy, isn’t it?”

He stays quiet.

“Eddie.”

“I just don’t want you messing around with that stuff, okay?”

“Have you gone Catholic or something? How incredibly chauvinist of you. Is that why we’re parked in front of a fucking church?”

You hate that your face is turning warm from your boiling blood – of all people, how could Eddie fucking Munson be so evangelical about drug use when he was the one providing for half of Hawkins High? The thought of him viewing you as any sort of damsel made you livid. As if you weren’t dealing with a shitshow of a summer already.

He twiddles his silver-lined fingers, thumb rubbing anxiously over the pendant of a skull on his middle finger. It isn’t that he has a new moral superiority over your drug habits, but lately, the nightmares have started back up again, and every night when he goes to sleep, Chrissy Cunningham sits in the passenger seat where you are currently. Sometimes she overdoses on K, sometimes Vecna gets her before Eddie even makes the right turn to enter his trailer park. Sometimes when Eddie claps his hands in front of Chrissy’s gray eyes, he blinks once, and to his horror, you’re in her place.

Your hand grasps the door handle next to you. “Okay. Fine. I can get what I want from someone else–”

Before you open the door fully, Eddie’s quick to hunch over you and shut the door with an amount of aggression that surprises you. For a moment, you think that he glances at your quivering lip.

“Don’t,” he warns. “Another time, okay? I’ll give you whatever, just not now. Just do it when I’m around, okay? For your own damn safety.”

You stare at him blankly. “Sativa.”

You watch as he climbs dextrously over his seat to get to the back of the van, which is full of blankets and pillows – a new addition from the last time you’d been in it.

“You sleeping in your car or something?” you raise a brow as you watch him, cheek leaning on the headrest of your seat.

“Henderson’s idea. We went to a drive-in the other night,” he murmurs mindlessly. “Pretty cozy, actually. You think I could pass as a Woodstock hippie with this set-up?”

“Totally,” you utter.

It’s strange how you’d known the boy for a little over a year – really known him, at least, compared to sharing physics senior year with him – and yet watching him lick his rolling papers as your favorite album plays feels more intimate than it ever has. The way Eddie’s slightly shrunken Hellfire Club shirt reveals his dark happy trail makes you feel like a lecherous predator just for watching. When your eyes fall on the array of bats on his forearm, he brings you back to Earth as quickly as you’d left it.

“You wanna smoke or not?”

“Mhm.” You nearly trip on your way to the back of the van. So much for meticulousness. Cross-legged and sweating slightly from the stuffiness of the vehicle, you lean against pillows that are propped up against the side door.

He notices your scent immediately as you move – amber incense and something woodsy. He always wonders why you’re still so timid after all these encounters, but he knows that once you take the first hit of the joint you’ll melt like an Indiana sunset. It isn’t that Eddie likes you better that way, it’s just that he likes the way your laugh sounds. And you tend to do it more when you’re high.

He hands you the finished joint and lights it for you. You inhale and hold the smoke in your lungs with a bated breath, exhaling a cloud towards Eddie’s star-stricken face. It’s there again, that small giggle coming from your mouth that makes something bloom in his chest more than he’d like to admit.

“What’re you laughing at, raccoon eyes?” he smirks.

“Nothing,” you stifle a laugh. “Just… the fairy lights make a nice touch.”

You point to the battery-powered string of lights strewn behind Eddie, dangling Draculas illuminated by a dull yellow.

“You’d look way hotter with raccoon eyes. Isn’t that what those KISS guys do?”

“I’m already hot,” Eddie protests.

“Okay, but how ‘bout this—“ you rummage through your bag for your charcoal-black eyeliner. Before you can even point it toward the boy’s face, he flinches, swatting your hands away.

“Oh come on, pretty boy!” you whine.

“You’re gonna poke my eye out with that thing!”

“I won’t!”

The two of you wrestle your arms together, with him gripping your wrist tightly whenever you try to touch his face. When he squeezes your forearm with his other hand, you forget how to breathe.

“Okay, okay, fine.”

“Thank you,” you coo, clasping your hands together in excitement.

You have the cadence of a child, a feral glint in your eyes as your mouth turns into a grin full of wolf teeth. He only lets you because he wants to be close to you, wants your soft hands on his face. It’s a rarity for him, these fleeting touches – but now that Eddie’s fully high, he craves them like a child fiending for candy. There were other times like now, times when your girlish whimsy would have you combing your fingers through his hair absentmindedly and innocently until you snapped to your senses. Eddie always hated when that happened.

He lies back lazily against the pillows, bare knees spread so that you can get closer to him. The look on his face is deadpan, feigning annoyance and eyelids fluttering once you so as much as attempt to draw a black line under his bottom lashes.

“Hold still!”

“Make me.”

Your eyelashes flutter in rapid succession at his declaration, eyes narrowing with a hint of a smirk on your lips as you combat his challenging gaze. You’re not giving in. Not yet, at least.

“Shut up.”

It takes a few minutes, but the results are worth it. Eddie blinks at you with his brown doe eyes, which look even bigger with the smudged black eyeliner you’ve managed to get on him.

“Am I as fuckable as Bowie now?”

“No one is as fuckable as Bowie. Not even you,” you snort, taking another hit from the joint.

“So you agree. You think I’m fuckable.”

You give him a knowing look, small smile hiding from the debauched imagery creeping into your mind. You’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think about him that way, but you’d rather die than tell him that.

He takes the joint out of your mouth, which is now slightly ajar and salivating as you scan his face and the smallest hint of a tattoo adorning his collarbone.

“Speaking of fucking, uh, Gareth has, like, a level five crush on you. Did y’know that?”

“Please. He makes it incredibly obvious.”

“You gonna go for it?” You notice the way he licks his lips in anticipation of your answer. You smile and shake your head.

“Aw, c’mon! Kid’s still a virgin.”

“Oh, so you wanna pimp me out?“

“I didn’t say—”

“Mhmm. Right.”

The joint’s nearly done when Eddie realizes he’s been staring at your face like the way someone examines a painting – really looks at it – for the first time. Reveling in all the details – the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips, your huge pupils blinking right back at him.

“What would it take for you to fuck Gareth?” Eddie asks. His voice is suddenly lower, the raspy husk from his voice muddling away from clarity.

“Christ, you’re really wingmanning so hard right now. Okay, so theoretically, I fuck him. What else? You gonna film it, too?” you slur.

It’s him who’s quiet now. Eddie doesn’t want you to notice his flushed face, which he’s claiming in his head to be from the summer heat and lack of air conditioning in his car, but he’s also fully aware that this is one of the cooler nights in July. But why does he feel like he’s fucking sweating? And God, the imagery of you actually fucking Gareth is pervading his brain right now, short-circuiting it in a way that makes him feel embarrassed, and he thinks that maybe he should count to ten and stare out the window so that he can —

“Earth to Edward,” you snap at him with your middle finger and thumb.

It’s Eddie’s turn to blink rapidly, averting his eyes. He rubs his temple like he has to contain a headache, but really, it’s dizzying lust that feels out of place. Especially with you right beside him. You’d never think that Eddie Munson was one to be shy around you, of all people, if at all. But between the sexual innuendos and the stupid banter, it’s like you’re seeing right through him. Needless to say, he doesn’t know how to hide his emotions at the moment. Certainly not when he’s high as a kite.

You think that maybe if you move just a few inches, something inside you could explode or bloom or coalesce completely. Any closer to Eddie Munson’s face and you’d be redistributing matter without a care in a world, but the cautious nature inside you screams instead. God, didn’t you arrive with a chill down your spine from the dip in temperature? Yet now, your synapses are on fire. All without being touched.

Your body seems to move in its own volition, but slowly. A hand combed through dark, frizzy locks. Your fingers caressing the length of his jaw. Your breath haphazard like you’re splayed out like a desperate, dying animal with your insides on display.

It’s like a glass breaks when it happens. You aren’t even aware of who does it first.

You take surprise in the confidence of your body pinning his down while his tongue explores the inside of your mouth, his hands gripping the exposed flesh above your shorts. You inhale sharply like you’re drowning until what comes out of your mouth descends into something like a laugh that’s swallowed by him.

Your desire is white-hot, blinding. You don’t realize how deeply you’ve got your claws into Eddie Munson’s shoulders until he lifts you up a little higher so that you’re properly straddling him, the warmth of your core pulsating from the severity of every sensation hitting your neurons. This weed is fucking strong, you think, with your brain blissed out to oblivion.

Your bliss is interrupted when he curses into your mouth and flinches slightly, pulling away from you with wide eyes.

“You bit me,” he chuckles lowly, wiping the crimson off his bottom lip.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I– that’s not something I do, um. I think I got carried away.”

“It was hot.”

Before you can respond, he locks his lips with yours again, this time grabbing the back of your neck with his strong, slender fingers. It’s messy, his newfound frenetic desire for you that had been bubbling up in his system for months and months, only to overflow the moment you got into the backseat of his van tonight.

He pulls away, a trail of saliva following his mouth as he grins. You’re too busy looking at him like you’re in a trance to think about anything else, certainly not when his silver-adorned fingers are touching the base of your throat.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he rasps.

“Tell me more,” you tease, though whatever provocation you’re going for is swapped for vulnerability the moment Eddie’s mouth descends down your throat and latches onto your exposed collarbone, teeth and all.

“So fucking hot… and sexy… and… shit,” he murmurs as he suckles lovebites on the curve of your shoulder. “Gareth’s gonna be fucking pissed at me when he finds out.”

You’re about to reply, make something of a self-deprecating joke to distract yourself from the fact that you’re sinking right under Eddie’s spell, but of course, the bastard sucks into your skin in a way that makes you glitch. You can’t even speak – all the sensations you feel from his mouth on your collarbone alone elicits a moan. He smirks into your skin.

The ache in your body is so viciously raw that you’re dreading the moment everything bursts. You realize you’re high enough that your usual fight or flight dissipates the moment you feel Eddie’s warm tongue on the side of your jaw.

Every touch feels electric. Your body is a forest fire.

Your blood is pumping hard, hot, and the way Eddie pulls back to admire the pinkish marks on your neck makes you nearly carnivorous with want.

“I need more, Eddie.”

More. Every cell in Eddie’s body screams more. He’s been teasing you, yes, but he doesn’t realize how onboard he is with more until he sees the salacious lust on your face, just barely muted by your virtuous eyes. He wants to devour you, he thinks. He doesn’t know that you were the one sharpening your fangs first.

“Whatever you want. Tell me.”

“Touch me.”

“Gotta be more specific, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you desperately mewl, burying your face into his shoulder. “Anywhere. Everywhere. I just need you.”

It almost sounds like a prayer, which nearly causes Eddie’s brain to malfunction from his disbelief. You – who’s always sarcastic, giving him the hardest time in a way that makes him want you more – begging for him as you grind against his lap. He must’ve died and gone to heaven.

“You’re sure about this?” Eddie murmurs. “You’re not too high, right?”

“I’m sure,” you huff, pouting. “You’re taking too fuckin’ long.”

He chuckles, grasping your waist with his hands as he grins at you with admiration. Your big moon eyes, your delicateness on top of him – all of it makes him fucking insatiable and he hasn’t even had a piece of you yet.

“Let’s take these off then,” he titillates, hands eager in pulling off your shorts. You beat him to it with such quickness that he has to double-take when he realizes you’ve so swiftly discarded your t-shirt as well, leaving you in your black lacy bra.

“Oh, shit, for me?” His hands touch the sides of your bra, fingers dancing around the clasp on your back.

“No, y’just got fucking lucky tonight. Your turn now.” Your hands roam the length of his toned stomach, which was already on full display from his Hellfire shirt that nearly served as a crop top. In a frenzy, Eddie discards both his shirt and his cutoffs, and before you can even get a word in about the growing length underneath you, his mouth is on yours again.

He tastes like weed and cigarettes and cinnamon. You love him like this – desperate and frantic, eager to have his skin flush with yours. His kisses only exacerbate in intensity as you take the liberty to reach into his boxers, your hand palming his shaft with such a fervor that it makes him groan.

Eddie’s quick to match your movements, fingers already clumsily coaxing themselves into your wet cunt while the two of you kiss like you’re fighting, like you’re competing for who gets the next bruise.

You don’t even notice that he’s unhooked your bra until he stops his frantic kissing to suck on your nipple. You moan at the sensation, throat raw from all the smoking. Your mouth keeps letting out sounds that you can’t even recognize as yourself. There’s no time to react considering the depth in which Eddie’s fingers are inside of you, rubbing along your spongy walls until your legs start to vibrate.

He’s so aggressive with his hands like he’s trying to prove something. The heat in your core that brews begins to thunder into something unfamiliar. It’s too good, this electric feel, and it doesn’t help that the skin above your breasts is starting to flame a livid red just from Eddie’s lovebites.

He pulls his nipple from your mouth as he strokes your insides harder, head tilting curiously as he watches the expressions on your face change like a supercut. He knows you’re nearly there from the sudden entropy of your body.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it. You’re almost there, right?”

“Y-yes,” you whine.

“Good girl. Cum for me, okay?”

“J-just like… that… oh my god…. oh my god,” you stutter. “Eddie, fuck!”

You dip into convulsion as you screw your eyes shut – the phosphenes in the pitch-black of your vision exploding like fireworks. The high takes over you like a tidal wave until you’re out of breath, chest heaving up and down. You have to physically remove his hand just so you can even attempt to calm down.

“You look so fucking good when you’re cumming for me, Jesus Christ.”

He watches you with a doe-eyed expression, his hand in yours as you raise it to fit into your mouth. Delicately, you lick off your own taste. Just from watching that, Eddie feels like he might cum soon.

Without a warning, you decide the next order of operations, pussy landing flush against Eddie’s hard cock softly and grinding against his length.

“Jesus,” he croaks, eyes lulled in an opium trance as you kiss the swell of his throat. He can barely focus – barely misses wherever the fuck those extra condoms are in his bag – shit, where were they?

After a blind rummaging with you still on top of him, he finds one and rips the foil from his teeth.

“This is– you’re sure?” he checks in with you cautiously, his face florid and hot with sudden apprehension as if you aren’t sliding your wet cunt against his lap at this very second. You nod as you twirl a curly strand of his hair between your fingertips and he rolls the condom on.

As you lower yourself, he groans in tandem with your borderline pornographic moans, and slowly, you grind against him.

“Oh, my God…” you moan. The thickness of him seems to be hitting every sensitive spot inside you to the point of you nearly seeing stars. Your iron grip extends to your claws as you dig into the bare flesh of Eddie’s shoulder blades, which flex slightly from the way he moves your body on top of his with his strong hands. Throughout your desperate mewling, he guides you on his lap while you cry out. He covers your mouth with his palm after a succession of your cries.

You gasp like a wild animal struggling despite your fervent stamina. You ride him like you’re trying to dominate him, but the sensitivity of your wet cunt nearly blows you overboard. At this point, you’re a lost cause until he grips your thighs tightly as you hover above him slack-jawed and soft headed.

Another mewl and Eddie thinks he might just come undone underneath you – but he doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction.

Within seconds, he switches positions, has you pinned against the blankets and pillows flat down so that he’s on top of you. You’d let him smother you if he could.

Eddie thrusts into you as his hands latch onto your shoulders. The sweat of his brow drips down the side of his face, adorning the glow radiating through him. After a slight sweep of his long curls, he has his hands tangled in your hair as he fucks into you, thrusting slowly but fully.

“Eddie, fuck!”

“Shit, am I hurting you?” he asks you with frantic concern. He wipes a finger down the length of your cheek to chase away a stray tear. “I can be more gentle.”

“I like when it hurts,” you reply in a rushed manner. “Fucking… need you.”

With that encouragement, Eddie’s hips snap back to yours. He grunts with an animalistic inflection, head bowing into your shoulder as he picks up his pace.

“So fucking– tight,” he exhales. “Fuck. God, you’re so– fucking—”

Tears start springing from your eyes. The weed makes your body infinitely more sensitive, and now that he’s finally inside of you, you feel like you’re in the fucking rapture.

Even from all the overwhelming pressure, you beg for more just from your rapacious movements, arms crossed over his back with your nails digging into his flesh.

He pouts when he sees your tears, wipes them off gently with the pads of your fingertips but your makeup smudges like a pornstar’s. With a grin, he peppers you with chaste kisses across your teeth despite the depravity happening below each of your hips, a burning candle on both ends as he hikes up your leg with your knee swung over his arm to thrust into you at a deeper angle. The blurred charcoal under your waterline makes you look gorgeous, he thinks, like an angel fallen out of heaven, Lilith banished from the Garden of Eden.

“It’s too much,” you gasp, eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.

“You wanna stop?”

“No.”

He chuckles at that, sloppily kissing you down your chest. He has the sudden urge to turn you over, take you the way he wants, but the blackened tears on your cheeks make him want to treat you delicately despite the ravenousness of how he’s currently ramming into you. You insist on more, begging through hushed whimpers and limbs lumbering like a ragdoll’s. Just from seeing your wanton face, he thinks that this is intimacy, this is real, and having you in any other way would somehow break the spell. He needs to hold you this close and flush to his chest so you don’t disappear.

“Eddie–” you choke out.

“Mm?”

“Wanna be– on top,” you say breathlessly, and he slows the roll of your hips at the same time your hiccuping moans descend into smaller gasps. With his hands on your hips still, he sits up and leans backward while you stumble on top of his, knees nearly giving out because of how your legs feel like jelly.

God, your thighs are burning just a bit, but the delicious roll of your hips has his cock hitting your g-spot so much deeper than before – as if that was even possible.

“Holy shit,” Eddie groans, jaw slack with saliva glistening on the fullness of his bottom lip.

“S’feel good?”

“Don’t– don’t stop, baby,” he rasps. It’s him who’s begging now, and Christ, he can’t get a break. Not when you’re hovering above him, riding his cock like that, tits bouncing right in front of him. He reaches out of you, massages your nipple with his thumb until his palm cradles your neck delicately.

Experimentally, he slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark, and your sharp-toothed grin has him falling apart. Eddie’s brain is a total haze, neurons firing and melting with the soundtrack of Cocteau Twins still ringing through his ears with honey-dripping reverb. He’ll have to listen to the record again when he’s alone later, high and horny with thoughts of you. Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to get you out of his head after tonight.

He’s teetering on the brink of orgasm, especially when your lewd moans are getting louder with the aggressive way you’re grinding against him, thick cock hitting the hot spot inside your walls repeatedly until something blooms in your stomach.

“‘m s’close, Eds–”

“Keep going, baby, you got it,” Eddie praises. “Let go for me.”

Your thighs are burning still, heedless now as the elastic inside your core finally breaks. He groans when he feels your walls tighten around him and within seconds, he whimpers – actually whimpers – as he floods you. The frenzied sensation of your shared orgasm blend together, an amalgam of hot wetness, of stomach butterflies wielding pickaxes, of dripping, molten desire.

He softens inside of you and with an exhale, he touches your face just to remind himself that you’re real. With a smile, you kiss his knuckles, his rings, his fingertips, until you suck on his thumb gently.

“Fuck, y’gonna make me hard again,” Eddie indicts, mouth raw and red from all of your lovebites.

“Is it ‘cause you made me cry?” you tease. “Sick fuck.”

“No, ‘cause you’re fuckin’ you,” he grumbles. “Kinda wanna keep you here forever, now.”

“That’s a completely normal thing for someone who’s not a cult leader to say,” you chuckle, lowering yourself down to Earth as your body fits into his like the missing puzzle piece. As you listen to the throes of his rapid heartbeat, his hair tickles your cheek softly.

“I think you’re the cult leader. Y’put subliminals in that cassette, yeah? Got me all high to seduce me?” His black-rimmed eyes are wide, eyebrows raised as he taps your nose playfully.

“You fucking wish, Munson.”

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn smut

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eaglyn · 8 months

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Because you stuck around | Gojo Satoru x reader college au

Summary: you had been Gojo's only die-hard loyal friend in his so far twenty years of life, but it took saving him from a quarter-life crisis for him to finally admit to you just how precious you were to him Not proofread bc we're lazy Decided to switch it up a little from the usual Genshin stuff

You first met the man child when he was only a child, as your parents were great friends of his parents, which meant you two would get a whole lot of play dates as kids.

Whenever he looked into your eyes even back then, you felt like you were frozen in place by those radiant blues. There was also something about the way he looked at you, and only you. For a while you felt as if you weren't the only one who's stomach filled with butterflies when you gazed at one another.

Eventually, he got older and achieved a great amount of fame via all his amazing accomplishments, and also good looks. While he never had a weird phase in puberty regarding looks, he definitely did have a personality change.

All the praise went to his head, so much so that whenever he talked to you, it was always just about how awesome he was. In middle school, he had his own little cult, or gang of devoted followers, who by themselves could be considered the cool kids, but only when Satoru wasn't around.

He turned into one of the most insufferable of egotistical bullies, but he didn't bully you, and you stuck around. You always did.

In high school, you two went to separate high schools that were on the same street, right across from one another. Girls from your school would often sneak into his school during lunch break just to get a glimpse of him in the flesh, while you just rolled your eyes at the whole situation.

Still, you were there if he ever needed to boast about all the love letters he had received that week, or tell someone about all the details of his new girlfriend. You stuck around, even though it was a type of thankless devotion. It was a well known fact that you were his only long time good friend, so while many girls envied you and stared daggers at you in the halls or on the streets, other girls did anything they could to be friends with you, just to get information about Satoru.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit happy with your popularity.

Things changed when you two reached college. Both you and Satoru moved across the country to attend a prestigious college. During the first year, he got to live in his very own three bedroom mansion, while you just shared a dorm with three other girls, which you didn't mind, but it wasn't exactly luxury.

Your friendship was only being held together by the feelings you still had left for him after all this time, as now, he barely even talked to you anymore. He was way too caught up in his lavish lifestyle, blasting mountains of money on girls and partying each week, and steadily failing all his classes at the same time.

Still, you stuck around and watched over him from afar, but you could only roll your eyes and shake your head at what he was doing with his life. That brings you to this summer.

You had the highest grades from your entire year in your college, while it wasn't hard to guess that Satoru's were the lowest. You became quite popular, as many people asked you to help them with things they didn't understand, as well as just taking advice from you in general.

You'd never have expected a depressed looking Gojo Satoru to approach you one day, asking for help with dark circles around his eyes, messed up hair and clothes, and a look in his eyes that indicated a mental breakdown. Still, the way he looked at you was the same as back then.

"Y/n... can you please help me improve my grades? If I continue like this, I'll be kicked out. Please, I'll do anything." He said to you. If it were any other person with his lifestyle begging for help, you may have just laughed in their face and told them to change life paths entirely, but it was Satoru. You could only nod and offer a comforting hug.

You contacted his parents regarding his issues, and while they were furious at him, they couldn't stop thanking you for sticking around and helping him. They arranged for you to stay at his college house from now on, just so you could keep a closer eye on him as you two worked through his quarter life crisis together.

By the time you reached Christmas, his grades had improved majorly, and he was a completely changed person. He had gotten back his cheerful, bubbly personality that you once knew him for, and while he wasn't blatantly rude and egotistical, he continued to play into the act, partially as a joke, and also because old habits die hard. And you were the one to thank for this change for him, because as always, you stuck around.

This was his first time in so many years that he didn't spend Christmas partying, but instead with you, and only you, enjoying all the amazing foods you made, and otherwise curling up on the couch with you as you two binged movies.

You don't even know how many romcoms you two had gone through the past couple days, but while it was entertaining, you couldn't help but envy the people in those movies, always getting their happily ever after with the one they love, while you were just here, raising a man child that you had been in love with since you were two.

Little did you know that when you'd be opening your present from him on Christmas Eve, you'd find amongst all the amazing things he bought you, a hand-written letter, and that he'd be watching you anxiously as you opened and read it, praying to everything both up above and down below that you wouldn't react by ripping it up and tossing it on the floor.

My dear Y/n, This is my 89th attempt at writing this letter, but I'm afraid if I tried to tell you what I want to say in outspoken words, it would be even worse than this. Please don't hate me. I want to confess to you something that I was too scared to say out loud, so here goes. I know I might have never shown it, but I've loved you ever since we were just little kids. I know I was a really bad friend to you growing up, but you always continued to stick around, no matter how insufferable I got. I could never understand it. I was the one who was famous, the one who was deemed perfect by everyone on the outside, but it was you who turned out so amazing, while I just became a wreck, leaving you, the only one who stuck around after all this time, to fix me. I'm eternally grateful for everything you've done for me, and I wish I could repay you. I wish that some day you could find it in you to reciprocate my love for you, but even if you can't, I will always wait for you, just as you did for me, as a way of paying off my debt. Keep in mind that I've never actually confessed to anyone, as I never truly loved anyone that I've been with in the past, though you probably knew that by yourself. With sincere love, Satoru. P.S. I hope you didn't die of cringe by the time you reached the end of this.

You giggled as you read the line on the bottom of the paper, looking up at Satoru afterwards, and he seemed like a lost puppy with a begging look in his eyes. Even the time he came asking for your help, he didn't look like he was so hopeful.

"I didn't die of cringe, as you can see." You said with a smirk on your face, taking all of his constipated facial expression in as you kept eye contact for a long time period.

"...and?" He broke the silence after about fifteen seconds, gulping right after.

"I love you too, you idiot." You said, catching him as he practically flew into your arms. You had been waiting for this moment for way too long.

He leaned down and softly pressed his lips against yours, stealing your breath for a short time before pulling away after a few seconds. His cocky persona had returned.

"Why did I ever have my doubts? I'm awesome!" He said, making you giggle.

"What a man child." You shook your head before kissing him again, just enjoying the romcom moment you had been desiring for so long.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #anime #confessions #reader insert #female reader #college #college life #romance #first kiss #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #childhood friends #fluff #fanfic

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susamaru-official · 2 years

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Upper moons as bf/gf headcanons

So basically this is one of my first stories so dont expect it to be all that great but yeah

I included Daki, gyutaro, douma and akaza because I dont know THAT much about kokoushibo, gyokko and hantengu. Anyways, enjoy

GN, demon reader btw

Daki

Literally LOVES hugs

Whenever she gets the opportunity to Hug you, she will

She thinks that you are the 2nd most beautiful demon on earth, besides her ofc

Always braids your hair when shes bored

She loves it when you tell her she is pretty, no matter what

When you are hunting, she always holds your hand

Even tho she is weak, she kills ANY human who even dares look at u in a weird way

The only other demons u are able to talk to without her getting jealous are gyutaro and muzan

Smells like expensive parfume and strawberries

If you talk to anyone else, she gets super jealous

Loves playing dress up with you

Big crybaby

Always brings the most beautiful women Home for you to eat

Loves to wrap you up in her belt thingy and then hug you

Gyutaro now has to take care of to people (probably both crybabys)

Gyutaro

Probably thinks you are joking when you ask him to be your bf

But after a while realises, it isnt a joke

Thinks you are being forced to love him, because he is "ugly"

You actually love him ALOT tho

Always gives you piggy back rides when on missions

Daki also adores you but only like a little sibling

Protects you with his whole life

Hates hugs and kisses

He likes it when you say "I love you" or "you're so pretty!"

Probably smells like blood and poison

You sometimes get scared when he randomly appears behind you

Doesnt get jealous, as long as you don't leave him, he is happy

He last showered 50 years ago but you don't care

Don't touch his hair, he hates it

He loves you, because you actually think he is pretty

Akaza

As soon as he becomes your bf, he won't let you go

Literally way to overprotective

When you go on missions together, he always has his arm around your waist

Trains with you ALL the time, because he doesnt want you to be weak

He wants you to become the strongest demon in the universe

Probably smells like sweat and grass

Always follows you, no matter where you go

Loves hugs and kisses

He gets jealous if somebody talks with you

Even when talking with muzan

Zero patience

Never leaves you alone, always takes you with him

Always wants to fight with you

The Training never ends

Still he loves you alot

Douma

Adores you SO MUCH

He treats you like the God you are

He makes you join his cult too

Loves cuddling, hugging and all the other stuff where he can feel your body

Probably smells like flowers and blood

Gives you Goofy ahh nicknames and you have to pretend that you like it...

If you tell him to kill somebody, he will probably do it

He will spoil you with so many expensive clothes

The most normal nicknames you get are "y/n Chan" and "princess"

Always hugs you when he gets the Chance (like daki)

You have your own throne

Ok that is all for now

Im sorry that doumas and akazas were so short but this is my first story and I wrote this at 2am lmao

Whatever, I hope you enjoyed anyways

My requests are open! Please give me ideas 😀

Ty for reading tho, this took me like an hour

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mommymlkrs · 1 year

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~ You Can’t Escape Destiny ~

~ Summary: Sam, Dean, and Y/n come across a profit writing books word for word off of their lives. They seek out the writer and he tells them something they may not have wanted to hear. Do they really want to try and escape destiny though?

~ Pairings: Sam Winchester x Fem Reader

~ Warnings: Smut, this is also very long.

*Based off of Season 4 Episode 18* *Spoilers*

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

The bell dings as Sam and Dean enter the comic book store after being sent on a possible hunt by Castiel. They both make their way to the guy at the front counter in their black and white suits posing as FBI agents.

“Uh can I help you?” The worker says confused.

“Sure hope so, agents DeYoung and Shaw, just need to ask you a few questions.” Dean holds up his badge.

“See anything strange in the building the last couple of days?” Sam pipes in.

“Like what?”

“Strange noises? Any skittering in the walls? kind of like rats?”

“And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?” The guy asks suspiciously.

“What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?” Sam keeps nagging.

The worker looks like the lightbulb in his head suddenly flickered on as a smile creeps on his face.

“I knew it! You guys are LARP-ing, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me.” Dean says offended.

“You’re fans!”

“Fans of what?”

“What is LARP-ing?” They both question.

“Like you don’t know.” Still finding a bright smile on his face, Sam and Dean both look at him with confusing looks.

“Live-Action role playing, and pretty hardcore too!” He exclaims pointing towards their suits making them both look down.

“Sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You guys are asking questions like the building is haunted. Like those guys from the books. Oh what are their names..” He explains as he tries to remember.

“Supernatural.” The guy recalls as Sam and Dean are both utterly confused.

“Two guys use fake Id's with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires." He tells them. Sam and Dean both give each other confusing looks.

"What are their names? Uhh, Steve and Dirk? Sal and Dane?"

"Sam and Dean?" Sam questions.

"That's it!"

"You're saying this is a book?"

"Books, it was a series." He corrects.

"Didn't sell a lot of copies though, kind of an underground cult following."

"Let's see uhh" The worker jumps up and searches for the series within his store. Both Sam and Dean follow as he searches through the bargain bin.

"Oh yeah, that's the first one I think." He hands the book to Dean."

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund." Dean reads the title continuing when he flips the book over.

"Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths."

"Give me that." Sam grabs the book from Dean frantically scanning the book.

"We're gonna need all the copies of Supernatural you got."

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

Back at the motel, Sam is seated at a desk researching on his computer, Dean is sitting on one bed reading one of their new found books, and Y/n is lying on her stomach on the other bed already starting the second in the series.

"This is freaking insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?" Dean perks up.

"You got me." Sam replies.

"everything is in here. I mean everything. To the racist truck to me having sex. I'm full frontal in here." Dean explains.

"Those were some of the best parts." Y/n chimes in joking. Both Sam and Dean look at Y/n with weird looks. Although Y/n never takes her eyes away from the words on the page she can just imagine their faces so she smirks.

"How come we haven't heard of them before?" Dean says Ignoring Y/n's comment.

"They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation. Uhh started in 05. Publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And the last one, 'No Rest for the Wicked ends with you going to hell." Sam faces the laptop to Dean once he sits down next to him.

"Well, I reiterate. Freaking insane. Oh and check it out, there's actually fans. Not many of them, but still. Did you read this Sam?"

"Yup."

"Really? Oh my god, you guys are like famous!" Y/n gets up to look over Dean's shoulder at the laptop.

"For fans, they do complain a lot. Listen to this. Simpatico says 'The demon story line is trite, clichéd and overall craptastic.' Yeah well screw you Simpatico, we lived it."

Y/n starts to laugh and points to the screen to read it out.

"There are Sam girls, Dean girls and Sam / Dean fans.”

"What does that mean?" Dean asks.

"As in.. Together." Answers Sam.

"Like together together?"

"Yeah."

"They do know we're brothers right?" Dean says wide eyed.

"It doesn't seem to matter."

"Oh come on. That’s just sick."

"This just keeps getting better and better." Y/n giggles.

"Oh don't worry Y/n, there's some of you too." Sam smirks.

Y/n goes wide eyed and her face heats up in embarrassment.

"I take it back, this is definitely too weird."

"Oooh look at that, 'Y/n and Sam ge-" Y/n shuts the laptop closed immediately and releases a breath she didn't know she was holding while Dean chuckles at her action.

"We gotta find this Carver Edlund."

"But how?" Y/n questions Sam.

"I don't know. No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."

"Someone's gotta know who he is." Dean replies.

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"So you published the Supernatural books?" Sam questions the woman.

"Yup, gosh these books. You know they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap."

Both Sam and Dean give Y/n side glances knowing that's all Y/n ever reads.

"What?" Y/n whispers looking back and forth between them.

"Well, we're hoping that our article can shine a light on an underappreciated series." Sam looks back to the woman.

"Yeah, if we got a little bit of good press, then maybe we could start publishing again."

"No, no, no, no. God no. I mean why would you wanna do that? You know, it's such a complete series... What with Dean going to hell and all." Dean tries to explain.

"Oh my god, that was one of my favourite ones! Because Dean was so strong and sad and brave, and Sam, I mean, in ‘Heart’, when Sam had to kill Madison, the first girl since Jessica he really loved.." She says so excitedly.

"Totally agree, and Y/n, right guys? Personally I think she was one of the best characters." Y/n says trying not to be left out.

"Yeah.. I mean she could definitely use some character growth but she added to the story." Y/n was definitely offended by that, but the woman continued.

"I really wish I could've seen what happened with her and Sam though."

"Her and Sam?" Sam questioned her statement not understanding.

"Yeah, you know, there was definitely something between them. You guys finished the books right?"

Both Y/n and Sam's faces started to heat up trying to look anywhere but at the people in the room.

"Yeah, yeah, totally! Great books." Dean chimes in.

"How do I know you 3 are legit? Hm?" She points a finger at them.

"Oh trust me, we're legit."

"Well I don't want any smart ass article making fun of my boys." She sits down behind her desk.

"No, no, no." The 3 quickly say in sync.

"We would never." Y/n adds.

"We are actually uhm big fans, read the books cover to cover."

"What's the year and model of the car?" Clearly trying to test them.

"1967 Chevy Impala." Dean says like a proud dad.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's my-" Y/n quickly shoves Sam's foot.

"Uhh that's Sam's birthday." Sam says correcting his mistake.

"January 24th is Dean's." Dean quickly slides that in there.

"And (your birthday) is Y/n's, i-if you wanted to know."

"Sam's score on the LSAT?" Both Y/n and Dean look at Sam.

"One... Seventy four.?"

"Dean's favourite song?"

"It's a tie. Between Zep's 'Rambling On' and 'Travelling Riverside Blues.’”

"Okay, okay. What do you wanna know?" She smiles.

"What's Carver Edlunds real name?" Sam questions.

"Oh no, no, sorry I can't do that."

"We just wanna talk to him. You know get the Supernatural story in his own words."

"He's very private."

"Please." Sam pleads.

"Like we said.. We are very big fans." Y/n explains rolling up her sleeve to show her anti-posessing tattoo eyeing Sam and Dean to do the same. They both unbutton their shirts showing their tattoo's placed on their chest.

"Awesome." The woman says nervously obviously eyeing their chests. Y/n can't help but roll her eyes.

"You know what? One sec." She pulls down her pants to show her ass. And it just so happens to be the same tattoo. Y/n makes an uncomfortable noise from her throat and coughs to interrupt the weirdness.

"Wow, you are a fan." Dean says without removing his eyes from her tattoo.

"Hah, okay, well here, his name is Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius. So don't piss him off." She explains while writing down the information.

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All 3 of them get out of the car and head to the house.

"You know what? Maybe this guy can see our futures.” Y/n says as a joke.

"Yeah, he probably has a crystal ball too." Dean making a sarcastic comment as always.

"Ha ha Dean. Lighten up once in awhile, it's just a joke." Sam chuckles at her nagging.

"See, Sam laughed, it's probably because I'm funny." She speaks while skipping on a few steps to get beside them. When she reaches them, Sam’s hand and hers accidentally touch, startling them.

"Or because you can't keep up with us, short legs." Dean remarks once making it to the porch. Dean presses the doorbell and after a few seconds a guy with brown scruffy hair opens the door squinting at them like a vampire who hasn't seen light in days.

“You Chuck Shurley?” Dean asks.

“The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?” Sam seconds.

“Maybe, why?” The scruffy vampire man replies suspiciously. Y/n steps up between the boys.

“I’m Y/n, this is Sam and Dean. The ones you’ve been writing about.” She explains pointing at them. The man shuts the door so Y/n raises her arm and pounds on the door. Once again the man appears in the doorway.

“Look uh, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It’s always nice to hear from the fans. But for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life.” Y/n scoffs at that and stops the door when the man tries to shut it.

“So here’s the thing, Chuck. We have a life, you’ve been using it to write your books, and I’m not in the mood for crap today.” Y/n perks up and walks into his house. The brothers both look at each other not expecting that from her.

“Wait a minute, this isn’t funny.” The man stutters.

“Damn straight, it’s not funny.” Dean starts to get mad.

“Look, we just want to know how you’re doing it?” Sam asks obviously being the nice cop here.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Are you a hunter?”

“What? No, I’m a writer.”

“Then how do you know so much about demons and tulpas and changelings?” Dean pressures.

“Is this some kind of Misery thing? It is isn’t it? It’s a Misery thing.”

“This is not a Misery thing.” Y/n chimes in.

“Believe me, we are not fans.” Explains Dean.

“Well then what do you want?”

“I’m Sam, this is Dean, and that’s Y/n.”

“Sam, Dean and Y/n are all fictional characters. I made them up. They’re not real!”

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Dean opens up the Impala’s trunk.

“Are those real guns?” Chuck asks.

“Yup, this is real rock salt, these are real fake Id’s.”

“Believe us now?” Says Y/n.

“Uh, I gotta hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans. That’s awesome, so.. I think I got some posters in the house.” Chuck dabbles and walks back to his house.

“Chuck stop!” Deans yells.

“Wait, please, please don’t hurt me.”

“How much do you know? About the angels or Lilith breaking the seals?” Asks Sam.

“Wait a minute, how do you know about that?”

“How do you?” Y/n questions.

“Cause I wrote it.”

“You kept writing?” Questions Y/n again, curious.

“Even after the publisher went bankrupt. But those books never came out.” The 3 look at each other then Chuck.

“Okay wait wait wait, this is some kind of joke right? Did that- Did Phil put you up to this?” He laughs pointing to his left.

“Well nice to meet you. I’m Dean Winchester, this is my brother, Sam, and that’s Y/n Y/L/n.”

“Last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down.”

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After talking more with Chuck, they all head to the Laundromat.

“‘I’m sitting in a Laundromat, reading about myself in a Laundromat, reading about myself-‘ my head hurts.” Dean recites the paper.

“There’s gotta be something this guys not telling us.” Sam says putting his laundry in the machine.

“‘Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck. Whether he was telling the whole truth.’”

“Stop it.” Sam now annoyed.

“‘Stop it’ Sam said.’ Guess what you do next. ‘Sam turned his back on Dean. His face brooding and pensive.’ I mean I don’t know how but this guy is doing it.”

“Yeah I mean those are definitely his brooding and pensive shoulders.” Y/n responds to Dean.

“See, I knew you were gonna say that, and Sam just thought I was a dick. As well as Y/n daydreaming about Sam’s ass.” This caught Y/n’s attention.

“It does not say that!”

“I’m pretty sure it does, look-ey here” Dean waves the paper in Y/n’s face.

“Gimme that.” Y/n scootches over to Dean on the bench to grab the paper but he waves it around out of her reach.

“Oh my god, you are so childish Dean.”

“Says the one embarrassed she got caught starin’.” Reading off the paper again, Y/n snatches the paper, crumples it and throws it in the trash.

“You gotta admit, the guys good.” Sam chuckles and tries to ignore the previous conversation.

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Back at the house trying to get more information, Chuck holds more paper.

“So you wrote another chapter?” Asks Sam.

“This was all so different before you were real.”

“We need whatever you can tell us to figure this out so just spit it out.” Y/n perks up.

“Okay, uhm this might be a little uncomfortable, but you asked so.” The 3 share glances across the room from where Dean is sitting on a chair and Sam and Y/n are sitting on the couch. Chuck sits on a stool, puts his glasses on and begins to read, obviously seeming like he doesn’t like to read his work out loud.

“‘Y/n grabs him by the edges of his unzipped jacket pulling him closer to her when he hungrily smashes his lips on hers like a wave of relief, a desire fulfilled.’ Chuck stops reading to look at the 3, who’s faces are utterly confused to see if he should read on. Y/n just knows her face is red as a tomato when she starts to feel very uncomfortable at the mention of her name. Chuck starts to read on.

“‘Sam’s hands grab her hips trying to get impossibly clos-‘“

“Okay, I don’t think we need that much information..” Sam cuts Chuck off feeling embarrassed and very sweaty at the moment. Dean chuckles at the very obvious uncomfortableness in the room.

“It’s just a draft..” Chuck states. Y/n stands from the couch.

“I’m uh super thirsty actually, do you have any water Chuck?”

“Y-Yeah, I’ll uhm go get some.”

“Great, I’ll come with you.” Y/n follows trying to leave the awkwardness as fast as possible.

Sam starts to laugh.

“What’re you laughing at?” Dean questions.

“Nothing, nothing, its just, Y/n and me? In bed?”

“Who are you trying to convince here?” Dean smirks.

“Don’t worry, I definitely don’t see you’re guys’ little glances and hand touches, and staring at the other when the other isn’t looking type of deal.”

“Dean.”

“What?” Dean says innocently causing Sam to roll his eyes.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Y/n and Chuck walk back into the room with her glass of water.

“Thank you.” Y/n says kindly avoiding eye contact with Sam as she sits on the couch but a little farther away this time trying not to make it more awkward.

“How does this whole psychic thing work?” Dean asks Chuck.

“You mean my process?”

“Yes. Your process.”

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“Come on.” Sam starts while they’re all in the Impala.

“‘The minivan accident wasn’t that bad. But Dean was still seeing stars, he scratched absently at the pink flower Band-Aid on his face..’” Y/n giggles at that from the backseat.

“So?” Questions Dean.

“So I’ve seen you gushing blood. You use duct tape and bar rags before you’d put on a pink flower Band-Aid.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is this, all this is totally implausible. It’s nuts.”

“He’s been right about everything, you think he’ll ground out at first now?”

“‘Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow.’”

“Can we stop with these papers? Our lives aren’t a script we have to follow, reading off of these isn’t gonna help with anything right now except make you guys argue.” Y/n put her hands on the seat and leaned forward glancing between them.

“Yeah whatever, you just don’t wanna come across another part with you and Sam.” Dean smirks.

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Back at the motel Dean still seemed to have questions.

“I’m gonna go outside and try to see if I can contact Cas.”

“Don’t leave me in here Dean!” Y/n whisper yells.

“Sam’s in the shower, I’ll be like 10 minutes tops Y/n. Just don’t go hopping in there with him.” Dean smirks and shuts the door to the room.

Y/n decides to get comfy so she sits on the bed, back against the headboard and watches whatever she can find on the tv. After watching the clock, it had been 10 minutes exactly when she heard the bathroom door open. Sam walked out, damp hair and water dripping down his body with only a towel hanging on his waist. Y/n found herself staring.

“Oh, uhm I thought I heard the door close, I assumed you left with Dean.” Sam explained gathering up his clean clothes.

“He said he would be like 10 minutes, just wanted to contact Cas.”

“Oh okay.” Sam said nervously heading back to the bathroom to change. After a few minutes the bathroom door opened again and this time he had pants on but still no shirt.

“Could you uh pass me that shirt beside you?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, here.” She tossed him his shirt. He raised his arms and put his shirt on. Y/n swore she almost drooled. Sam came and sat down across from Y/n on the other bed facing her. She sat up and put her feet on the floor.

“Listen, about earlier..” Sam started as he scratched his neck. Remembering back to earlier Y/n laughed, noticing how funny it actually was.

“Which part? There was so many.” She giggled referring to all the awkward times people said something about them being together. Sam laughed too at that.

“Yeah, I just don’t want that to make things awkward between us, it’s kinda felt that way since earlier.”

“Yeah, I felt that too. But maybe Chuck was wrong? I’ve always believed we write our own futures, so fuck destiny. If we don’t feel what everyone is saying we should feel, then so what?” Sam laughed and nodded his head.

“I agree.” At that, Y/n smiled and stood up to hug Sam.

“See? All better, we can feel how we wanna feel.”

“So I can feel that I wanna tickle you?” Sam smiled and Y/n immediately gasped and tried to run away but Sam grabbed her waist and started tickling.

“SAM! I swear if you don’t stop!” Sam pushed her back onto the other bed stopping her from squirming away.

“You swear what?” Sam stopped tickling her but held her hips to the bed still. After a few moments, Y/n caught her breath but didn’t know what to say. She looked back and forth between his eyes and lips and so did Sam. Suddenly they heard voices and sat up quickly. Dean walked through the door.

“I don’t even wanna know. C’mon we are getting out of here.” Dean stated.

“What where?” Asked Sam.

“Anywhere, okay? Out of this Motel, out of this town. I don’t care if we gotta swim. We are getting out.” Dean started packing his bag.

“Why aren’t you guys moving?” Dean raised his voice.

“Listen, Chuck is not a psychic. He’s a prophet.”

“What?” Y/n stood up.

“Cas showed up. And apparently, Chuck is writing the gospel of us. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“It’s the middle of the night Dean, the road out of here is cut off, we can’t leave.” Y/n walked towards him.

“Fine. We are leaving as soon as the road out of here opens up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Dean repeated.

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That night, Dean some how ended up getting his own bed and Y/n got the other bed while Sam was stuck with the couch after very much debate between him and Y/n.

Y/n slowly opened her eyes to find it was still dark outside, she found herself thirsty so she got up to grab a water bottle out of the fridge but only found beer. ‘Liquid is liquid I guess’ she thought. Once her eyes adjusted to the room, her eyes found themselves on Sam, quietly laughing at how gigantic he was with his legs hanging off the end of the couch. She looked over to Dean but he wasn’t there.

“Dean?” She asked like he was suddenly gonna appear. She quickly made her way over to Sam shaking his shoulders to wake him up.

“Sam? Sam!” He groaned as he awoke.

“Deans not in his bed.”

“What?” Sam questioned Y/n.

‘Oh my god, his morning voice.’ Y/n thought.

“I don’t know where he is. The Impala is still outside and all of his stuff is here.”

Sam stood up to see Dean was in-fact not in his bed. ‘He doesn’t have a shirt on too? Oh my, what this man does to me.’ Y/n thought.

“Maybe he went for a walk?” Said Sam obviously too tired at the moment to focus.

“I don’t know Sam.” Sam took a step closer to Y/n to get her attention.

“Y/n, I’m sure he just went to the bar across the street or something. Let’s just go back to sleep and when we wake up I’m telling you he will be here. If he’s not, we can take as many precautions as you’d like.”

“Fine.” At that Sam took another step closer to put his fingers on her chin turning her head up to him.

“Y/n.” Sam said sternly knowing she was worried.

“It’s okay Sam, if you think he’s fine, I believe you.” Y/n explained placing her fingers on his hand. Sam smiled at that.

“Goodnight Y/n.” Sam said softly leaving her touch.

“Are you sure about that couch Sam? You didn’t look too comfortable… You can sleep in my bed if you want, I really don’t mind.” Y/n said calmly trying to act as chill as possible as she climbed in under the covers.

“You sure?”

“Just get in Sam.” She smiled at him. Sam made his way over to the side of the bed and hesitantly got under the covers as well. Y/n turned over to face Sam still smiling.

“What?” He smiled at her.

“You’re so warm, the bed was so cold before.” Y/n said, thoughts racing.

“I’ll gladly be your heater anytime Y/n.” She loved when he said her name. She shuffled a bit closer not wanting to roll off the bed during the night. At that, Sam slowly reached his hand up to brush her hair out of her face behind her ear. At the action, Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, thankful it was dark so he didn’t notice.

After a moment of staring into each others eyes, both of their gazes flickered back and forth from their eyes to each others lips. Sam leaned in slowly not wanting to accidentally get the wrong idea. His lips grazed hers and after realization Y/n pressed her lips to his. A slow kiss made faster in the moment turning his hand on her hip and hers on his cheek.

They both separated taking heavy breaths, echoing through the motel room. Y/n smirked and pulled him closer once again intertwining their mouths and pressing their bodies as close as possible to each other. Sam put both hands on her hips now turning them over so he was on top, he started kissing her jawline and down her neck giving them a break to breathe. Y/n put her hands through his hair as Sam looked up at her.

“I remember you saying ‘fuck destiny.’” Sam smirked.

“And I remember you agreeing. So shut up and kiss me Winchester.” She smiled at him and brought him up to her face connecting their lips. Sam tugged at the edge of her oversized shirt making her lean up off the bed so he could pull it off finding her without a bra. He instantly went to sucking her chest and twisting her other nipple. Y/n let out a moan and Sam smiled against her chest switching to give each the same attention.

He went back to her mouth and Y/n found the draw string to his sweatpants undoing the bow tugging at them. Sam got the hint and detached their mouths to kneel and take off his pants. He slowly reached for Y/n’s shorts and looked up at her. She smiled and nodded so he continued to pull them off her. He rubbed his fingers against her covered heat.

“Your so wet.” Sam noticed and smiled at her.

“All for you.” Y/n spoke up. Sam then hooked his fingers on either side of her hips pulling her underwear down and off. She whined at the cool air hitting her suddenly. Sam leaned down toward her heat spreading her legs with his hands and licking a stripe up her slit. Y/n moaned at his action so Sam did it again liking the sweet sounds she made. He then started sucking on her clit harshly making her squeal and try to shut her legs around his head so Sam reached both his arms under and around her thighs keeping them open for him.

He started moving his mouth around more chasing her to moan and stick her hands back in his hair pulling and tugging.

“Sam pleasee.” Y/n moaned.

“Please what? Tell me what you need sweetheart.” Sam replied against her pussy.

“I- I need more!” At that, Sam unhooked one of his arms from her thigh and stuck his finger in her hole. Y/n screamed at the sudden movements. Sam roughly moved his finger in and out adding a second one still sucking her clit.

“I- I’m gonna-“ Y/n tried to tell him.

“That’s it, cum on my fingers sweetie.” At the nickname, Y/n came on his fingers a moaning mess. Still thrusting, he let her come down from her high.

Sam sucked her juices off his fingers coming off with a pop.

“You taste so good.” Sam stated crawling back up to her to intertwine their lips. They broke apart as Y/n tugged his boxers down finding his hard cock.

“You’re so big.” Said Y/n, almost drooling. Sam chuckled and turned her on her stomach with her ass in the air. Sam stuck his arm around to her face.

“Spit.” Y/n did as told and Sam brought his hand back to stroke his cock a few times. He put one hand on her ass spreading her open for him and the other hand guiding his dick in her wet hole. He slowly went in as Y/n started to whine.

“C’mon, you can fit me honey.” She moaned at his deep soothing voice and Sam bottomed out giving her a second to adjust before he pulled out, back in, and started slamming into her from behind with both hands on her hips now bringing her hips to meet his. Their moans and groans filled the room along with the slapping of their hips.

“Sam-“ Y/n moaned into the bed gripping the sheets. Sam grabbed both her arms and pinned her wrists behind her back grunting as he pounded harder. Y/n started to whine loudly and he felt her clench causing him to roll his head back.

“You gonna cum baby?” He said to her reaching his fingers down to massage her clit.

“Mhmm.” She moaned out not being able to form words. He let go off her wrists, grabbing a fist of hair instead making her uncontrollably moan as well as her eyes rolling back in her head. Sam stopped his movement on her clit and let go of her hair before pulling out quickly to flip her body around. Her back now on the bed he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder immediately putting his cock back into her wet cunt causing her to whimper and scream. Sam leaned down grabbing the sides of her face in his palms and kissed her. While pulling away from her lips he started pounding into her like never before shaking the bed. They stared into each others eyes mouths wide open moaning. Y/n’s eyes started to get heavy and started to stutter.

“Sam, I’m-“ Sam knew what she was trying to say and continued fucking into her.

“I know baby. Cum for me.” He said between breaths feeling her starting to clench around him. Y/n moaned his name all the way through her orgasm.

“Good girl.” Y/n then began to shake at the over stimulation.

“Sammy- I ca-“

“Just a little longer sweetie, you can do it.” He reassured her and let go of her head to pound into her a little more when his thrusts started getting sloppy and his dick began to twitch. His cum shot into her causing them to both moan. He carefully pulled out and leaned down on top of her to kiss her swollen lips. She ran her fingers through his hair while both of them panted to calm down and catch their breathe. Sam lied down next to her on his side, pulled her into him by her waist and kissed the top of her head.

“I guess we can’t really escape destiny huh?” Sam joked and Y/n looked up at him kissing him again.

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Y/n’s eyes began to open immediately putting her hand up to block the bright sunlight. She looked around to find Sam’s arm draped over her waist and Dean’s bed still empty. Sam awoke from her movement.

“Hi.” Sam said fluttering his eyes open.

“Hi.” She replied smiling at him. Suddenly the motel room door opened and in walked Dean landing his eyes on them.

“So, destiny huh guys?” Dean smirked. Sam’s cheeks went pink and Y/n grabbed her pillow and tossed it at Dean.

“Hey! Watch the coffee grumpy.” Dean remarked.

“Where were you last night?” Y/n asked ignoring his comment.

“Just at the bar. Why? Seems like your guys’ minds were somewhere else.” Dean placed the coffees down and widened his eyes at the pair.

“Couch comfy Sam?” Dean asked, obviously amused. Sam just rolled his eyes at his joking behaviour.

961 notes · View notes

gyu-effect · 11 months

Note

hi! congratulations on the followers!!! you really do deserve every achievement you've had on the blog :))) for the event, can i please request a chan fic? i had this idea where like he meets this girl who works in a bookshop or something and he starts visiting really often and the members are like ????are u ok????

its just an idea!!!! feel free to change it however you want :)) if it's too hyper specific then just a fluffy chan fic please!!! (only if you can of course!!)

i love your writing so much and i know you'll be hosting another one of these at 1k followers very soon too!!

PAIRING || Chan x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff, Library AU

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 1k

A/N || First of all, I'm so so sorry this is so late! i never excpeted to be become this busy so i barely had time to write so sorry about that! secondly, thank you! thank you so so much for your kind words it really means a lot to me and i'm so glad you liked my stories. thirdly, i hope you like this the idea was just so cute i hope i was able to do justice to this! also, i forgot while writing that you wanted it to be a bookstore and i made it a library i hope you don't mind~

TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @amethyistheart [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

[12:05]

"and where do you think you are going now?"

the voice stopped chan in his tracks just as he was about to open the front door, and he put on the best definitely not nervous smile he could before turning slowly to face seungcheol.

he let out a nervous laugh, hoping seungcheol would just drop the subject, considering the fact he wasn't a kid anymore, but the leader just raised an eyebrow at him, meaning that if he didn't explain why he was trying to sneak out of the house right now, he would be in big trouble.

"uh, i was just going to the grocery store!" chan blurted out the first lie that crossed his mind. "thought we were out of some stuff, so i wanted to get them for you guys."

"but mingyu ordered all the things required this morning?" seungcheol questioned and with that chan knew he had messed up.

his cheeks burned as he thought of the real reason why he was going out. but i can't tell him that.

"i-i wanted ice cream?" he stammered, trying one last time. at this, seungcheol narrowed his eyes at him, before taking a step closer to him.

"hey." he asked softly. "is something bothering you?" the sincerity in seungcheol’s voice nearly made him spill his secret; so there's this girl… but he caught himself in the last minute when jeonghan appeared beside seungcheol.

"what's it chan? you okay?" he asked casually, but chan could hear the underlying worry laced in his tone. "it's just that you keep disappearing everyday at three and then come back home at eight. we are just worried that you might have joined a cult."

well if y/n's in the cult, i don't see what's wrong in joining it.

but of course he didn't say that. instead, he said. "cult? why would i join a cult? to be honest," at this both the older members leaned in, as though very eager to listen to chan's problems. he felt bad for lying to them but he doubted he could bear with their teasing. "i started going to the library. for, er, broadening my perspective. got a few tips from wonwoo and minghao."

"libr- oh, that's all?" seungcheol said, looking a bit relieved. then he smiled at chan, before giving him a pat on his back. "why didn't you tell us before about that? here we were worried that you had gotten yourself into some trouble."

"sorry." he muttered, still feeling guilty about the situation.

jeonghan too smiled before ushering him out of the house. "don't be. as long as it's not affecting your schedule, enjoy yourself, okay?"

chan nodded quickly before stepping out of the house. after he had walked down a few floors, he started running, feeling the familiar happiness take over him at the thought of getting to see you.

luckily the library was just a street away from their dorm, or else he wouldn’t have been able to see you so regularly. within a few minutes he had reached the doors of the library, and peeping inside he found it empty. except for you of course.

you were working in front of the computer at the helpdesk, a stack of returned books beside you as you carefully picked them and logged them into the system. chan felt his heart flutter a little when your eyebrows knitted cutely in concentration, the desk lamp giving you a soft glow.

the first time he had met you wasn’t at the library, but at the grocery store. he had been picking up the ingredients for their surprise ramen party, all the while grumbling about the book names wonwoo and minghao had actually suggested to him.

and you happened to be there beside him, listening to him mutter about where the hell he was supposed to find these books (not the ingredients of course) and if they were even worth reading when you suddenly turned around and offered to help him.

at first, chan was confused because he was nearly done getting all the things he had been asked to get, so he just let out a nervous laugh and thanked you, adding that he already had everything that he needed.

immediately you winced in embarrassment (which was really cute now that he thought about it) before muttering that you could help him with the books.

oh. chan thought. oh.

to be honest, back then he had only said okay because he didn’t seem to be rude but what he didn’t expect was that you had meant now.

so five minutes later he found himself in the library with you, instead of being in his dorm with his members as you excitedly dug through the huge pile of books, searching up the ones he had named. as you searched it up, you chatted away happily of how it was your dream to open your own library, to help people get the books that they needed and to spread the joy of reading with everyone.

and the more he stayed in there with you, the more chan realised that he liked listening to you talk about your passion. there was something infectious about your demeanour, and soon chan found himself smiling and laughing with you.

presently chan found himself fixing his hair before stepping into the library. he cleared his throat once before saying, “hey y/n!”

you looked up at him, a smile immediately forming on your lips as you greeted him back. “hi chan! i thought you told me you couldn’t make it today?”

“well yeah, i thought so too.” he replied, slipping into the chair opposite to you. your smile widened and it was so genuine he couldn’t help his cheeks from heating up slightly. “but now your favourite customer is here!”

you let out a laugh, one that always pulled at his heartstrings, before saying. “yeah right. well you are more than just a customer, you know that right?”

“yeah.” he said, wondering what seungcheol and jeonghan would say if they knew why he visited the library actually. “we’ve got a special relationship.”

#kflixnet #╼ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 #╼ [𝟏𝟐:𝟎𝟓]#chan x reader #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #seventeen x reader #chan fluff #lee chan fluff #seventeen fluff #dino fluff #╼ 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 #chan x you #dino x you #lee chan x you #seventeen x you

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purgemarchlockdown · 9 months

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What Animal can tell us about Amane

(EDIT: Purge March Remaster of This Has been Posted! Go Check that out!)

In celebration for Purge March coming out soon let's talking about Amane's cover and what it can tell us about her! Because I've had these thoughts stuck inside me for too long.

Let's quickly talk about some imagery first before getting to the lyrics.

So cats and cat imagery is a big part of Animal as a song, in Japanese culture tend to signify good luck and protection, cats are also just known as lovable housepets, even ignoring the mischief they can cause and how aloof they can seem to people, generally speaking cats are thought of as cute lovable pets.

However that isn't the type of cat Animal is referring to. Animal is referring to a beast, an untrained and wild animal that can't even follow basic commands. One that doesn't bring protection and love but danger to the people around them.

The mask comes off and the beast comes out, barefaced animal, I do it wild even if it’s ugly I can’t do sit, I can’t even do stay, purr until I go

Keep this in mind for later because it's going to be important!

You want me to bite you? Accelerating beat, let’s do both the good and bad Let’s get lost in each other, plunge into the gate, high expectations of love is not allowed

Analyzing the lyrics of Animal in the context of Amane is interesting, due to how suggestive the lyrics can be. Still there is a repeating idea of a lack of love and the search for happiness in Animal. We can see the first hint here:

High expectations of love are not allowed.

This is something that Amane is (unfortunately) very familiar with, Amane is an abused child in a cult and she knows that at a moments notice the people around her might decide that it's time to punish her for something, and tries to minimize the chance of that happening.

Not meaning to brag but I’m pretty happy I’ve made up my mind so they don’t make that face at me again

She's pretending to be happy, pretending that she's satisfied to protect herself, but she isn't! She wants more, and treats that as a bad thing. She asks if its alright to "spoil" herself in Magic even though spoiling in this context ranges from stuff like cake:

21/06/27, Amane's birthday:

Shidou: Amane, I heard it was your birthday today. I asked Es-kun if we could get this cake to give to you…… Amane: I don’t need it. I’ll gratefully accept your well-wishes, but I don’t eat things like that. Also…… Shidou-san, I can’t say I’m especially fond of the way you assume that all children will love frivolous things like this. Shidou: ………… Is that so… I apologise. I’m sure everyone else will be happy to eat it, so don’t worry about it. Sorry for intruding. Amane: ………… ……cake……

Or...not being abused.

I won’t say “I’ve had enough” Will you laugh with me and forgive me?

Note that she also identifies this as her being weak. Amane wanting love, or happiness is selfish and frivolous.

If you can be a little greedy, I want to be happy

Happiness and greed are conflated, high expectations of love are not allowed here. Because that's greedy and selfish and Amane is a very virtuous good girl who definitely does not want any of that and even if she did she promises, oh she promises, that she'll not fall to those temptations.

Dear wise one, Is this ok? Is it ok to be weak sometimes? I promise! A good girl that keeps a promise is like, mwah!

Continuing off that, A lot of Animal is about indulging, about not holding back. Doing all sorts of things, good and bad.

You want me to bite you? Accelerating beat, let’s do both the good and bad ----------------------------------- Why don’t you get h!g%, why don’t you go cR%&Y, why don’t we do it m0rE, hahaha

Which is a very loaded concept for Amane, person who was punished for helping someone because her cult thought it the way she was doing it was a bad thing. Not only that but as stated above, Amane promised so very much that she wouldn't fall to her temptations.

The thing is, Amane does want More than what her cult offers, wants to feel happy, wants to feel love.

She wants to eat some cake.

Q. 17 What would you do if the world ends tomorrow? If everything ends? Amane: Then, I might do all sorts of things I have never done before.

This isn't the end yet though I've been sidestepping the chorus a bit for the sake of flow but let's talk about it!

So as mentioned this entire song has the singer be equated with a wild beast. Specifically a wild cat.

But cat's are pets right? You can train a cat to be a pet by discouraging certain behaviors through punishment and encourage others through rewards.

Layers of makeup, the perfect animal, I'm waiting with my eyes wide open

I talk sometimes about how spiral eyed Amane represents Amane at her most emotionally vulnerable and defeated state, the state where she can be easily controlled and manipulated. Amane is easily molded, she becomes the perfect pet.

Except...it's makeup, as much as Amane tries even at her most lowest, even at the moment where she literally kills for her cult she can't fully become the special good girl her cult Wants her to be, who She wants to be for her cult.

Because being a good girl is a goal that's has arbitrary standards that are impossible to reach, abuse can be erratic and unpredictable. No matter how hard Amane tries she can never Be a good girl, it was rigged from the start, she never had a chance.

I can’t do sit, I can’t even do stay, purr until I go Show your fangs and howl, are you ready? on the count of three let's say "ZUKKYUUUUN♡", once I bite I don’t let go Layers of makeup, the perfect animal, I'm waiting with my eyes wide open

At the end of the day the wilder, beastlier, parts still remain, the Amane that knows something is wrong is still there, the Amane that broke the cult's taboos to help someone is still there.

The Amane that wants cake is still there.

#milgram #amane momose #008 #milgram amane #milgram meta #milgram analysis #Hope you guys enjoy this! Animal is such a fun choice for Amane and Im very obsessed with it #cw cults #cw child abuse

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jeromevalecka · 1 year

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୨୧ jerome valeska x reader smut oneshot .

words : 1563

warnings : nsfw , choking kink , mentions of violence , doll(y) and love petnames , breeding kink , cunnilingus

summary : you join jerome on one of his busy days, telling him how you've been feeling lately as he proposes to show you how much he still loves you

notes : reader is gn but afab , smut. sorry for any possible grammar mistakes ♡ reqs r open!

⚠︎ NSFW BELOW PROCEED WITH CAUTION ⚠︎

Jerome was always busy, never having any time for you. It made you upset and feel unloved, but you didn't know how to tell him that. Today was another day in where Jerome had plans, you couldn't bare it anymore and decided to ask him if you could join him for the day. "J?? can i come with please" you ask him as you look at the redhead in front of you. "u sure dolly?" he says as he places a hand onto your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. You nod at him "yes please...i miss you" you say as your facial expression changes to slightly sad. His eyes widen a little and he gives you a smile "alright then, i do need to go now though so slip on those shoes" he says and caresses your cheek one more time before pulling his hand away. He starts walking towards the front door of your shared apartment, you quickly slip on your shoes and follow him, grabbing onto his hand and holding it tightly.

You both arrive at an abandoned building, seeming to have been a theater down in the narrows. You look around and follow Jerome inside as the two of you pass some scary and intimidating looking guys. Jerome nods at them and pushes open the main door, giving you a quick glace. "you sure you'll be okay doll? i need to take care of some guy who's been betraying me. You don't mind seeing me torture him do you love?" he says and smiles, with a hint of insanity behind his smile and eyes. you shake your head no at him and watch him walk up to a rather short man, tied to a flimsy chair. Jerome slaps the guy in the face and laughs, you turn around and sigh quietly as you hear screams behind you. Once the screams quiet down again you turn around, seeing Jerome breathe heavily as his chest rises up and down in a fast pace. He enjoys hurting and torturing others, you always wonder if he'd ever hurt you that way, you chose to believe he wouldn't. I mean you're his s/o after all, though...the man was very unpredictable. He orders one of the men dressed in black to take the guy away, they obey him and pull away the lifeless body. Jerome turns around and his gaze meets yours. He smiles and makes his way over to you, he cups your cheeks with his hands. His lips meet yours as he kisses you passionately, you return the kiss. He smiles and pinches your cheek with his pointing finger and thumb. "Jerome...?" you say and look into his green eyes, still filled with a little blood lust. "yes my sweet doll?" he replies and kisses your forehead. "can...i talk to you please, under four eyes" you say and look around seeing a few members of Jerome's cult hanging around. He nods and grabs your hand, pulling you into a room behind the old theater stage. "what is it?" he says and leans up against the dirty looking wall. "i feel like we barely have any time together anymore...i get it i do, i mean you have stuff to take care of and such. but i really miss you, all we do is say good night and good morning to each other these days and im left all alone at home again" you say as your eyes start to water. His facial expression softens and he pulls you against him, holding you tightly against his chest. "im sorry dolly...im here with you now though" he says and looks down at you in his slightly muscular arms. "you'll always be my little doll, my only doll. i promise" he smiles at you, warmly. It's in times like these where you forget he literally just brutally murdered and tortured a man. You smile up at him "make it up to me, will you??" you say in a rather teasing tone. He smirks and leans down whispering into your ear. "right here, huh? naughty doll" he says. His lips attach onto the soft skin on your neck as he starts leaving kisses all over. Your cheeks start turning red as you smile, clearly having missed his kisses on your body. He starts to bite down, sinking his teeth into your skin. As he pulls away he licks the marks he left and smirks.

Jerome picks you up and sets you down onto an old case, probably still containing some kind of equipment. He places his hands onto your waist as you straddle him, pulling him closer. His lips reattach to yours again as his kisses begin to get more rough, still passionate though. His hands slide up under your shirt as they make their way to your back, unhooking the clasps on your black colored bra as he helps you take off your shirt, along with the bra. His lips leave yours as he attaches them to one of your nipples, sucking on them ever so softly as he plays with your other nipple. He squeezes and pinches it as his teeth start to nibble on your other nipple. He kisses you and leaves hickies all over your collarbones, shoulders and breasts as he smiles up at you. Jerome's favorite way of showing you how much you mean to him during these situations is leaving marks all over your body, since he is very possessive over his doll after all. His hands slide down, as he proceeds to strip you of your remaining clothing, leaving only your panties behind. He bends down and starts peppering the inner of your thighs with hickies, kisses and love bites. Slowly he inches his way up, his hands sliding off your panties ever so slow. Once they finally hit down to your ankles his lips start to kiss down onto your pussy. Your hands find their way to his hair as you tug on it lightly, his tongue starts licking away and sucking on your clit. You let out moans as he continues to give you head, two of his fingers now also thrusting in and out of your hole. Once you almost reach your orgasm he pulls away, licking his fingers and smirking at you. "i bet you've missed my tongue too, huh?" he says in a teasing tone. You nod and smile, catching your breath. His hands attach to the hem of his pants as he pulls them down to his ankles along with his boxers. He lets his cock out and spits into his palm, stroking a few times to coat his cock in his saliva so it'll slide in easier. He grins and positions himself in front of your entrance, slowly sliding it in with a loud groan. You straddle him again as his cock now slides into you fully, Jerome bites onto his bottom lip as he places a hand onto your neck. He gently starts squeezing it as his hips start thrusting. "god...i missed you too dolly" he says as he throws his head back with a loud groan. His pace fastens as his grip on your neck tightens more. You moan out his name as he continues to rearrange your insides, whenever Jerome fucks you its like he loses all control, his hips bucking into yours with speed. He releases his grip on your neck and places his hands onto your hips, slamming his cock into you harder with load groans. He presses his nails into your skin, making sure to leave marks as he thrusts in and out in a fast pace. Sounds of skin slapping against each other, moans and groans filling up the tiny room behind the old stage. "let them hear that i own you, be a good dolly" he says and smirks, continuing to slam his cock inside of you as he hits all of the right spots. You obey him and moan his name louder, he chuckles at the sound of them as he pulls you close against his body as he presses his forehead against yours. His thrusting starts to become more sloppy as his chest starts rising up and down faster, his hot breath hitting your face. "All mine...you're my property aren't you little doll?" he says with a smirk. You nod and smile, kissing him roughly as you notice him getting close to his orgasm. Your orgasm also feeling close, a few more seconds after he finishes inside of you with a load groan. You finish not too soon after him as you let out moans, your legs shaking ever so slightly as you bite onto your bottom lip. Jerome grins and chuckles as his hands release from your hips, he pulls you into his arms tightly and hugs you. "ill clear up my schedule for you anytime my little doll" he says as you nuzzle your head against his chest.

"thank you J...i love you so much" you say as you look up into the redheads green eyes. He caresses your hair softly with his fingers and smiles "i love you too my love" he replies. The both of you staying there a little longer just holding each other tightly, getting dressed again afterwards as Jerome immediately goes home with you for round two.

thank you for reading , have a good day/night ♡

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bookofmac · 4 months

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okay okay okay, thinking thoughts

So I find the concept of Names really interesting in Camlann, reading into the extracanonical stuff put on the tumblr is giving me food for theory crafting. The Catacylsm seems to be some kind of return of magic to the world (possibly heralded by the return of The King of the Britons in their hour of need?) and thus people with significant Names have access to something because of it. they fall into the stories of their namesakes; Perry, Gwaine, and Kay are Knights, Morgan is Morgana Le Fay, and we now have a Gwen in Shújūn.

Based on Kay's dicussion with Perry if more people can fill in the roles of their stories to more 'to plan' the stories will go, Of course this is not good news if you know the general end point of Arthurian legend (Betrayal, muderer, war, most everyone dead, the 'Glory' of camelot gone). It's inherently kind of a doomsday cult if you stay in those stories, you know where parts of this are going (i'll get back to this)

it also seems like there may be some, for lack of a better term, kin drama going on. There are 900 members of the court and Kay mentions that Peredur is a really uncommon name outside of Wales, meaning there are certain knights who are more common, i assume Lancelot's, Kay's, maybe a few Talisin's, a bunch of Gareth's, and like 50 Elaines like in the legends lol

We also dont have the context for how Names work full yet and neither do our characters. I think theres a lot of answers to be had with Shújūn/Gwen with how it works, how you know other than the buzzing in you're head and desire go through the motions and Follow the Story

Now, where does Dai fit in all this?

Dai doesn't have a Name, and I think theres going to be a point where he changes his name in a major way, but not to a Name, but a Bardic name. In welsh poetic and story telling tradtions Welsh poets, THE OG Bards, will take on pseudonyms tell their stories. This practice stems from the medievil era, but goes forth to today, and many modern Welsh and welsh heritage poets have connections to this tradition (Dylan Thomas' middle name was his great uncles bardic name, Sarah Williams published her work under the name Sadie), I believe it's also a requirement to have one if you intend to perform in the major Eisteddfod, (I am Australian so my experiance of Eisteddfods here is very different so if i'm wrong on that let me know)

Why would he do this? I think Dai is going to, at least try, to write him and his friends a way out.

Much ink is spilt over how Arthurian legend doesnt have an 'orginal text', and as such there are lots of stories that are inherently contradictory; Bedwyr is the best knight, but so are Gwaine, Lancelot, and Galahad. Mordred is some random king until his Arthur's son. Arthur has a sister, no he has two, actually he has three and one of them is an Elaine. This could be used to explain any doubles (are you my Gwaine), as well as why we see a few different spelling varients which are, the very welsh Peredur as opposed to Percival or Parzifal, the anglisised and more boarish Kay as opposed to Cei or Caius (this last one might just to keep Dai and Kay distinct tho). These variations are no more or less 'canon' than any other telling of the story, and so often the writer of a given telling of Arthurian legend is going to have their own bias. But things dont HAVE to end the way they always do, and sometime you need to have someone outside the story you're caught in to tell you a new one.

You are not locked into that ever looming cloud of Thomas Mallory and Le Morte d'Arthur.

Other evidence I have for this is that Dai sings at the begining of each episode, and sings in welsh at that. He also is, to a point our narrator, existing both in and out of the current narative. Also his name is an a lyric of Sosban Fach (a song i would be surprised if it wasn't in the show at some point) 'Dai bach y sowldiwr' which is also not from the text the song was based on. Tangential yes, but i think it's worth thinking about.

I think there is also something to be said about choice in what your name is and how it feeds into the overall theme of identiy, and how that plays into other themes at play in the story, like Transness, Imperialism, and Predestination

TL:DR; While he doesnt have a Name, Dai's gonna give himself an epic bard name and save them all by writing a killer hook to get them out of the story

#if i've gotten details wrong wrt welsh culture im sorry i am australian and a lot of my engagement in my welsh heritage is me doing research #theres only 3 eps out i listend to them an hour ago and im writing this kind of tinfoil i'm so proud of myself lol #this is so rambly im sorry but if people want to use any of this to build ideas off of pls go ahead #camlann #camlann pod #camlann podcast #camlannpodcast #many thoughts; so big so made of foil #if i am right about the kin drama idea i'll be so happy #all the garaths fighting over kitchen duty is very funny to me in specific

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anonymousewrites · 9 months

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One Hell of a Love (Book 1.5) Chapter One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter One: One Hell of a Monastery

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian go to a cult, and (Y/N) finds themself annoyed with Sebastian's tactics for getting information.

Mouse Note: This book is called “1.5” because it contains almost everything that is non-canon to Manga storyline. I had a bit in Book 1, but that stuff can be moved on from in Book 2. Book 1.5 will contain the end of Season 1 and the entirety of Season 2 of Black Butler. So, while this book and its storyline does exist and the emotional realizations of Sebastian and MC are canon, I simply hold it separate from the rest of Sebastian and the MC’s story to not create too much confusion of canon vs non-canon Manga storyline.

“This morning, you are scheduled to have a dancing lesson with Mrs. Bright,” said Sebastian as he and (Y/N) walked beside Ciel. “This afternoon, you have an appointment with Lord Winsler, who runs a trading business. Are you paying attention, Young Master?”

“Didn’t I tell you I’ve had enough of dancing?” said Ciel. “It doesn’t suit me.”

“You are too modest. I thought you looked lovely at the soiree,” said (Y/N), smiling impishly at the reference to Ciel’s undercover work. Ciel sent them an icy glare as his ears turned red, but (Y/N), not being his contracted demon, didn’t have any reason to be nervous and just grinned wider.

Ciel huffed and opened the door to his parlor. He deadpanned at what he saw inside. He had another visitor prancing around his mansion unannounced. This time, it was Ash, the Queen’s butler. He was chatting and sipping tea with Tanaka.

“You are Her Majesty’s butler!” said Ciel.

“Master Ciel,” greeted Ash.

“How is it that Her Majesty’s butler came to be drinking tea in my mansion?” asked Ciel.

“You may not be aware of this, Young Master, but Mr. Ash has always been the one to deliver Her Majesty’s orders,” said Sebastian.

“Is that even a butler’s job?” asked Ciel.

“As a butler, it is only natural to be able to investigate applicants for an audience with Her Majesty, deliver an envelope to Lord Phantomhive shortly thereafter, and relish some tea with Mr. Tanaka while about this business, conducting it during Her Majesty’s afternoon nap!” declared Ash forcefully.

He’s got Sebastian’s work ethic, thought (Y/N).

“So, Mr. Ash, what can we do for you this time?” said Sebastian. He had no answers for it yet, but he too felt some instinctual wariness around the butler, so he wanted to make this meeting quick.

“Well, now,” said Ash. “There is a catholic monastery on the outskirts of Preston that was set on fire during the Reformation and is currently disused. A religious society preaching heretical doctrine has begun assembling there. Rumor has it that the founder of this society possesses the Doomsday Books of all his followers.”

“You mean the land register? Where things like livestock and property appear?” said Ciel. “Even if he has all this information, what good is it to him?”

“Not Domesday. Doomsday,” corrected Ash. “These books they are worshipping are quite different from what you have in mind. Doomsday: the Day of Judgement. Indeed, it is a register, but of the sort you need when flung before the Throne of God. They say all your offenses, virtues, and vices are engraved on its pages.”

Ciel tsked. “Yet another encounter with the occult.”

“It would also seem they’re planning an uprising against the government,” said Ash. “The residents of Preston are frightened by this heretical menace, and Her Majesty the Queen is deeply saddened by it.”

“Does this mean they are to be dispersed, or rather, eradicated?” questioned Ciel.

“I will leave that to your judgment,” said Ash.

“Very well,” said Ciel.

At the widow, Pluto suddenly jumped up (thankfully in human form and clothed) and began banging on the window. His mouth was open in a wide grin as he stared at Ash. The white-haired man’s eyes narrowed sharply, and Pluto’s face dropped. He walked away dejectedly. (Y/N)’s nose twitched at the interaction.

“Who is he?” asked Ash.

“Just an employee,” said (Y/N).

“I see. He seems interesting,” said Ash. His violet eyes landed on (Y/N). “As interesting as any one else on this staff, of course.”

(Y/N) and Sebastian’s gazes were cold and gained no warmth until after Ash had made his departure.

“So, where shall we start?” said (Y/N).

“According to Mr. Ash, the monastery is heavily guarded,” said Sebastian. “That would make it difficult to infiltrate directly. He also mentioned on his way out that a considerable number of coffins have recently been transported into the monastery.”

“Coffins, eh?” said Ciel. “Well, then, we know who to visit.”

Sebastian, Ciel, and (Y/N) walked into the Undertaker’s shop, and they saw him standing beside a coffin with his back to them.

“Undertaker, I have a favor to ask of you,” said Ciel.

“If that is the case…” Undertaker turned slightly to reveal red glasses and fluorescent eyes. “…Let my humble being relish this most excellent romance!” Grell ran towards Sebastian and (Y/N). They just stepped to the sides and let her slam into the wall.

“Grell!” exclaimed Ciel.

“Hi, Earl,” chirped the voice of the actual Undertaker.

“Undertaker!” Ciel blinked in confusion upon seeing Undertaker buried neck-deep in a pot of salt.

“He had the impudence to speak disrespectfully about a Grim Reaper, so I pickled him in salt,” said Grell matter-of-factly.

“Oh, the sensation of moisture slowly leaving the skin…” Undertaker giggled. “It is out of this world!”

“What are you doing here?” demanded Ciel.

Grell shrugged. “Investigating something on Will’s orders. However, I did not find much information, and I got hungry and sleepy. Having a restorative afternoon nap in a field of flowers, I somehow ended up being carried here. It could have been a mistake not to breath while sleeping.” She batted her eyelashes at Sebastian and (Y/N). “And there I was, waiting for my true love to wake me up with a nice, long tongue kiss.”

“I’d smother you in my sleep,” said (Y/N), smiling brightly.

“The subject of your investigation?” prompted Sebastian coldly.

“Certain Cinematic Records have been stolen of late,” said Grell with a sigh.

“Cinematic Records?” said Ciel.

“No need for a brat like you to know about them,” said Grell.

Just to be contrary, (Y/N) said, “It is a film of people’s memories of life that play when a reaper collects a soul or strikes the soul with their scythe.”

“Let me make this very clear: you humans can only see it on the brink of death,” said Grell.

“You said they were stolen. Can they be stolen?” questioned Sebastian.

“Well, yes,” said Grell. “They are kept in the library when not in use. The past of all living things—that is to say, of everything that is doomed to die—all the sins and virtues they commit are carefully recorded in the shape of a book.”

“Rather like a book for their Doomsday,” remarked (Y/N). The coincidence was unlikely to be chance.

“Yes,” said Sebastian.

Ciel nodded and turned to Undertaker. “Undertaker, I need you to help me with something.”

“If so, bestow the finest of laughs upon…” Undertaker looked at Grell dressed up in his clothes and grinned. “On second thought, my service will be free this time.

“Wasn’t the infiltration supposed to be difficult?” muttered Ciel after the cramped ride in coffins (courtesy of Undertaker). Instead of anything seriously difficult, the man at the gate allowed them to walk beside him as he guided the cart of coffins farther into the monastery.

“Yes, indeed, it should have been,” said Sebastian.

They passed a nun and a monk, and all three cult members smiled to them cheerfully as they passed.

“Impeccable smiles, aren’t they?” muttered Ciel.

“The smiles of those too foolish to understand their own stupidity,” said (Y/N) brightly as they came upon the church itself.

Inside were stained glass windows with depictions of saints and angels. Wooden pews lined the stone floors, and a dais with a pulpit headed the room.

“Good evening!” Several little boys ran into the room, all dressed identically (it really was the typical cult). “Good evening! Today was a wonderful day again, don’t you think?”

“Oh, they are so cute,” cooed Grell. “I have no real care for kids, though.”

“Good evening, Miss Unclean,” said one of the little boys to Grell. “You really are dirty, through and through.”

Ordinarily, (Y/N) would find Grell getting called out entertaining, but at the use of the words “unclean” and “dirty,” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. Those words were far too familiar.

“What?!” snapped Grell.

“Did something happen, Miss Unclean? Are you feeling unwell?” asked another boy.

Grell hit him over the head. “You brat! Leave the ‘unclean,’ out, you hear?!”

“Ah! I was touched by an Unclean!” cried the boy. “I must be cleansed!” He and the other boys ran away from Grell into a hallway as a nun walked out.

The nun chuckled and smiled softly. “After a certain age, all people are considered impure.” She gazed at the four present. “Judging by your clothes, you are recent converts. Don’t worry, once initiated into the teachers of the Founder, you will be purified.”

“Sebastian,” said Ciel. “Get answers.” It was an order.

“Impure? That is strange to here,” said Sebastian, obeying. He began to walk towards the nun. “Such a beautiful lady as yourself could not possibly be tainted.” The nun blushed at him as he stood before her, her back to the wall.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, and their irises flashed fuchsia possessively.

“I know close to nothing about this religious society,” said Sebastian. “Could you explain it to me in detail?” He smirked sinfully.

“Of course…” The nun blushed and squirmed under his gaze. “But then, what are you…!”

Sebastian’s hand slammed into the door by the nun’s head. She squeaked, and he leaned close with a smirk. “There was a bug.” He stood up to his full height, towering over the extremely-attracted-to-him nun. “Now, you will tell me everything, won’t you?”

“Y-Yes,” stammered the nun. “If you’ll…come with me…” Sebastian took her by the arm and guided her out of the room.

When he caught (Y/N)’s eye, he was surprised to see their arms crossed, nails almost claws as they gripped their arms tight enough to leave marks. Sebastian’s grip faltered on the nun’s arm.

But he had his orders.

“Oh, no~! I’ll become unclean!” gasped the nun within the stables as Ciel, (Y/N), and Grell stood outside. Ciel looked uncomfortable, Grell was growling, and (Y/N)…Well, they were close to murder, and Ciel and Grell were a careful distance away, even if they didn’t understand why they looked that way.

“Ah! I can see it! The gate to Heaven!” cried the nun.

“Tch,” said Sebastian under his breath. This was not enjoyable in the slightest.

Outside, (Y/N) tapped their claw-sharp nails against the wooden fence, light scratches digging into the wood. The thought of that prissy, good-two-shoes, prudish, fool of a human touching Sebastian made every demonic instinct hiss for blood. They knew Sebastian owed them no loyalty—they had merely been mentor and apprentice, and he would barely admit to them being actual friends with some sort of bond—but (Y/N) couldn’t stand a naïve little human touching him.

Grell could see (Y/N)’s eyes turn fuchsia and their claws appearing, and ordinarily she would comment on how attractive they appeared, but for once Grell made the smart decision under the (correct) assumption that one wrong word could get her head torn off.

“Oh!” cried the nun.

(Y/N)’s claws shattered the fence.

“The Doomsday Books of those who live a long life become tainted,” explained the nun as she brushed her disheveled hair. She sat in the hay with her dress on as Ciel, Grell, Sebastian, and (Y/N) listened to her. “The Founder purifies a part of the taint recorded in the Book for us. He also says the Doomsday Book contains a record of both the past and the future.”

“Oh? The future, he says?” remarked Sebastian, but his eyes slid to (Y/N) as he saw the dark look in their eyes.

“However, the only ones to learn about that are the children chosen for the Heavenly Choir,” said the nun.

“Heavenly Choir? Are they singing hymns or something?” said Ciel.

The nun blushed. “The nuances of it are probably somewhat different from simple singing. They let their beautiful voices be heard from the Founder’s bedroom.”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed in disgust. Perfect, a place to focus their anger—disgusting perverts that exerted their power over others. (Y/N) would tear them to shreds as soon as they were given the chance.

And then they might kill that nun, too. But that would be just for fun.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

#one hell of a love #x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #demon!reader #demon reader #sebastian x demon!reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler fic #black butler x reader #black butler ciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji

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mouthfullofmunson · 2 years

Text

Okay but Eddie and witch reader

They are both the freaks of Hawkins

She is pinned as the baby eating witch and he is a cult leader, both probably “devil worshippers”

She’s 18 and he’s 20 ofc

I think their styles are a lot alike, dark clothes, both with curly/wavy shag haircuts

They both have shitty families who kind of abandoned them

He lives with his uncle and she lives with her aunt

she even lives a couple trailers down from him

And to cope with their shitty lives they became obsessed with their “weird” interests

Eddie, d&d and guitar. Y/n crystals and all things witchcraft

They both know of each other but haven’t talked enough to really know each other

But they’ve been teased for absolutely forever and people making rumors that they were together

So one day they bump into each other and Eddie is teasing “hi baby eating witch”

“Hi cult leader”

And when they need to find a sub for hellfire since lucas has a game, Eddie goes to y/n to see if she knows how to play

And sadly, she doesn’t, but she is very willing to learn

So Eddie let’s her observe the hellfire game, making sure she takes notes during it and watches every move

And before they know it they are hanging out after school while Eddie teachers her how to play d&d

And since she was so willing to learn what he thinks is kind of boring to her he makes a deal with her and let’s her teach him about the crystals she’s always carrying and the witchcraft books she always reads

So she lends him a few books about witchcraft and he actually reads them- or attempts to

And his friends notice it before him

“Eddie are you… are you reading a book?”

They all watch him flip through the book at lunch

“Yeah, why does it matter to you?”

“You never read?”

“I read stuff!”

“Is it because of that girl? You have to be in love with her to be reading an actual book!”

And that’s when he realizes that he actually has a crush on the baby eating witch

So he becomes hyper aware of it when they hang out for their little lessons

And y/n notices that he’s being weird so she tries to say something but he shuts her down

“No I’m not being weird?! You’re being weird. You’re the weirdo.”

“Yeah, you’re just being extra weird today, freak.”

And he’s so terrified but he keeps looking at her lips while she talks and y/n notices it and gets frustrated after he ignores her words and watches her lips so she finally leans in and kisses him

And she’s surprised at how much she likes it

But she’s also had a thing for him since she was in the third grade and he was a big fifth grader

But he taste like cigarettes and the orange juice he stole from the cafeteria at school, drinking it straight out of the carton

Eddie is completely frozen but his brain forces him to move his lips with hers

And once she pulls away he is completely breathless

And a little terrified

Because he’s not had many kisses like that in his life

Most girls just want a quick hook up with him because they guessed he was desperate and wouldn’t tell anyone as long as they gave him a fuck- which was partly right…

And he freaks out a little until

“Why are you so shocked? You’ve been watching my mouth like a hawk for an hour now.”

And his head is racing and he cant help but think about what else her mouth can do 😕

So of course he pops a boner after the kiss

And there is no hiding it

When y/n notices she’s instantly flattered, and excited that Eddie munson has a hard on because of her

So she sinks onto his laundry covered floor and sits between his legs, asking him if she can pull his pants down

And beside answering her questions all he can do is lean back on his hands and watch with wide eyes and his mouth slightly ajar

He could believe the girl he read a book for actually likes him back, and actually kissed him, and is giving him a blow job?!

I think he would cum kind of quick

He didn’t know she had him so worked up until he finally got her

And then when she sits there, wiping her eyes and trying to catch her breath, he instantly feels guilty and knows he should return the favor

So he’s offering to eat her out- insisting actually, even though she said it’s no big deal and he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want

But he does want

He’s fantasies about her taste far too long to pass up the opportunity

Especially when he was peeking up her skirts any chance he got to see if she was bare under or if her thin panties showed the print of her

So they trade spots and he gets on his knees, helping her pull her dark blue lace panties down her thighs before he’s diving him

Hoping everything he’s doing feels good because he’s only had quick fucks with people who only bothered to get dick and leave

So he was worried especially since he never got the chance to give head before

Just doing whatever make her moan the loudest

And when she cums he’s so proud of himself

Having to refrain from jumping up, run around the trailer, then come back and get a double high five from her

It becomes a normal thing

Calling y/n over every other night so they can give each other head, maybe teach each other about d&d or witch craft, nap, and then she’s back to her trailer

And y/n invites him over to her trailer, apologizing for the overwhelming smell of incense, her aunt was a huge hippie and taught her everything she knew

So the trailer was decked out in witchy decor, loud colors, beaded curtains everywhere

And Eddie is so shocked her room is so nice, moon printed midnight blue bedding with neat little rugs by her bed and by her desk, no trash on the floor, no porno mags, her clothes all clean and neatly hung up or folded

And that night they finally have sex, candles going and the smell of y/n’s ‘full moon’ incense burning into their clothes

And they both decide that that’s when they are officially boyfriend and girlfriend

But they don’t acknowledge it until Eddie passes on plans with Dustin because he’s “going over to his girlfriends house” that night for a “family dinner”

Which means Wayne is coming over on his day off and meeting his sons girlfriend aunt for the first time and they are having a proper meeting

Wayne and y/n’s aunt would hit it off

And y/n’s aunt would absolutely adore Eddie

And Wayne would love y/n

Wayne would get so happy when y/n came over and he was there to sit and have a cup of coffee with her because she’s just so nice to talk to, there’s no work in the conversation it’s always light and breezy

And y/n’s aunt would be so excited when Eddie came over for a proper dinner instead of y/n shoving them in her room all night, only coming out when they want snacks

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