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friendlyneighborhoods-spiderman · 1 year

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The forgotten child

Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker

Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)

Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him

a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!

you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.

always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.

all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.

but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.

you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time

you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.

you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.

you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.

it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.

your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.

"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.

"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.

"Becoming like my son."

once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.

you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.

"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.

you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.

you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.

a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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irisintheafterglow · 2 months

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but who wants to live forever, babe?

summary: you're too sweet for dabi.

wc: 1.45k

cw/tags: gn!reader but dabi calls them pretty, swearing, brief reference to blood and injury, pet names (doll, baby, pretty), dialogue driven, emotionally constipated touya todoroki

note: this is very shamelessly written because of hozier lol. hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

You were irritating, excessively irritating.

You woke up too early to watch the sunrise and stayed out too late to see constellations. You lingered in flower shops to touch the prettiest blooms and gave the last of your coins to street musicians. You were the first to suggest the tastiest food around and always volunteered to pay for everyone’s meals, no matter how large the group. You were thoughtful, selfless, and frustratingly kind. He wouldn’t have as much of a problem with it if you weren’t the deadliest killer-for-hire in Musutafu’s criminal underground.

“You’re too nice,” Dabi says one night after a period of calm silence following the chaos of him crashing through your window and bleeding all over your floor. You glance at him from your spot on the windowsill, peering carefully over the construction blueprints for the following day’s assignment. He sits up with a groan, his hand grabbing the the spot on his abdomen you’d stitched up a few hours prior. “It’s infuriating.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice, you know,” you deadpan and he scoffs, wincing when pain shoots across his side. “Had it been anyone else who broke into my apartment, I’d have to deal with a fully dead body instead of a semi-dead one.”

“That’s exactly my point,” he argues, straining his arm to grab the cup of water on the side table. Before he can get a good grip on it, you stand and snatch it from his fingers, holding it enticingly with a hand propped on your hip. “C’mon, doll. Now, you’re just being mean.”

“I’m being nicer than you are,” you counter with an iron grip around the cup. “Calling me infuriating after I just saved your barbecued ass from dying. Didn’t your mom ever teach you manners?”

“My mom didn’t teach me jack shit,” he reminds you, making another futile swipe for the water that you easily pull away. “What do you want me to do, take it back?” You shake your head with a tired sigh, finally handing him the cup. “I’m not taking it back,” he mumbles as you sit on the edge of the bed. Against his better judgment, he doesn’t immediately flinch away when you reach out to check his bandages, your fingers brushing delicately across his skin.

“I know you aren’t,” you murmur absentmindedly.

“Aren’t you gonna ask why?”

“Why should I? It’s not like you’re going to tell me why you hate me,” you concede and a muscle in his jaw tenses.

“Stop being a brat and just ask.” You resist the urge to jab your pointer finger straight into his stab wound but settle for pulling back your hand from his body, leaving him craving your touch no matter how his logic told him to resist. He has half the mind to reach out and grab your hand, part of him ready to beg you to just stay with him. But, when his palm covers the top of your hand, it sits there awkwardly until he clenches it into a fist and pulls away. He tries another tactic. “Look, all I’m saying is you shouldn’t open your window for every stranger that crawls up your fire escape.”

“But you’re not a stranger, as much as I wish you were one.” You return to your papers at the windowsill and he’s alone in the bed again.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me you’re lying.” His voice is almost too quiet for you to hear it break. Almost.

“No,” you admit. “Of course, I don’t mean it.” You were looking at him too softly, too tenderly. Taking him in, stitching him up, and letting him rest while you kept watch was infintely more than what he deserved, especially after banging on your window and immediately passing out when you opened it. “Tell me you don’t mean what you said.”

“I do, though.” You nod and he watches your walls go up in real-time, closing yourself up so his words, good or bad, can’t get through. A million thoughts of panic race through every nerve in his body and only one command makes its way through: Fix it.

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Your blank expression becomes a frown and you look ready to kick him out onto the streets, or at least reopen his wound. “Let me explain first before you beat the shit out of me.”

“You have thirty seconds.”

“I think you’re too good for me,” he declares simply. He can’t see his truth make your heart stutter. “I think you’re too good for this life in general, and I think you should get out of it.” You scoff humorlessly, rolling your eyes to the side.

“Because you hate me?”

“Because I don’t,” he corrects. You dare to meet his eye and feel your breath catch in your throat. His eyes are shining bluer than you’d ever seen them before, the scarce moonlight leaking through your window catching in his eyes just right. They’re scorching, hotter and more intense than anything his Quirk could create. “I should, but by some cruel twist of Fate, there are no words for how desperate I feel when I’m not with you, however much I despise that feeling.” In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t be able to waterboard this information out of him; yet here he was, bitterly lovesick and scowling as he told you that he’d rather burn alive than hate you. You fail to stifle a laugh and his scowl deepens. “You laughing at me?”

“A little bit, yeah,” you confess, standing to check his temperature with a hand on his forehead. It’s scathing hot and you suddenly notice the shivers he was trying to conceal. “You must be delirious if you’re admitting this all out loud, and you’re probably going to start burning up if you continue talking.”

“I’m not delirious,” he grumbles. “And it’s normal for me to get like this when I… overdo it on missions.” Your mouth opens in understanding and he lets you touch his forehead once more to confirm the fever. “I figured you’d know this by now after all the times you’ve had to fix me.”

“Forgive me for thinking that you were becoming ill because you were forced to say one nice thing about me,” you say with a smirk, grabbing a small towel and heading to the bathroom. His voice calls after you while you turn on the cold water.

“There you go again with your stupid sweet-talking sarcasm. You can at least acknowledge what I just confessed to you.” You chuckle again and re-approach him at the bed, draping the wet towel over his forehead and gently pushing him back onto the pillow. “You’re doing it again.” You make a split-second decision to mess with him, just for the hell of it.

“Doing what, baby?” The petname disarms him and he blinks at you once, then twice before regaining consciousness.

“Being too sweet for me,” he manages to force out and you let yourself smile at his obvious blush. You flip over the cloth to the cooler side and he sighs, closing his eyes in contentment. “You don’t do this with everyone, do you?”

“No, Touya,” you answer patiently and something in his chest tightens at the use of his true name. He’d forgotten he told you his true identity, most likely a result of a circumstance similar to the one you were in where he was too tired and weak to think clearly. “You are the only one I will take care of and allow to barge through my window at three in the morning. Not because I’m ‘too sweet,’ like you say, but because I care about you. Got it?”

“Mmm. Yeah,” he rasps. “Thanks, doll. You mind getting in here with me? I’ll sleep better if–”

“You don’t even need to ask,” you finish, slipping under the covers and settling against his chest. “Just stop being an asshole for a second.”

“Hey, careful on the–”

“I’m aware of your wound, stupid,” you interject. “I’m the one who fixed it, remember?”

“Right. Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, his lips brushing the top of your forehead. The tension in his body gradually dissipates the longer your skin is against his. “Can we sleep now?”

“If you shut up for long enough, yeah,” you joke and he lightly pinches your side.

“I finally get in bed with you and you’re not so sweet anymore.” You snort against his chest. “What happened?”

“I think we both have a lot to learn about each other. For now, please shut up and sleep.”

“As you wish, pretty.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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damianbugs · 1 year

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If you r still doing the fic recs, what are some good Bruce and Jason ones? I'm going insane

HELLO. oh my gosh. you know, since exam month has officially begun, i should be studying, but like, why would i do that when i could be doing this instead? this is like. so much more productive for my happiness.

it's no secret i am not normal absolutely totally insane about bruce and jason and OF COURSE i will rec you fics of them. i have 150+ bookmarks of fics just centred around them so i really tried to narrow it down to a few of my favourites. if you ever need anymore please ask again!

what a truly disastrous tragedy they are. the blueprint i fear. no fictional father and son has impacted me more. jason and bruce fic writers lace their works in crack because once you read one, you are stuck forever. there is no escape. trust me. anyways!

BRUCE AND JASON FIC RECS

don't take your guns to town by kreestar

batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne.

MY NOTES: no one is surprised at all that the first fic on this list is time travel. the characterisation in this was insanely good especially between young bruce and jason i loved their parts. so bittersweet and the ending was lovely!

I Will Always Be There For You by squashflower

There's a closet in the manor that locks you inside. It has no lighting or heating or air conditioning of any kind, and Jason, safe to say, wishes he could burn it to the ground. Or shoot it. One of the two.

MY NOTES: there is just something so good about stories where it switches from robin jason to an experience mirrored by red hood jason and this is the perfect example. so so good.

all the small weights by sparkycap

When Batman gets hit with fear toxin, he worries about his Robins. His Robins think it's their job to deal with it. Jason wasn't aware anyone still included him in that group, but according to Tim, he's the only one available.

MY NOTES: fear toxin the trope that keeps on giving. best thing about this though is that the actual fear toxin is not the main part of the story, and i think it was handled so beautifully and maturely in a way i haven't seen before. i cried (twice).

-> just an aside, but i think you should read the other bruce and jason work by this specific writer. they're all insanely good.

Mermaid Tears by minnow_doodle_doo

And if real mermaid tears were what Jason wanted the world to have, Bruce would make Aquaman cry glass.

MY NOTES: teehee sorry for recommending ur own fic in ur ask minnow but this fic is just so sweet and special i need everyone to read it. a wonderful look into that all encompassing love bruce had for jason when things were much simpler for them.

Aftermath by ivy_and_ivory

Now: Batman is in Paris, pulled there by a case that extends beyond Gotham’s borders, when circumstances lead him to a badly injured Red Hood – who might hold the key to Batman’s investigation.

Then: The Red Hood storms into Gotham, begins to stake his claim on the criminal underground, then abruptly disappears – but only after he breaks into Arkham Asylum and leaves the Joker dead in his own cell.

Or: A study of why Bruce couldn’t kill the Joker, what would happen if someone else could – and how you move on from the aftermath.

MY NOTES: you know when you find a fic and you're just like. oh my god. this is it. this is exactly what i wanted. this is all that matters. yeah. that's this fic to me. im sort of obsessed with the idea of batman bonding with red hood without making the direct connection that it's jason.

A Straight Blade by Sparkypants

"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw. "You're bleeding." Jason bristles, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and wipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody. Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks. Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. He's five years late, but Bruce finally teaches Jason how to shave.

MY NOTES: i am so okay so normal about this fic. such a sweet little happy story but i was literally looking down at my screen squinting through my blurry vision because i was tearing up. the unknowing domestic simplicities of being father and son (hysterical sobbing)

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden

Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.

MY NOTES: okay so i think the best way to end this post is with the first ever bruce and jason centric work i ever read that changed the chemicals in my brain forever. THIS is the fic that made me really latch onto their relationship and want to see that reconciliation and recovery. THE roadtrip fic ever.

#bruce wayne #jason todd #oh how they r so important #batfamily fic recs #saki batfam fic recs #batman #red hood #robin ii

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impala-dreamer · 6 months

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Try It On

A Supernaturally Adorable Story

~Y/N and Dean like to spend their days off fooling around in the Bunker, and one particularly foolish day, they stumble into a room, and some items, she's never seen before...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

3,850 Words

Warnings: It's... Fluffy, Banter-y, Cute, Sexy, Kissy, Fun

A/N: This is for my free space for @jacklesversebingo ! And... special thanks to @deanwinchesterswitch for helping make the awesome art and showing me how to be better at that in general :)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The thing you have to understand about the Men of Letters Bunker in Lebanon is that- it’s huge. Well, huge isn’t really the right word. It would be more accurate to describe it as massive- and deceptively so. Not only does it reach down two stories into the earth, but it’s also full of twists and turns and magic. Hallways seem to stretch on forever, lined with horizontal black tiles that trick the eye into believing there’s a dead-end where instead there’s a turn. There are forks in the road that elicit directional anxiety, staircases that lead nowhere, and hidden doorways that if taken, can lead to a random spot in the Bunker that seemed accessible only from the outside.

Once, Y/N had slipped through a small door in the Mechanical Room that she thought was a closet, only to end up standing behind the giant telescope in the Library.

Door numbers played games with her, multiplying and changing. Rooms appeared and disappeared, moved seemingly by magic, or perhaps only in her mind. It was impossible to navigate too far from the main areas without a map, or at the very least, her cell in hand should she accidentally get stuck somewhere new.

As far as Sam knew, there was only one map of the Bunker - the original blueprints to be exact - and the more he studied it, the more he realized that most of the underground lair was not included in the plans.

Life in the Bunker was nice. The cavernous rooms seemed to echo the quiet in a comforting way and although it was usually a little chilly, it was nice to be able to snuggle up in a big sweater or cuddle down in a blanket while reading in the Library. It was easy to find yourself with alone time, and even easier to sneak around in the shadows, finding fun ways to keep occupied while the monsters plotted beyond the big doors.

Those fun ways generally involved some kind of chase between Y/N and Dean which usually, if not always, ended with a trail of flannel leading into either’s bedroom. ‘Sex Tag’, Dean had dubbed it, though Y/N liked to pretend they were a tad less obvious and called it simply, ‘Hide and Seek’.

Last Thursday, one such game was in play. Y/N was the aggressor this time, quickly stalking Dean through the tunnels, her socked feet silent yet slippery on the highly polished tile floor. She raced around corners with a hand on the wall for stability and still almost always wiped out. Around such a turn, she caught a break as Dean, obviously somewhere nearby, let out a breathy laugh.

She spun to her left and spotted him halfway down the right hallway, leaning casually against the tiles. His bare ankles were crossed and off to the side, his arms were folded across his chest, navy Henley stretching sinfully over his biceps. His chin was low and he looked up with a devilish smirk, letting her know that despite having given away his location, he had no intention of letting her catch him yet.

“Caught you,” she announced, taking a short step towards him. She set her hands on her hips and stared him down.

Dean licked his lips and bit back a smile, forcing the tiny dimples above his mouth to pop. “Uh, you ain’t caught me yet…”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You really gonna make me come all the way over there?”

In one slick motion, Dean pushed himself away from the wall and dragged a hand back through his short hair. He peered over at her, green eyes dark with temptation. “Only if you wanna win.”

Y/N clicked her tongue, daring him to move. “I found you- that’s usually enough to garner a win.”

He turned to face her full on, bowed legs spread shoulder-width apart. He let his arms hang down as if he were at ease, but she knew he was ready to bolt.

“Usually,” he agreed.

“But not today?”

He sucked his teeth and shook his head slowly. “Not today.”

Y/N took a step toward him. “No?”

Long fingers tensed against worn denim. “No. Today it’s a tag or nothing.”

She took another step and Dean’s jaw twitched.

“So, if I grab your ass,” she asked, “I win?”

Plump lips curled on one side. “If you can catch me, sure.”

She took a deep breath.

He mirrored.

She held in the air and took a step.

He lingered, daring, teasing.

On her exhale, Y/N pushed off on her right foot and broke into a run, her arms pumping, thighs straining to pick up speed while simultaneously fighting to stay upright on the slippery ground.

Dean waited exactly seven seconds before retreating. He spun on the spot; the balls of his bare feet squeaking gently on the tiles as he took off. The first few yards he dashed at full speed, just to put some space between himself and the huntress, but after a peek over his shoulder, he slowed, shifting into first gear. It wasn’t a Sex Tag if she didn’t eventually catch him, after all.

Y/N’s heart was pounding, skin heating up, muscles thrumming with adrenaline. Once close enough to smell the lingering aftershave on his neck, she reached out and grabbed blindly for him, catching the collar of his shirt and tugging hard.

Dean gasped at the sudden pull and his arms shot out at his sides, balancing even as Y/N jerked him backwards. She slipped as they both came to a screeching halt, and Dean caught her just before she hit the floor, surely saving her from a bruise or two.

Out of breath and victorious, Y/N straightened up and pushed at his chest, slamming him back into the wall. “Gotcha!”

He lifted his chin above her forearm and made a play of being pinned even though they both knew he could slip away without much effort.

“Still haven’t won yet,” he informed her.

Y/N huffed and reached an arm around him, grabbing his left ass cheek hard.

Dean held in a yelp.

“How ‘bout now?”

He grinned, drew his bottom lip in between his front teeth. “I fold.”

“Thought you might.”

To seal the deal, Y/N pushed up on her toes and kissed him hard. The arm barring his chest dropped and Dean wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer and spinning so she was against the wall.

His tongue slid across her lips and her hands slipped down his chest. He bucked his hips against her and she moaned through the kiss. Her fingers bunched up around his stomach, grabbing at the navy fabric, wanting him closer.

He shivered and trailed his lips across her cheek, dropped a kiss by her ear, let out a heavy breath that prickled her skin.

“Want you,” he growled, rocking into her once more. “Now.”

Delicate fingers tucked up beneath his shirt and scraped down his belly. Y/N drew a finger across his hip bone and looked up at him, teeth snagged, eyes glazed beneath batting lashes.

“Right here.”

It wasn’t a question.

Dean pushed himself up, set his hand on the wall beside her, stared down with a shy grin. “Yeah?”

She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and tugged. “Yeah. Right here.”

Green eyes went wide and freckled cheeks blushed. Hesitantly, he dropped his right hand to her breast and felt for her nipple through the layers of fabric.

Y/N arched her back against the wall, pushing her chest out and moaning loudly.

The echo scared him and Dean looked cautiously over his shoulders.

“What? Afraid your brother’s lurking?” she teased.

He huffed out a sarcastic laugh but looked back again, certain they’d be caught. “Yeah… OK, maybe a little.”

Y/N held his gaze and snapped her fingers over his jeans, popping the brass button open. He hissed as her hand snuck down inside; the zipper easing open to give her more room.

“Someday,” she whispered, drawing his attention closer as she traced his quickly stiffening cock with her thumb. “I’ll get you to indulge my public sex fantasy…”

His eyes went wide when she cupped his dick in her warm hand. “Fuck!”

Quickly but reluctantly, he pulled her hand away and reached for the doorknob on her left. The lock was in place and he issued an annoyed huff.

Y/N watched as he fumbled with the door across the way - also locked - and then cleared her throat.

“We can just go back to my place,” she offered. “Though, I’m not quite sure how to get back there…”

Dean was already on the next door. “No, no. We’re gonna… just… find a spot to hide in… and- yes!” The fourth door he tried opened and he waved Y/N over.

She followed through the portal and nearly stumbled into him as the darkness devoured them both.

Just a bit scared, Y/N spun around as Dean shut the door. “A little light would be nice!”

“Workin’ on it!”

She took a step backward and hit an unexpectedly soft barrier. She turned, feeling with cautious hands, a wall of hanging fabrics. Confused, she reached higher and felt a metal rod and plastic hangers.

“Is this…”

Dean found his way to the switch and two hanging lights flipped on.

“... a closet-” Y/N’s excitement grew when her eyes adjusted. “What… on earth…”

Dean hummed curiously. “Oh shit. I didn’t realize we were over here.”

Y/N took a look around. “Where exactly is here?”

“South of the kitchen,” he replied. “Or east. I can’t remember.”

She was awed.

It was a bedroom, or at least, used to be. The layout was familiar. The standard full bed with its ugly green blanket was there, as was the writing desk and the random sink against the front wall. Everything was the same except for the massive collection of costumes. The perimeter was lined with bulging clothing racks and boxes filled with shoes. Hats of all varieties hung on nails hammered into the plaster walls and ties in just about every shade of blue and red were neatly displayed on a hanging rack by the door.

With an amused smile growing on her lips, Y/N ran her hands over the shirts on the left side of the room and plucked a brightly colored Hawiian shirt from the rack. She turned, holding it up for Dean to see.

“This yours?” She held in a laugh.

He clicked his tongue and grabbed at the hanger, pulling it away. “Hey. I like this shirt.”

“It’s… loud.”

He glared. “It’s a disguise, OK?” Carefully, he put the flowered button-down back in its place. “They all are.”

“Not a very subtle one,” she joked, shaking her head as she flipped through the rack. “Oh my…”

Next, she pulled free a leather jacket and caressed it gently. “Now this- I like this.”

Dean rolled his eyes as she shrugged on the quilted leather. “Of course you do. Chicks dig guys in leather.”

Y/N fit her arms into the long sleeves and popped the collar up around her neck. “Whatcha think?” She posed for him and Dean stood back, checking her out.

“Very hot. You got a real… Rizzo vibe goin’ on.”

She tongued her cheek and popped a hip his way. “Yeah? You gonna mark me up, Kenickie?”

Dean whistled and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “You better believe it…”

Y/N chewed her lip and took a step, ready to attack him. Before she could get the momentum, a dirty mustard-colored sleeve grabbed her attention and she shifted course.

“Is that?” She tugged the costume from the rack and held it up to look it over. “When were you a fireman?”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know- years ago.”

“And you kept the outfit?”

He shrugged. “Yeah… I guess.”

She narrowed her eyes curiously and leaned in, taking a sniff of the coat. It was musty but unburned. “Why?”

Something stirred inside and Dean felt suddenly like he had to defend himself from her scrutiny, but at the same time, he couldn’t figure out why. His answer came out in a stumble of letters that tried to climb over and inside each other.

“It’s not- don’t- you just- who- I don’t know!” In a snit, he grabbed the suit and shoved it back in its place. “Do you have to touch everything?”

Y/N held her amusement inside. “Yes. Yes I do.”

Twirling around him, she jumped up and tipped a tan Stetson from its hook. It fell onto his head easily and Y/N nodded in approval.

“Awesome.”

Dean inhaled deeply, pushing down his annoyance even as his cheeks burned. “Yeah, yeah… go on. Make fun of me.”

“Oh, I will never make fun of Cowboy Dean.”

He looked up at her from under the brim and she winked, soothing his hurt.

Feeling guilty, Y/N sashayed up to him and lifted his chin with two fingers. “I think it’s cool that you kept all this.”

His brows creased. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Absolutely. Even cooler that you got to wear it all. I’ve only ever gone undercover as a Fed. This is…” She paused and looked around the room. Lab coats and police uniforms and bright orange construction vest looked back at her. “This is cool.”

Dean softened and fit his arm around her waist, hand flat on the small of her back. “You were a doctor once, if I remember…”

“A lab tech,” she corrected, lightly jabbing a finger into his chest.

He nodded. “Ah, right. I remember you in that white coat… and that tiny skirt that barely covered your-”

“Hey!”

She slapped him and he lunged for her, stealing her breath with a deep kiss. Wrapping her fingers around the open collar of his shirt, Y/N tugged him closer, licked into his mouth, hummed at the sugary taste of him. A late breakfast of black coffee and a powdered donut lingered on his tongue.

His eyes were closed when she pulled back, his pouty lips puckered and searching for more. She laughed.

“Know what’d be super hot?” she whispered, walking her fingers up to loop around the nape of his neck.

Dean set his hands on her hips, thumbs cutting circles in the soft flesh beneath her shirt. “What’s that?”

She spun away again and waltzed to the other side of the room, plucking a disguise from the rack at random. Without looking, she tossed it at Dean who caught it before the hanger poked his eye out.

“Wear it for me,” she said, desire dripping from her lips.

“You’re crazy,” he laughed.

Y/N pouted and fluttered her eyes at him. “Come on, Dean… try it on.”

Intrigued, he examined the outfit she’d chosen. It was the pale blue shirt and dark slacks of a navy uniform, complete with white Dixie Cup hat.

“You’re serious.”

She nodded. “I am.”

He fiddled with the buttons. “Yeah… I’m not doin’ that.”

“Come on, baby… put on a show for me…”

He felt a twinge in his gut and blood rushed to his cock. He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Have a seat…”

Stetson returned safely to its hook, Dean rearranged the rack by the door so he could hide behind it as he changed. The move wasn’t out of modesty, as there wasn’t much privacy left between them, but purely for the game.

Y/N appreciated the little touch and set herself up on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for the show to begin. From the corner of her eye, she spied a cardboard box on the floor with a glinting bit of chrome inside.

The chrome trimmed out the edges of an old yet professional looking camera and Y/N held in a delighted laugh. Stealing it, she set herself up in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, fingers learning the buttons. By the time Dean was ready, so was she.

Dean cleared his throat and lifted his voice up over the dividing rack. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

Y/N bit her lip and closed one eye, looking through the lens finder with the other. “Ready, Commander!”

With much dramatic flare, Dean whipped around the rack and appeared in all his naval glory. Gone was his soft Henley and loose, old jeans, replaced by the tight slacks and tucked-in button down shirt. The cap sat tilted on his skull and his eyes bright; playful yet shy.

“Actually, Miss,” he corrected, “that’s Ensign Winchester.”

“You demoted yourself,” she laughed. “Fun.”

Before he could snap back with something clever, a snap disturbed him.

So engrossed in his own costume, Dean hadn’t noticed the long, black camera lens pointed at him.

She snapped a quick shot, then another.

“Perfect…” Two more in quick succession. “Give us a twirl, will ya?”

Shocked and embarrassed, Dean struggled to cover himself by grabbing a gray phone operator’s jumpsuit from the rack.

Y/N whistled. “Oh, yes! That one next!”

Dean scoffed. “In your dreams.” He heard another click of the camera and ripped the cap from his head. “Quit it, will ya?”

“Nope. This is great stuff. Very sexy.”

He groaned. “I hate you so much right now.”

Pouting, she dropped the camera onto the bed and leaned back on her arms, hands barely sinking into the ancient mattress. “Oh, come on…”

Looking up, he found her playfully sad and couldn’t resist the puckered frown of her pretty lips or the fake tears brewing in her beautiful eyes.

He sighed heavily and let the jumpsuit fall to the floor in a heap of cheap polyester. “Fine.”

Arms out, he took a step into the middle of the room and did a quick spin, showing off how tightly the pants hugged his cute little ass.

Y/N grinned and held in a hungry moan. “That’s it, Ensign. Back that thang up.”

Rolling his eyes, he gave her a little shake and then walked away, returning to his sanctuary behind the rack.

“What’s next?” she asked, retrieving the camera and fiddling with the settings.

“Nothing.”

“You’re no fun…”

He was glad the clothing was hiding his smile. Of course he was going to model for her. He’d do just about anything she asked, apparently including, playing dress up on a random Thursday afternoon.

He cleared the smile from his throat and turned up the gruff. “Hold your horses!”

Y/N hid a laugh. “Oh, is there a full cowboy outfit I should know about?”

Dean clicked his tongue. “There is. But dream on.”

“I sure will…”

Fabric rustled and the rack shook a little.

Y/N toyed with the zoom. “Where’s this camera from, anyway? There’s still film in it.”

“Sam sometimes pulls that out when we do the journalist cover. I think he just likes playing with big, long things.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably. Though, I don’t think he needs to compensate for anything.”

Startled, Dean’s head popped up over the rack and he glared at her.

“Nevermind…” She batted her lashes and away his concern.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Show me something sexy,” she urged, wiggling on the bed to get comfortable.

“Sexy, huh?” He adjusted his sleeves and took a breath. “How’s this for sexy?”

Around the corner came Mr. Winchester in a dark brown uniform with matching pants and shirt, black belt and a shiny badge over his heart.

She was confused. “UPS driver?”

He scoffed and smoothed out the shirt. “Park Ranger!” Turning, he showed off the patch on his right shoulder. “Love this one. I look good in brown.”

Y/N snapped a few pictures but ultimately vetoed the outfit. “No one looks good in head-to-toe brown.”

Dean scowled and slunk off to change yet again.

Next, a white bit of plastic was fit around his throat and his hair was quickly parted on the side, raked through by thick fingers. The black clerics of a priest were intriguing, but Y/N felt funny kissing a holy man, so she quickly pushed Father Dean away.

A set of green surgeon scrubs were documented but waved away, as were two ill-fitting lab coats of varying lengths, although Y/N thought to sneak a stethoscope away for later.

When Dean revealed what he thought would seal the deal, he was met with nothing but such roaring laughter as to give Y/N a coughing fit.

“What? My legs are sexy!”

Y/N tried to calm herself, but the sight of Dean in tiny red gym shorts and sweat bands around his forehead and wrists was simply too much for her to take.

“When- what- where-” She nearly choked and fell back against the mattress, shielding her gaze from the costume.

With a devastated sigh, Dean turned and ripped the white polo from his back. “Ya know, I was a damned good gym teacher that week!”

“Flag on the play, babe,” she wheezed.

“Fine!” Defeated, he threw his hands up and shrugged. “I don’t know what you want.”

Y/N took a calming breath and scooted to the foot of the bed. “I don’t know…”

“Then I can’t give it to you!”

“Hey! Don’t yell at me. We’re just fooling around.”

He hissed. “I wanna be fooling around, that’s the point.”

“Well, then show me something I can’t resist,” she encouraged. “Find me that one outfit that turns my gears so tight they’ll snap.”

“That’s… not how gears work…”

Eyes rolled hard; teeth were sucked. “Just… you know what I mean.”

“Fine.”

Hangers were shifted about, cheap fabrics were rumpled and tossed aside.

After much foot tapping and debating, Dean made a selection at random and prepared to wave the white flag.

One foot out from behind the rack, however, he knew he had chosen wisely.

Y/N’s jaw dropped and the lens slowly lowered. Her eyes went wide and she felt her skin flush.

“Oh. Oh my…”

Curious, Dean stepped closer and opened his arms. “Really?”

Mouth watering and heart beating hard, Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I have no idea why, but that’s it.”

His brows creased. He dipped his chin and stared at her. “Really.”

Y/N licked her lips and nodded. The heat drained from her cheeks and headed downwards, traveling like his gaze over her breasts and settling between her thighs. “Really.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Don’t care,” she said quickly, standing up and reaching for him. “Get over here, professor.”

Her fingertips grazed over the thick, beige wool of his cable knit sweater, hooked around the big, wooden buttons and tugged him close.

Dean’s eyes lit up with lustful wonder.

“Actually, I was a child psychologist in this thing-”

Another tug on the bulky cardigan had him stumbling down onto the bed with her. “I don’t care. Just fuck me…”

Dean licked his lips and ghosted his fingers over the soft leather hiding her body from him. “Yes, Ma’am.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #fluff #dean x reader #jacklesversebingo23

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bredstick · 4 days

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Artist! Male reader x Architect! Kaveh

You draw Kaveh as one of your frienchgirls~

NSFW! SoftDom!Kaveh x Sub!Reader

During these 3 months of dating Kaveh, he has already grown accustomed to you asking him if he could pose for you, show you his pretty delicate hands, and in general his face. He was your official muse.

But he wasn't thinking ahead of time, what else you'd like him to show you to fulfill your, specifically said, anatomy knowledge.

When you came to Kaveh's place stressed from work, all you wanted to do is lay in your lover's arms all night. But you also wanted to ask the big question that you weren't sure when the right time would be for it, but you were impatient. "Would you please undress for me?" sounds a bit perverted, while even telling him about you wanting to draw his body makes you quite concerned that he'd be creeped out by the idea. But you were ready to risk it all, Kaveh is understanding and it wouldn't be a problem, would it?

When you made up your mind, you opened the bedroom door and upon seeing those bright red eyes, there was no way nervousness wouldn't crawl through your body. You felt sweat forming in your clutched fist, your throat closing up as Kaveh looked at you with a gentle smile, happy you came to visit him. You see, he gave you another spare key so you can come to his place freely- it took a while to convince Al Haitham to trust you with the access to their home though.

You slowly walked over to him, trying to hide your nervousness by smiling back, sitting down on his bed and letting out a big sigh. Kaveh looked at you intently, sitting at his desk with many architectural blueprints, leaning back against his chair. "How are you? There seems to be something troubling you." He says in a soft tone, fiddling with his fingers.

"Ah, it's nothing! It's just been a very tiring day for me so far.." you look away, a slight blush coating your cheeks. You were always easy to read, Kaveh thought. Deciding to know more about the true intention of your actions, he stood up from his desk and stood right infront of you, his hands on his waist.

You look up at him, feeling even more nervous by the proximity of your bodies, unable to speak at all. The most you did with Kaveh in these past couple of months was hold hands and kiss, but nothing else other than supporting eachother's lives. You weren't sure how to take a more intimate approach.

"Tell me, it can't be that bad. I hope you're not keeping anything from me!" he says, slightly pouting while looking down at you. You looked down again, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, as you mumble out your question; "Can... can you help me out with anatomy practice...?" your voice was shaky as you spoke, looking at his feet. There was a moment of silence engulfing the room, making it seem like he hasn't said a word in hours until he softly spoke up;

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? I'll always help you with your practices, no matter how embarrassing the pose may be," he chuckled lightly, looking down at you with a slight blush on his cheeks. He kneeled down, looking into your eyes as he mumbled; "Just tell me what to do. If you need any part of my clothing removed, I'll do it." Kaveh was always the one who was passionate about art, why were you even nervous?

Your stomach has never had this many butterflies floating around, looking into his eyes excitingly as you gripped your sketchbook on the bed, smiling up at him as you opened up your sketchbook.

Kaveh is now sprawled against his white silk bedsheets, almost naked if it weren't for his boxers. He looked like sleeping beauty, his little stretchmarks across his hips glowing and his soft pecs and milky toned skin, not to mention his soft pinkish nipples begging to be touched, all on display for you and you only to draw every curve and outline of his body. Your mind was racing, looking at every inch of his body, praying to god that you can imprint it into your brain forever.

"Tell me when you're done, I've thought about a pose you might like." he told you while fiddling with his boxer strap. You were too busy drawing to realise how innapropriate that sounds, humming in concentration, sitting on the bed next to him.

When you were done, you looked up at him with a smile, turning your aketchbook around to show the drawing you were very much proud of- your innocent smile dropped when you locked eyes with his- his pupils blown wide as he looked at you, biting his lip anxiously.

Your heart started beating faster, immediately realising why he was looking at you like that. Your stomach was doing backflips, trying to control yourself. "...Why aren't you saying anything?" you mumble, blush spreading across your cheeks by the sudden silence.

Kaveh sat up close to you, kooking at the drawing closely. He blushes a deep shade of red, observing every pencil stroke carefully. "You're an excellent artist, the details are perfect- and you did it in such short time!! How long has it been? Twenty minutes??" I guess he snapped out of his previous mood, you thought, as you smiled at him thanking him for the compliments.

Suddenly he took your sketchbook out of your hands, carefully putting it on his nightstand. As your face contorted into confusion, he kissed you softly.

As you were opening your mouth in protest of you not processing it at all, he quickly shoved his tongue down your throat. The sounds of heavy breaths and soft moans filled his bedroom, as he slowly pushed you down, hovering over you, not breaking the heated kiss.

Once you fully processed the situation, heat started to spread across your body, knowing what Kaveh wants. This is the first time you'll do it together. It makes you a bit nervous, but you trust him.

As you two break the kiss for some air, he looks at you softly, holding your hand as he whispers; "Do you want to... take the next step? Tell me,.." he waited in anticipation, seeing you nod loosely, "Say it please, I want you to be completely sure." "Yes," you said quickly, the nervousness taking over you yet again.

Your loud moans were heard all across his room, biting your hand to shut yourself up as every part of your body was flushed in embarrassment, your legs spread wide open with Kaveh inbetween them, fingering you skillfully.

"You're taking 2 of my fingers so well dear," he looked down at your face, gripping one of your thighs, "Can you take three for me darling?" he says slowly, your dick twitching at his words, Kaveh rubbing your tip in a circular motion. You were so immersed in the pleasure that all you could do was say a couple of words mushed up together- he slowly added another finger, causing you to whimper softly, feeling more needy every dying second of the experience. At this point you didn't care how needy you sound, so all you were mumbling about was you needing him inside of you. Kaveh found this quite adorable, looking down at you with a smirk and kissing your neck, suddenly biting down and stroking your cock quicker.

"Puh-please!! Please- hnn.." you muffled out nonsense as a big wave of pleasure danced across your body, pulling Kaveh closer by hugging his hips with your legs, making his obvious erection rub against your ass as he whimpered slightly.

As he finally put it in, he waited for a moment waiting for your plea to start moving- eventually bottoming out and gripping your hips tightly. He kept thrusting fast then slow, trying to find a good rhythm- which you weren't even focused on. You were focused on his chest, going up and down as his pretty and soft looking nipples were encouraging you to touch them- to make them swollen.

Kaveh let out a loud gasp as he picked up his pace, your mouth working wonders on his left nipple and fondling with the other, occasionally letting out whimpers and moans yourself. This is heaven, you thought, arching your back and making him hit your prostate several times as you release his nipple- he hugs you tightly, burying his face into your neck letting out high pitched whines as his hips started to lose their pace, signalling that his orgasm is near.

You grip his blonde locks as tears start forming in your eyes, whining his name repeatedly as both of you came undone at the same time, your breaths rigid as he was still buried inside of you and holding you tight, not letting you go.

He props himself up on his elbows, looking at you with pure adoration;

"You're so incredibly divine," he exclaims, and starts thrusting into you again as you take a sharp breath from the overstimulation, gripping his forearms in protest. "I-I wanna ride you please- I wanna draw you from underneath me," you breathed out, making Kaveh slightly flustered as he pulled out of you, allowing you to go on top.

The whole night consisted of both of you trying out different positions, while you got the best anatomy practice drawings you'll ever need- maybe they can be used for the time your boyfriend is on a long trip away from you~

#kaveh x male reader #genshin kaveh #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh genshin impact #genshin impact #kaveh smut

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mochiwrites · 1 month

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Mochi I’m brainrotting over your secret husbands AU, are there anymore crumbs you can provide for a poor Scarian lover?

I CAN ABSOLUTELY PROVIDE MORE CRUMBS YES <- just got to class and is bored

we haven't touched on season 8 too much, have we? I think there's a lot of funny moments to be had from this season. because boatem. mumbo, impulse, and pearl. they definitely have bets in the betting pool, and you know they're going to be trying whatever they can

from pearl locking grian and scar in the g-train. to mumbo asking both grian and scar to join him on a picnic only to back out last second. to impulse making one of those cheesy "boat of love" trips in the chocolate river in his factory for them

these guys are pulling out whatever stops they can to get grian and scar together. and I think it's boatem that finally makes our married couple realize what their friends are trying to do. they don't get away with it for very long

cue scar meeting with impulse and just. starting to wax poetry about how wonderful grian is, and how much he loves him (impulse is sick of it /affectionate). cue grian moping around mumbo's base because he misses scar (he'll see him in a few hours) and he can't just tell scar he misses him (this one is true, because scar would tease him for days if he knew)

bonus points for scar bothering cub about his "grian situation" and grian bugging pearl about his "scar situation" (both are So done with their respective siblings)

impulse calls an emergency meeting. boatem is empty. grian and scar get an entertaining date night

the hat scar made for grian? has an engraving on the inside that says forever and always, light of my life. grian makes scar backup gear that's extremely mushy and scar solemnly swears to never lose it (he has it stored away in his ender chest)

the pranks!!!! pranks a plenty!!!! scar gives grian a run around over where he's building his mountain (they both know scar is going to choose his spot). scar getting stuck in bedrock is absolutely Layered with flirting upon flirting. they die in the void together, holding each other because grian tried to catch him

grian officially renames the magical menagerie to magical bebegarie for forever (once again, scar claims the charged creeper is their child now. grian is exasperated)

they pick up a habit of star gazing together in midnight alley, and have definitely fallen asleep together before. scar's started to keep a blanket up there when that happens

speaking of blankets... he's missing a few. and some of his shirts are missing. and huh, would you look at that, scar's found them in grian's nest. How Odd

though grian loves sleeping in the swaggon, it's unfair how comfortable scar's beds always are! and boy do the other members of boatem go crazy when they see grian leaving scar's base in the morning. and upon being questioned, grian and scar always say that they stayed up doing blueprints of builds together. which isn't technically a lie, sometimes. but most of the time it's a lot more... hands on ;3

and oh my god the ravager prank from big eye crew... I'm not saying grian and scar try to keep each other in their sights the entire time, but I'm definitely saying grian and scar keep each other in their sights. and after the ravagers are taken care of, they're hiding away in grian's base and cuddling for the next few hours, Do Not Disturb

also this extends far past season 8 but scar often wakes up with jellie curled on grian instead of him. he declares grian is feeding her extra treats so she'll love him more. grian denies this, but scar doesn't believe him

#mochi speaks #secret husbands au

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scarybabe · 3 months

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hi! this is a little rando but quite awhile ago you posted about each new fat cell you created sticking around forever and it’s been stuck in my head because we actually don’t make new fat cells as adults! the amount you create when your body is developing is the amount you have throughout your life :) ride or dies! so, you’re actually growing each fat cell that’s been in the blueprint of you since day one. pretty cute!! I believe that the fat cells in people with high body fat percentage replace themselves quicker when they reach the end of their lifespan than they do in people with less fat on their body. that’s partially why weight loss is harder the higher your starting point is. also, this may contribute to your ongoing struggles with easily gaining weight. if you weren’t overweight during early childhood development you simply have less fat cells to stretch. you might just not be predisposed to have a fat body…even though it looks so so good on you.

I know you didn’t ask for a biology lesson but hey, it’s your fat, you should know what’s up w it!

adore you <3 this is literally only anon because I’m shy ab my obsession w bellies. wishing you all the best always!

Huh, we actually do make new fat cells as adults though 🥲 Check out this research paper that confirms what I remembered from college (bachelors in bio). Human biology used to be one of my special interests 🥰

Also I totally had the same thought that because I was pretty slender up until college, gaining weight is way harder because I’m constantly working against a low natural set point of fat cells. I had always eaten pretty much whatever and maintained a low to mid of “normal” BMI (air quotes because bmi is BS)

In case you want to read! Here’s another article updated in 2022 - even more recent. You are partially right in the average person will have a somewhat constant number of fat cells our entire life, but actually the fat cell population is constantly dying and being regrown. The fat cell count is not constant because we have the same exact physical cells we grow and develop in adolescence - there is various rates of cell turnover (replacement).

This is also an interesting article about how how weight gain can affect fat cells! Research seems a little contradictory but logically from what I know about cell biology/the anatomy of the cell, it make more sense for the fat cell count to be elevated above normal if someone gains a significant amount (ex. double or triple starting weight)

#fat science

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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months

Text

fic rec friday 38

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

only the dead have seen the end of war by @kartoffxl [MCD]

Lance must have seen something in Keith’s face, because his expression crumpled in anguish. “You… You love me back.” He put his head in his hands. “Oh my god. You loved me. You love me. This—This is so fucked up.” “Lance, I—” “Tell me I’m wrong.” There were tears in his eyes. “Tell me we didn’t just waste all those years being cowards.” Keith clenched his fists at his sides, still reeling from the whiplash of what he had just heard earlier. This can’t be happening. “Say it!” Lance pressed. “Say you don’t love me.” Please, his eyes begged. Keith and Lance finally figure out that they’re absolutely, undeniably, embarrassingly in love with each other, just not exactly in the best of circumstances.

okay so. this is. technically. one of the meaner fics im reccing. HOWEVER. it is gaspingly unbelievably beautifully and painfully written. even the summary kills me -- say you dont love me. im begging you. im begging you to lie to me right now. as we lay dying im begging you to have mercy on me and let me believe i didnt have a chance for beauty with you. im begging you to let me die with one regret instead of millions. please. please dont let me die being loved by you. LIKE WHAT

2. Toast to Freedom by @icypantherwrites

Keith is used to more than his fair share of dark looks. What he’s not used to is seeing those looks directed at Lance for no reason that he can determine and it’s making something uneasy settle in his stomach and the heavy press of the mantle of leader weigh even heavier as he should be doing something about it but he doesn’t know what. But causing a scene will upset the alliance they need and so Keith chooses to wait it out, to address it after the feast. He should never have waited.

will never ever in my life get over to 'i drank your poison because no suffering would be worse than watching it on you' not ever. it is always so so everything. and NO ONE does it like icy panther

3. Disjointed Soul by @icypantherwrites

Lance falls victim to a Soul Leecher, a dark spirit that is drawn to disjointed souls to steal them for itself. The Paladins must go into Lance's very soul to save him, uncovering truths about themselves and Lance in the process. Time is of the essence before Lance is lost forever. Good thing they have such helpful, adorable soul guides.

"Hi there baby Lance," Hunk greeted. "Ohwah," Lance burbled back. "¡Ohwah!" "Ohwah?" Pidge repeated. "I think he's saying "hola,'" Hunk grinned. "You know, "hello" in Spanish. Hola, baby Lance." "¡Ohwah! ¡Ohwah!"

this is one of THEEEE original insecure lance fics fr like it was the BLUEPRINT. 2018 there wasnt a langst loving soul who hadnt read this at least twice. its not too long for my dears w shoddy attention spans but its long enough to have quite a bit of substance!! team as family with communication and lance at the centre of it. what more do u want

4. Sleep Well, My Son by @icypantherwrites

A tiny accident becomes literal when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection from his older self. Coran has hopes the effects will be relatively short-term, but in the meantime he has a scared child that needs both reassurance and care. And while Coran might not have had the chance to be a father… he feels like one now.

look i love a good de aged lance fic and obviously when i was making these bookmarks i was scrolling my way thru the tag. and this one is especially amazing bc it is coran centred! this is a coran fic! this is a fic about quiet grief in the life you never got to live and acceptance for the life you have now and love for the people life has brought you!! it is about coran finding family through people who so desperately need it!! it is everything!!

5. Amigos by @icypantherwrites

A dangerous mission becomes even moreso when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection of his older self in the middle of it. Keith has never been good with kids and that certainly isn’t going to change now. Somehow though he’s got to convince Lance — who doesn’t speak a word of English and is staring at Keith with too wide, too scared of eyes — to come with him, get them both out of the Galran base now crawling with sentries alive, and then, assuming they get that far, figure out how to change Lance back.

shut up about the repeated author shut up about the same trope shut up about the. okay. i am a simple creature. i am annoying. i like to sit on my little armchair and open my little phone and read the same thing a million times. there is a Way to read fic and that way is to click on and scroll through a tag until you find a fic you like then scroll through that author and then go back to the tag and rinse and repeat. besides this fic is amazing okay i love klance but we rarely get platonic klance and its GOOD okay

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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