#these were stupidly fun to answer thank you so much <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

klmp11s · 1 month

Note

There’s never enough male reader content so thank you 🙏

Could I request first years realizing they have a crush on a guy for the first time (you) and how they go about that 💙

I LOVE U I had so much fun writing this 🙏🙏(English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes)

Characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt; (Mention of Rook, Vil, Lilia, Malleus) Warning: male!reader

Summary: first years realizing they have a crush on a guy for the first time (you) and how they go about that.

Ace Trappola

HE'S LITERALLY TOP 1 IN DENIAL OF FEELINGS

Like, he doesn't have time for romance, you know? He is busy studying and in general he is a free guy. NO YOU DIDN'T SEE HE STARING AT YOU THE WHOLE LESSON, THAT'S A LIE

He won’t understand until the very end that his feelings for you are not platonic at all.

Is he holding you by the shoulders? Well, yes, we are friends. Is he constantly in your personal space? Pfft, what's wrong with that?

Does he have a disgusted look on his face when unfamiliar students approach you? He doesn’t know them, what if they’re bad?

This man will literally always be with you, no matter when or where.

Are you going to lunch? Is he with you. Do you need to go to the library to do homework? He will complain, but at the same time he never left behind you while you were walking.

You're the first person he always invites to his basketball game.

Like, you know, he can play and the moment he hears how you support his team and himself, his desire to win increases three times.

He finally understands his feelings after other people pointed out your closeness with him several times. His reaction is “of course we are close, we are best friends” and at the moment he literally “..we are close 🫢😶😳”

Now the troublemaker begins to notice that everything connected with you is important to him

The gears in his field are like this 🔁 and he understands that the desire to be close, hug, kiss, hold, make you smile are not platonic feelings at all.

I also think that for some time he will not understand how much he liked the guy, but as soon as he remembers your image, all questions from his head will disappear and he will curse your too beautiful face, magnificent eyes, your- AHEM

At first he doesn’t know what to do with it at all. Because 1. You are his best friend 2. He is your best friend 3. What if you don't like boys??? The boy is literally broken

Despite this, he becomes completely shameless. Teases, flirts and speaks with the simplest possible hints. Forgive him, the boy is trying to get you to react and understand whether you like him

Most likely, HE will be waiting for recognition. (He's too afraid that you don't like him and it will ruin your friendship)

He is the type that will look at you with puppy dog eyes and when you remark, he will immediately begin to turn the arrow on you. “I am NOT staring. And you? You miss my face so much that you’re staring at me, huh? Don't say a word about his red face, the boy is literally dying inside for being burned so stupidly

Be patient, because if you confess to him, his ego will grow to incredible proportions and he will be the most smug guy ever (you literally can just kiss him on the cheek and he'll die)

Deuce Spade

HE IS SO CUTE, he also didn’t notice for a long time that he feels different with you

Like: “yes, I want to spend more time with him, I look at him often, and suggest we study together. Is there something wrong?"

He's the kind of guy who will randomly look at you and literally be like: Deuce.exe doesn't answer. You 100% caught this look on yourself. You could even stare back for a while until Deuce realized it and turned his head away at the speed of light.

He thanks the seven because you never talk about it

He would rather die than answer the questions “why are you staring?” YOU DEFINITELY SAID ONCE SOMETHING LIKE “do you like what you see?” the boy couldn't speak or look at you for a couple of weeks.

He also 100% told his mom about you when he called her and she could also tease him, because he didn’t even notice what exactly he was talking about you and then he just sat there with a red face looking at the floor

I think he realized his feelings at the moment when you were in your dorm and in silence doing your own thing. Have you heard that people become 100% more handsome when they go about their business with complete confidence and skill? Exactly this moment.

The boy literally didn’t take his eyes off you and didn’t say a word while he looked at you. Do you have to be so charming?

Please don't ask why he's red, he 's ready to get up and run away right now.

From that moment on, he understands that his heart beating too quickly and the desire to be closer are not platonic.

HE CALLS MOM IMMEDIATELY (if the time is not later) he absolutely does not know what to do in this situation. Fortunately, his mother calms him down and says that he should confess to you. I think this conversation took a couple of hours, but after that he confidently decided that he would look after you so that you would like him.

Absolutely the behavior of a handsome prince, holds the door for you, compliments you (even if he is absolutely red), tries to invite you more often to spend time together, etc.

He might even invite you to his home for the holidays to introduce you to his mother 💔

He is the type who would rather admit his feelings rather than wait for recognition. He wants the moment to be perfect and you like it and remember it

He tried so hard that he most likely asked third-year students for advice

They jokingly now call him lover boy.

But after confessing, he becomes the happiest guy. He can finally hold your hand, hug you in front of strangers AND KISS YOU OKAY HE'S IN HEAVEN

The most in love and happy because now he has the best guy in the world.

He definitely invited you to his home, only as HIS BOYFRIEND

Jack Howl

Love is not for him. He's a lone wolf. Stop looking at his tail, which only affects you if you're nearby.

Okay, okay, listen, he constantly stands next to you, sits together, his ears twitch only if you speak. He literally has a radar on you.

Listens to everything you say, goes with you everywhere if you ask.

He doesn't say a word to you if you take his arm

This is the usual behavior of close friends, what's wrong with it?

He definitely realized his feelings almost immediately. But most likely this was influenced by the moment when you asked to touch his ears and he agreed without thinking.

His brain is literally like "yes"...Wait WHAT

Okay now you have a gloomy tsundere wolf

You are literally the most handsome, interesting man he has seen in his life, you know?

He didn't talk about it anymore and he prayed that you wouldn't start this conversation.

He definitely told his cacti about you, with that stupid loving smile, but as soon as he noticed it he immediately became like: 😳😤

He definitely suggested playing sports together a couple of times (the boy just wants to spend time together doing what he loves 🙏 . Yes, you can consider it a date because he won't say it)

Now in the company he is not at all against anything from your side. Hug him? Hmm. hold his hand? Hmm. Put your hand on his thigh? He died

I'm sure that at such moments his tail hit your legs or back a couple of times

Courtship? DEFINED

If you put your head on his shoulder while talking to other people, he will become a statue, as long as you don't remove it.

Courtship among wolves is more tactile, so he tries to be as close to you physically as possible.

He confesses first. Most likely, he will organize a date where it is just the two of you, and he will be able to calmly talk about his feelings.

He is so glad that now he can kiss you, hug you, hold your hand, bite you AND RUSH HIS HEAD ON YOU.

You and he definitely became the parents of his cacti

Epel felmier

Absolutely not. He doesn't like a man, IT'S NOT MASCULINE

The boy just doesn't know what to do

You literally evoke the strongest emotions in him and he always feels dizzy and has butterflies in his stomach when you are around.

Like, have you seen yourself?? You are so cool, smart, interesting, handsome-

WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM

Boy in Denial #2

He loves you, yes, you are his FRIEND, it’s normal to love friends, isn’t it?? He can't come to terms

He tries to pretend that his cheeks are not burning while you are sitting close together or leaning on him.

Okay, HE'S LITERALLY READY TO FORGIVE YOU FOR YOUR JOKES ABOUT HIS GREATEST, YOU KNOW

He realized and accepted his feelings at the sleepover at your dorm. The vibe of calm conversations, your calm voice, relaxed look and that stupidly beautiful smile destroyed his denial.

Congratulations, you now have a protector and a prince trying to impress you.

He will literally protect your pride, even in minor situations. Did they answer you rudely/hit you with a shoulder? He's ready to punch someone in the face

The moments when you two just communicate become the most pleasant for him. Do you and the person you like spend time together, alone? He will move mountains for this

He will definitely confess first, because that’s what real men do!

(Still trying to impress you)

He definitely had help from Rook and Vil with his confession. Like, no, EPEL, you are not going to confess your love to the man of your dreams in THIS

This is most likely why he was late, but I swear he RUNNED TO YOU AS FAST AS HE COULD

He literally blurts out a confession and stands completely red for a couple of seconds while you smile. (you won’t say that you already knew, right?)

Good good now you have a wonderful strong, brave and caring guy who will do anything for you that you ask.

Your dates are in Harveston because he doesn't want to kiss his man somewhere where Rook or Vil can see him

(He will still kiss you wherever he can)

Sebek Zigvolt

Lmao are you Malleus?

I'm surprised that you're so gorgeous that you can not only make friends but also make Sebek fall in love with you

Boy in Denial #3

I'm pretty sure he realized his feelings when he started thinking about chas more often than Malleus.

Like, yes, you are a good friend, smart, strong, he respects you, but something more? “best friends?” HE THOUGHT IT WAS JUST PLATONIC LOVE

At one point, Lilia began to tease him about your friendship with him.

MALLEUS GIGGED AT THIS A COUPLE OF TIMES

Sebek died at this moment

Like, he’s a strong knight, a protector, sits completely red while they hint at his feelings for you

HE WAS 100% ASKED TO CONFESS TO YOU WHEN HE WAS JUST RECOGNIZING HIS FEELINGS

Okay, okay, maybe he likes you, but he has better things to do!! He is a knight and must protect Malleus! (He goes for a walk with you on the grounds of your dorm because you are bored)

Do you think that because he is in love with you, you are automatically protected from his screams? LMAO JUST THE OPPOSITE

He really tries not to scream in front of you, but he does a VERY bad job. Forgive him, you cause too many emotions for him to think adequately and behave calmly

IF YOU DECIDE TO FLIRT OR TEASE he will literally explode like your eardrums. This boy is in a panic and doesn’t know what to do or say, please let him go and let him and let him scream into the pillow, he won’t withstand such pressure

He will come to Lilia for advice. From this moment on, he will begin to care for you. You can literally lie on him and all he will do is tell you not to do that 🙄 (He is ready not to move if you feel comfortable)

If you hugged him from the front, he might rub his head against you a couple of times, but if you even said a word about it, the only thing you would hear was screams

Just let the boy rest and spend time with you, he tries to do it carefully and respectfully

His date organized the entire dorm. LITERALLY everyone was sure that he would return back with his boyfriend. Also, everything happened somewhere in a quiet place because he could not stand it if at such an important moment someone disturbed him.

HE GLOWS if you reciprocate his feelings. He is happy that now he can show love to you and not hide it.

100% took you after to Diasomnia.

Lilia didn't stop teasing YOU BOTH, now he has another son~

The characters do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners, please do not edit, translate, repost my works on other platforms, also without my permission and @

#ace trappola x reader #ace trappola x male reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade x male reader #jack howl x reader #jack howl x male reader #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier x male reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt x male reader #twst x reader #twst x male reader

250 notes · View notes

waratah-moon · 1 year

Text

I Think We're Alone Now

Mom and Dad finally get some alone time. Smutty addition to Gremlin - takes place during moment 3. Thank you to @lfaewrites for beta reading!

Gremlin / read on ao3 / masterlist

Pairing: Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v - let's imagine everyone's been tested and reader is on the pill), established relationship, insecure reader, teen pregnancy (not elaborated on), boyfriend shaped Eddie fluff Steal my work and I will hex you

As soon as you'd gotten to the Mayfield's trailer, Indie had bounded inside straight to the dollhouse Max had set up especially for her in the corner.

You handed Max your daughter's backpack, telling her you had packed her lunchbox and tucked a Care Bears VHS inside the front pocket. “She’s had a bit of a runny nose this morning and she refused to eat breakfast so-“

“Seriously, we’ll be fine." Max knew your deal, you had gone through the same spiel every time you dropped Indie off for the past year. She responded with her regular answer, "you’re like 100 feet away.”

“Don’t hesitate to drop her back, okay?”

“Actually please do hesitate," Eddie was leaning against the doorframe, bouncing his leg. "It’s been ages.”

Of course that's what he was most concerned about. You raised your eyebrows in warning. “Eddie.”

He copied you. “Babe.”

Max grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Pick her up whenever. You two have fun," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and shut the fly screen.

"Will do, see you later. Bye Gremlin, love you," Eddie called out, dragging you back to your own trailer across the way.

It always took a while for the worry to ebb away whenever you left your daughter with someone who wasn’t Eddie. Even though Max had been regularly looking after her for the better part of a year and you trusted her completely, part of you was still worried something would happen.

Eddie was the complete opposite, allowing common sense to reign. He knew that Mayfield and your daughter were only in the trailer opposite, literally 100 feet away. And he trusted that Mayfield would bring her straight back if something happened that she couldn’t handle. But he also knew that Mayfield could handle a lot.

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Baby they’ll be fine, they always are. How about I make popcorn and we can watch that dumb mermaid movie you love."

"You said you liked Splash ," you mumbled against his chest. You could hear the steady lub-dub of his heart and you were enjoying the way he was stroking your hair.

"I like Daryl Hannah's ass." He quickly added, "not as much as I like yours, though. You know I love your ass. Hey, maybe we could get you a mermaid tail.”

You rolled your eyes, but managed a smile.

Eddie made it halfway through the movie before he put the moves on you. It started with the classic yawn and arm around the shoulder, which quickly turned into groping your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt; his breath hitching when he felt that you weren’t wearing a bra.

"Seriously?"

"I almost made it a whole hour, are you proud of me?"

"Very."

"Great, can we have sex now please?"

He phrased it so stupidly, like a horny teenager begging to get laid, but it still managed to give you butterflies.

You'd been with Eddie for three years, and the insecure girl part of your brain was worried that at any moment the romance would fizzle and die out. It shocked you that even though he'd seen you at your most vulnerable: sick, depressed, pregnant, deep in the throes of childbirth, he still tried to jump your bones every chance he got. You weren't sure how many times he'd have to tell you that all those little moments combined made him love you even more than was humanly possible for you to believe it.

But horny Eddie made it a little easier to believe. Horny Eddie made you feel wanted and desired, which satiated the insecure girl part of your brain for an hour, or two, or a whole night. It depended on the babysitting situation.

It didn’t take more than you climbing onto his lap for him to attach his mouth to yours, groaning deeply when you parted your lips.

Proper kisses between you two, the kind that weren’t just a peck on the lips or cheek, had become rare since you’d had Indie. Usually they were stolen in the kitchen; you pressed up against the counter while Eddie distracted you from dinner, lasting the amount of time your daughter was preoccupied with the TV. Or they were lazy morning kisses where you kept missing each other's lips because your eyes were full of sleep; the ones that usually ended in muffled giggles as you tried not to wake Indie as she slept in the cot at the end of your bed. But kisses that turned into making out were especially rare and took extra planning. The kisses that had you moaning as you reminded yourselves of the architecture of the other's mouth. The kisses that moved from your lips to your jaw to your neck, inevitably finding their way between your legs.

“Babe, bedroom,” you were already panting, breathless as he trailed his tongue along your jaw. He hummed against your skin, the vibration buzzing deep in your bones, making your toes curl.

He didn’t need to be told twice, taking your hand and leading you the short distance to the bedroom before he pushed you unceremoniously onto the bed. He pulled off his shirt, and you did the same, also shedding your jeans, as he slotted himself between your legs.

“Pants off,” your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt, tugging the denim down his legs. Normally he’d make a remark about how eager you were, but the truth was he didn’t have it in him; it had been awhile since the two of you had been alone together. His head was clouded with dirty thoughts of you; you naked, you moaning, you screaming his name, you swallowing him whole.

His fingers trailed down your body, stopping to circle your pebbled nipples, fluttering over the expanse of your stomach before they found their way between your legs; tracing your cotton covered slit.

“Eddie,” you breathed, pushing your hips up, his touch far too delicate for your liking.

He pushed the material aside, dipping two fingers between your folds and smirked when he found you wet. “What do you want, sweetheart?” You knew exactly what he meant; fingers or mouth.

“Your mouth. Please,” you couldn’t help whining as he dragged your panties down your thighs, exposing your soaking cunt to the cool air.

He dove between your legs like a man starved. It had been much too long, in Eddie’s humble opinion, since he’d gotten to taste you. Far too long since he’d gotten to hear the little whimpers of pleasure and feel your hips buck as he nibbled, sucked, and licked you to your peak.

Just as the familiar pressure started building in the pit of your stomach, a loud series of knocks came from the front door.

"No," Eddie groaned, the vibrations sent a delicious prickle through your body. "Can we just ignore it and wait for them to go away?"

It was really hard to concentrate when his nose was purposely rubbing against your clit. You exhaled, trying to distract yourself from the subtle heat in your belly. "It might be Max."

"It might not be," he'd moved to kissing the crease in your thigh, his teeth and lips gently nipping the skin.

"You know Indie had a runny nose this morning."

"Pretty sure that's normal. They don't call them snot-nosed kids for no reason."

"Eddie,” you pushed his shoulder with your foot.

He huffed, reluctantly removing his head from between your thighs. "Fine. But someone better be dying."

"EDDIE!"

"You know what I mean," he pulled on a pair of sweat pants and grabbed his tee-shirt before heading to the front door.

You flopped your head back on the pillow, and counted the green glow in the dark stars Eddie had stuck on the ceiling in the shape of Andromeda. 5 big stars, 11 little ones. Eddie had chosen that constellation, saying he’d found it in a book on astronomy in the library one day and decided the stars needed a shape. He said that Andromeda was the most beautiful woman in all of ancient Greece and the constellation was fitting as you were even more beautiful than her; a fact which Eddie was very obviously unbiased about.

You heard the front door open and Eddie’s pissed voice. Okay, so it wasn’t Max at the door. You couldn’t hear any words, your ears only picking up on muffled voices. From his tone you guessed Eddie was attempting to end the conversation, when you suddenly hear a name you hated in high school: Shelley Keibler. That bitch that ruined your chance of becoming Homecoming Queen in senior year when she rigged the vote in her favour. Your mood suddenly soured.

The door slammed shut and footsteps made their way towards the bedroom. You sat up as Eddie walked in, pulling off his tee-shirt as he made his way over to the bed. “Who was at the door?”

“Dustin,” he collapsed against you, his hands finding purchase on your hips.

“The freshman who joined Hellfire? Why was he talking about Shelley Keibler?”

He groaned, his cheek flat against your bare stomach. There were other things he wanted to be doing that did not involve discussing a girl he knew you hated from high school. “He said she was flirting with me last week.”

You raised your eyebrow, “was she?”

“Yep,” he kissed the skin next to your navel, his fingers edging between your thighs. You clamped your legs shut and he frowned. “What?”

“Why was Shelley Keibler flirting with you?”

Eddie looked up at you through dark lashes, grinning knowingly. “Are you jealous?”

You scoffed, “of that bitch? ‘Course not.” He could always tell when you were lying, not that you were doing a good job of hiding it.

“Aw, baby,” he pouted, moving his way up your body. “She thought $20 for half an ounce was too steep. Tried to flatter her way into a discount.”

“Did she get one?”

“No. I made an extra $10 and bought you flowers,” he reached your face, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Oh,” you looked over at your dresser where a vase of gerberas sat. They were beginning to wilt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. He’d come home one day last week with them hidden behind his back, presenting the bunch to you for no reason whatsoever. He’d said he’d gotten them “because you deserve something almost as pretty as you."

He cupped your cheek, turning your face so you were looking in his eyes. “You know I love you, right? More than anything,” he tugged on your bottom lip with his thumb to stop you from biting it. “I love our life together. I love our little family. You’re it for me, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Eds,” you started, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. As you moved to place a kiss on the closest part of his skin you could reach, his wrist, his hands moved to grip your thighs.

“Now can we please fuck? I’ve been thinking about railing you all week.”

You shut your eyes, the tears instantly drying. “Really? You were being so sweet and then you had to go and ruin it.”

“I’ll ruin you,” he countered, a toothy grin contradicting the dirty undertones of his words.

“I’d like to see you try.” You knew he could do it easily. He’d done it so many times before; left you a blathering cock drunk mess as he coaxed yet another orgasm from your shaking body. But Eddie loved a challenge and you knew how to tease him to get what you wanted.

“Are you doubting my abilities?” His palms splayed against your thighs, spreading them open so he could admire your glistening cunt. “Still wet?”

He used two fingers to part your folds, watching as a mixture of your arousal and his saliva dripped onto the sheets below. “I really didn’t mean to edge you before. Fucking Henderson ruins everything.” He pursed his lips as he decided his next move, his thumb putting the slightest amount of pressure on your clit. “I reckon you’ve earned an orgasm, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” you moved your hips, hoping to create some friction against his hand.

He obliged, sinking two fingers deep inside. You gasped when he curled them upwards, hitting just the right spot that ignited a fire in your belly.

Eddie knew exactly how your body worked, he’d tested every set of moves on you over the years and gotten the right combination that had you twisting and squirming beneath his hands. He attached his lips to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue, causing delicious white hot pain to sear down your legs, leaving pins and needles in your feet.

Your eyes were screwed shut, your chest heaving as you tried to hold off the mounting pressure, you knew the longer you held out, the more intense the pleasure would be. You gripped his hair, needing something to ground you to this moment as your back arched off the bed. You couldn’t take much more, his constant assault leaving your brain foggy and empty, the urge to let go too desperate.

“Fuck, Eddie, yes,” you cried out through shuddering gasps.

The release hit you with an intensity you hadn’t felt in a while, your mind instantly blanking to a white slate as Eddie helped you ride out your high.

“Baby?” His voice sounded muffled, like he was standing at the end of a long, echoing tunnel. “Sweetheart?”

You opened your eyes, the room blurry like you were looking down the lens of an unfocused camera. You rubbed your eyes, feeling tears lining your lashes.

“There she is,” he pushed back your hair, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. Your vision came back to focus and you saw Eddie looking at you in adoration.

“That was intense,” your voice was croaky. It had been a while since you’d had an orgasm that was drawn out and powerful. Usually they were rushed and you never got to fully experience them.

“Are you okay? Do you want some water?”

“I’m good,” you took a second to breath before you reached out to grab his hips. “Very good.” Your hand reached inside his boxers to find he was rock hard. “Did I turn you on?”

“You were doing that sexy gasp you do and moaning my name. Of course that’s going to turn me on.” You allowed your fingertips to trace the prominent vein along the underside of his cock.

“And let me guess, now you want to rail me.”

“Please,” he dragged the word out, peppering your neck with kisses. “Been thinking about it for so long.”

You let out a breathy laugh, pulling his boxers down his thighs. When they slid to his ankles, he kicked them off. “Do you want me to ride you?”

“I’ll cum in a second if you’re on top and that would be tragic for my ego.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he dragged the tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the sweet schlicking sound made by your wetness. Your breath hitched as the head brushed over your sensitive clit, the gasp turning into a moan as he pushed slowly into your cunt.

“Jesus, baby,” he pushed in further and you tried to relax your muscles, feeling your walls fluttering around him. When he finally entered fully in, he stopped for a moment, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead. “God, we’re made for each other.”

It felt heavenly to be so full and stretched out around his cock, and his words were so sweet, eyes hazy with love and admiration for you. But right now you need him to fulfil his promise and fuck you. “Fucking hell, move!”

“Right, sorry sweetheart, you’re just so beautiful and I love seeing you under me-”

You arched your back, grinding your hips against him, “I swear to God.”

He rocked his hips back before slamming forward, your skin slapping together where your bodies met. You gripped onto his back, his skin blanching as your fingertips dug into the corded muscles.

The pace he’d chosen to set, quick and bruising, would wear anyone out, but he managed to maintain it for a good few minutes before he began panting in your ear.

“Baby I don’t think I’m going to last much longer with you squeezing around me.”

“I can’t help it, you feel so good,” he was hitting just the right spot deep within you. Your hand moved to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle as you felt the tingling pressure building.

Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin to stop his shuddering breaths. You could feel his thighs begin to tremble, the telltale sign he was close.

Your fingers quickened around your clit, your other hand moving to squeeze his balls as his thrusts moved out of rhythm.

“Oh fuck, babe, shit, yes,” he jerked inside you and you could tell he wouldn’t last much longer. With the way he was gasping in your ear, you wouldn’t either.

“Eddie, baby, just a little longer, I’m almost there,” you breathed, the pressure in your stomach reaching a fever pitch.

It was his moan, you think, that sent you over the edge. The throaty sob that racked through his entire body. The way his hair was stuck to his forehead, the veins in his neck prominent when he threw his head back as he came. It was angelic in the dirtiest way possible.

He collapsed against you and you rubbed his back as he came down from his high. His skin was hot and clammy, your fingertips drawing abstract shapes along his spine.

After a few minutes, Eddie grabbed his tee-shirt from the end of the bed, placing it underneath you before he pulled out.

“Ugh, that’s gross,” you groaned, watching as his cum dripped out of you, pooling on the ratty tee-shirt.

“What, it’s going in the wash anyway,” he stood up and stretched, pulling the tee-shirt out and folding it over itself, using the sleeve to wipe himself. He disappeared from the bedroom and you heard the washing machine lid open.

He did it every time. Even though you’d put a hand towel on the dresser specifically for that purpose, he always went for whatever band tee-shirt he was wearing prior to stripping off. He came back with a damp washcloth and a glass of water, which he placed on your nightstand. You mumbled a “ thanks,” and took a sip, the cold water instantly revitalising you from your post-sex sleepy haze.

“Push up,” he instructed as he wiped the washcloth between your legs and the inside of your thighs. He was gentle, careful not to put too much pressure on the sensitive area as he cleaned. “There. Perfect as always,” he placed a kiss above your pubic bone.

The two of you stripped the bed and changed the sheets, loading up the washing machine to full capacity. Then you took a shower together, washing each other as you alternated who stood under the water stream of the shower/tub combo. Eddie bent down, letting you wash his hair with your expensive vanilla coconut shampoo, the scent of which he loved. You then picked out the comfiest clothes in your wardrobe and hoped back in bed.

It was moments like this that you cherished. When the two of you were quiet, both basking in the comfortable afterglow, and enjoying each other’s company. Alone together. Eddie was sitting between your legs as you leant against the headboard, his hands running over the clean floral sheets. He was resting against you, his shoulder blades flush against your chest, his eyes shut as you played with his hair.

You hadn’t even realised your fingers were absentmindedly passing damp strands over one another until he asked, “are you braiding my hair?”

You looked down, a french braid beginning to form on his head. “Huh, apparently I am.”

The first time you had braided his hair was soon after you’d started dating. He’d gotten too drunk after a gig and you hadn’t wanted to spend your night holding his hair back over the toilet, so you’d braided it to keep it out of his face. When he woke up the next morning he told you he loved it and spent the whole morning running his fingers over the bumps. Braids quickly became one of Eddie’s love languages; whenever he got a little too tipsy, sleepy, sick, or he’d had a bad day, he’d beg you to braid his hair. Since Indie had come into your lives, you hadn’t had much time for soft moments between you two, but Eddie still sat in the bathroom and watched you braid your daughter’s hair every morning before you dropped her off at daycare. “Is it pretty?”

“You’re always pretty, Eds,” you knew he liked that answer by the faint hum of approval he made. Not that you were lying, Eddie was beautiful. You reached for a hair tie off the nightstand, securing the braid in his hair. “There you go, baby boy.” You gave the braid a tug, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Wait,” he tilted his head, catching your lips with his, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. You let out a content sigh, your arms draping over his shoulders as you relaxed into the kiss.

“I can’t wait until we have our own room again.”

“I know, it’s been way too long since you’ve woken me up with a BJ.”

“Oh, so that’s what you’re expecting when we move into the new house, huh? Morning head?”

The pair of you had finally saved up enough money to rent a small two bedroom house, which you were planning on moving into next week. Your current living situation, which involved Indie sleeping in a crib at the end of your bed, was far from ideal. The new house offered you each your own room, something you and Eddie were incredibly excited about. Partly because your daughter talked in her sleep (which you both agreed was adorable, if not somewhat annoying), but mostly because it afforded you the opportunity to have sex whenever you want.

“What can I say, I’m easy to please.”

@geekyfifi @livsters @spacedoutdaydreamer @bailey1212

join my tag list

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #maggie writes #Eddie Munson gremlinverse #dad!eddie muson #dad!eddie

777 notes · View notes

maddipoof · 1 year

Note

There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort 🌷: maybe a study session turned cuddle with tasm peter parker?

I don't know if you were expecting science but I just cannot. So r has a test on Othello and yeah, it's cute, I like it. thank you for requesting <3 I had fun writing it

WC: 910 (yay my first blurb under 1000 words, improvement)

The very second you sat back down at your desk, half convinced you’re focused enough from another session of pacing around your room, the buzzer went off. You’d almost be annoyed but you didn’t have the time with the half second it took you to realize it had to be Peter. Any other day you’d run over to the door, but today the exhaustion was getting to you. Settling for a rushed walk instead, you leaned down to speak into the little microphone. “Come on up, bugboy.”

“Actually,” you nearly screamed at the voice from outside your half open window. You had your hand over your heart and your back leaning on the wall while Peter watched, hanging upside down with that stupidly adorable smile. “Spiders are arachnids, not bugs.” He lowered himself to the floor and pulled the web down from your fire escape and you practically ran to open the window the rest of the way. You didn’t give him the chance to duck under the window on his own with the way you pulled him down with a hand to the back of his neck. He had to hold himself up with one hand on the sill and the other on the wrist of your hand in his hair. The kiss itself was much gentler than the way you wrapped him into it, but he was alright with that, though with how much he missed you he wouldn’t have minded more. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I know, it’s been too long.”

“Mhm, 12 whole hours, basically eternity.”

“If I remember correctly, it’s been 13.”

“Probably right,” he nudged you back a bit so he could climb in and shut the window without turning from you. “And how many of those did you sleep?”

“Hm,” you clicked your tongue while thinking of the best answer that wouldn’t get you sent to bed immediately, but decided the truth was enough. “Um, 5?” Wrong answer, you could see it on his face. “And a half, 5 and a half.”

“And what were you doing all the other 7.5?”

“I don’t know what it is about this essay but I can’t get it right.” You dropped your face into his shoulder and he tried scratching at the back of your neck in an attempt to comfort you.

“For your lit class? When’s it due?”

“That’s the thing,” you rested your chin on his chest and looked up at him with pleading eyes, not really knowing what you were asking for. “I’m just writing it as a practice for my exam, it’s in two days and if I can’t answer the essay question, what’s the point?”

“She gave you the essay question?”

“Yeah. Well, it’s just to analyze a scene and talk about what it means and blah blah blah whatever,” you talked while he pulled you into your room. “But I can’t focus and it’s like my eyeballs want me to fail.”

You stood behind him while he looked over your desk of loose index cards, open binders and notebooks with margins overrun with scribbles, and of course the half written essay on your laptop.

“You wanna sit down and I’ll quiz you on it? So you don’t have to strain your eyes anymore?” He started picking up the notecards before you even answered, just to organize for you if nothing else. You listened and sat on your bed with your back against the wall.

“Yeah, that’s ok.”

“Good, ok, yeah. These ones?” He held up the colorful neon flash cards.

“Mhm, Othello.”

Peter hasn’t even thought of Shakespeare since Macbeth senior year. Too wrapped up in more scientific studies and uh, spiderman-ing. But he’d do it for you.

Three-quarters of the way through the set he could see your breath evening out and your eyes fluttering.

“Here, lay down,” he guided you forward by the shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I’ll read to you.” He slid in behind you on the bed and pulled the blankets over both of you.

“You don’t have your glasses.”

“I’ll manage,” he reached over to grab the book off the table then relaxed back down to pull you to his chest.

“You’ll strain your eyes.” As if he didn’t arrive by swinging from building to building, that’s the danger you were worried about.

“I’ll manage.”

Your head was on his chest and he read over your shoulder.

“Start here,” you pointed to the section your essay was focused on, half way through a passage.

“She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, in faith, ‘twas strange, 'twas passing strange, 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story. And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I loved her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have used: Here comes the lady; let her witness it.”

He looked down at you to find you sleeping, happy that you finally found a moment’s rest. He kissed your forehead, wherever he could reach. “I love you.” He wasn’t even sure you could hear, but he needed you to know anyway.

“I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

#dell's fics #della celebrates 100 #kait💜#tasm!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x you #tasm fic #tasm spiderman #the amazing spider man #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fanfiction

167 notes · View notes

popquizhot-shot · 1 year

Text

Haven't I- 4

a/n :tHANK you all for the love! i'm so sorry it's been a while! but chapter 5 will also be out this week so have fun<3 tell me how you like this chapter! part-3

Ellie had her gun trained on the group of men, gaze unwavering as she stared them down, “We don’t need your help.”

The man stepped forward and in a flash, Amy was on her feet, her own gun pointed at them as well.

“We thank you for killing those clickers, now please leave us alone.”

The man’s voice was soft. Smooth like honey when he asked, “What’s your name?”

In a moment of complete stupidity, she contemplated giving him her name, but all she did was snarl, “Leave us, or I’l put a bullet in each of your heads.”

In a split second, his eyes seemed to turn animalistic. Predatory. And they softened again. She took note of his hands clenching and how he looked at Ellie.

“Let’s go boys. It’s a long way home.” he turned, defeated.

Without another word, the three men mounted their horses and rode away. The women watched until they disappeared into the horizon

.Amy watched, even after they had gone. The man’s eyes.He was not a friend, certainly not with the way he looked at Elie.

As they kept walking, she promised herself one thing. If they crossed paths with him again, he’d be dead.

—

“Here.” you hand Joel some dried meat as you slowed Laila down, “You haven’t eaten.”

He rides past you, “I’m fine.”

With a grunt, you kick Laila into a slow trot to catch up with him, “Just shut up and take it, Miller.” You chuck it at him and he catched it without missing a beat.

You huff out a laugh when he stuffs the entire thing in his mouth like some kind of mannerless brute, “You’re welcome.”

It’s a bit messed up, but even though this is a rescue mission, it feels like old times when he had taught you how to ride.

After a few beats of silence, he speaks up, “How’d you meet Tommy and Maria?”

You lick your lips, “Maria rescued me. Years before she met Tommy, I was half dead when she found me.”

“And.. Tommy?”

You snort, “We met Tommy when we were scouting the area. Poor guy was shit-scared. I paired them together ever since.”

He scoffs, “So you’re the person to thank for my darling sister in law?”

“She’s a good person, Joel.” You roll your eyes, “Where’d you live before Jackson?”

“Boston QZ. Tommy and I were smugglers before he joined the fireflies.”

“He did tell me that.” you hum, “Ya’ll had a partner as well right?”

He goes quiet then, and you have to internally cringe.Idiot.

“Yeah, we did.” he answers and you nod.

“We’re going to have to ride downhill about half a mile from here. Robby’s jumpy, so be careful.” you inform him and you can sense his relief as his shoulders relax and he nods.

—-----

“I’m hungry.” Ellie whined and Amy reached into her pack and threw a wad of bread at the girl who accepted it and chewed heartily.

The sun set early in winter. Already the sky was dark and the sun was dipping below the horizon. They needed to start a fire and she was bent over a pile of wood and flint in her hand.

With every scrape the urge to go back grew. But then she’d look at Ellie and realise that she couldn’t. The girl meant so much to her. She couldn’t betray her, not after she’d been left alone all her life.

Her brow was sweaty and her hands were smarting. With one final scrape, there was a spark and it took to the wood and dried leaves.

She leaned back against a tree trunk and tried to think of nothing. But her mind just drifted to Joel and to Jackson. It looked like home.

Her quiet was interrupted as Ellie shuffled towards her and laid her head onto her shoulder. Her eyes softened as the girl snuggled into her. She snaked her hand around the girl and patted her cheek, “Sleep, bug.”

—--------

The fire crackles and they’re a little closer to catching up with Amy and Ellie.

Joel chugs whiskey from a flask, you had stupidly forgotten to get one packed for yourself so all you do is stare into the fire and hope you don’t look as pathetic as you feel.

Wordlessly, he hands the flask to you and you turn to look at him, “You don’t have to.”

He just rolls his eyes and forces it into your hands, “Just have some. It’s cold.”

The drink burns as it goes down your throat and you grimace, “Did Tommy give you the shit whiskey he keeps in his cupboard?”

Joel smirks, “”Tommy said it was the handiwork of some guy called Kenny?

“Ugh.” you groan, “Kenny’s alcohol is ass-”

“-But it keeps you warm.” you and Joel finish in unison and chuckle.

“Tommy’s an idiot.” you take another swig and resist the urge to shudder.

“I’ll say.” Joel agrees.

“He’s a hero though.” you look into the fire and he turns to face you.

“That's what he always wanted to be. He joined the army because he wanted to serve the country. Didn’t do shit.” Joel scoffs.

“I’m not talking Desert Storm, Miller. Nor am I talking about the Fireflies. He’s helped the people of Jackson. They look up to him.”

“You must know him an awful lot if he’s told you about Desert Storm.”

“They’re the only family I have, Miller.” you confess. “He’s my brother. Mari’s my sister.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Where do I come in this equation?I’m his brother.”

You grin and look into the blaze once more, “You’re the annoying uncle who visits once a year with gifts and always curses the weather and ‘them darned teenage kids.”

To your surprise, he laughs. “Tommy would definitely agree with you.”

“That’s because I’m right.”

—-----------------

The night had gone by quickly, and by mid afternoon you and Joel had managed to cover a good distance.

“Would you stop humming?” Joel groaned, “At least sing another song. You’ve been destroying ‘Ring of Fire’ for the last half an hour.”

You bark out a laugh, “Can you blame me, Miller? It’s Johnny Cash, he’s the best.”

He rolled his eyes, “Then sing another, and Hank Williams is the best.”

“Fine.” you relent, “And I choose to ignore the second part of your sentence.”

His weak argument was drowned as you began singing the beginning of ‘Jackson’, much to his chagrin.

“No-” “I’m going to Jackson, I’m gonna mess around!~”

“You’re terrible-” “ Yeah I’m going to Jackson, look out Jackson town~”

You hummed the rest of the song and he grumbled, “I should have just gone alone.

“You would have died.”

“That’s better than this,” he argues.

You clutch your chest in mock hurt, “You wound me, Miller.”

He just shakes his head, “Keep ridin.”

“That’s what she said.” you snorted.

“You’re worse than a teenage girl.”

“There’s an open free plane here that is good for galloping.” you say and kick Laila into a canter, “Be careful, it’s on the banks of a frozen lake!” you raise your voice as Laila’s pace increases and Joel is left behind.

—---------

Insufferable. Careless. Stupid. Joel thinks as he catches up with you, the area is covered with snow and there’s a frozen lake on his left.

“There’s a safehouse about a few minutes from here,” you point forward,” With food and firewood. From there we can take a shortcut and meet them in the middle.” saying so you wink at him, mask up and urge Laila to gallop. Leaving Joel in metaphorical dust.

His mouth twists into a small smirk. It’s been years since he’s actually ridden, He adjusts his reins. Heels down. And then he’s galloping.

What he doesn’t account for is the slush on the bank of the lake and the fact that his horse is jumpy. The animal slips and begins panicking. In a moment of fear, his hands flail about. And he calms himself and gathers the reins. He pulls them to stop Robby from moving any further and mutters gentle words to him.

In his peripheral he can see you riding to him, mask up and hood down. He sees your eyes drift to the lake and he does too.

There’s an army green watch lying on its surface.

In horror, he looks at his hands and his watch is not on his wrist. Not where it’s supposed to be. He dismounds Robby and heads for the lake but he can’t breathe.

The watch. Sarah. His watch.

He looks up and you’re running to him. His breaths are short and quick. He feels warm hands on his face and he sees your eyes look into his own. Your voice is muffled but it guides him back into some semblance of sanity.

“Hey, Hey, Joel. You’re okay. You’re alright.” your thumbs caress his cheeks and you nod reassuringly, “I’ll get it.”

All he can do is stare, like some pathetic little child, as you slowly make your way to the watch. Each step is cautious.

```````

The watch, The damn watch. The very one you’d gifted to him and the one Sarah had gotten fixed for his birthday. It had broken when the two of you were fighting. He had thrust his arm out to prove a point and it flew off his wrist and cracked against the bedroom wall.

All his fight left him as he rushed to pick it up with frantic murmurs and cradled it like it was a newborn. He was so miserable, you’d cupped his face in your hands and he’d apologised profusely.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, this was not the time to think of the past. Each step you took was followed by a creek. Just a little further. How the hell did it manage to land this far?.

A few more steps and it was in your hand. You turned back and slid it towards the bank where the ice was thicker. Joel all but fell to his knees and picked it up. Fastening it tight to his wrist immediately.

You were halfway back, your mask had fallen and the air was biting despite it being mid-afternoon. Your steps began to waver.

Then there was a deafening crack and the dark cold.

—-------------------

Bang!

“Wide. Focus on your breathing bug.” Amy instructs Ellie and the girl groans.

“This gun is shit, it doesn’t aim right.”

The older woman rolls her eyes and takes the gun, and ejects the cartridge. Loading the gun again, she assumes her position and aims at the target, “You have to squeeze the trigger like it owes you money and you’re wringing its neck. Breathing should be slow, and steady. Breathe in and breathe out.” She shoots.

Ellie scoffs, “I’m pretty sure you missed.” She looks into the binoculars and gawks, “You bitch.”

Amy can’t help but let out a laugh and she shrugs sheepishly, “Is the gun still shit?”

“Hell yes!”

It’s moments like this where Amy can see Ellie misses Joel. The girl’s eyes are subdued and she hasn’t spoken a word against him like she did almost every day.

She says nothing, only pats her daughter’s shoulder and hands her the gun, “Again, bug.”

She knows there’s a good chance the gunshot will be heard if people are coming after them. And its hard to admit but some part of her wants him to hear. Though it’s unlikely, some childish part longs for him to ride in like some fated hero of old.

Bang!

“Bug, you hit the target!”

Ellie tries to look nonchalant but there was no missing the glee in the little girl’s eyes, “Of course I did.”

All Amy can do is huff out a laugh, “Good job, kid.”

````````````````

Everything is cold. There’s a fire in the fireplace and the sound of boiling water reaches your ears. He found the shelter.

Your teeth chatter uncontrollably. The blanket he’s covered you with does little to help.

“J-Joel!” your voice is weak and comes out as more than a whisper. He doesn’t hear it.

You thrash around and kick a stool over, making as much noise as you can. He seems to have heard that because he strides in with a towel and steaming bowl. He kneels down next to your shivering form.

“The-the watch?” you ask feebly as he dips the towel in the bowl.

He doesn’t answer, working in silence as he dabs your head and then pushes your shirt up so that he can place the towel there. The cold of the shirt, as well as the heat of the towel is contrasting and you cry out at the sudden change.

The both of you know there’s only one way to prevent hypothermia and possible death.

He looks you in the eye and you nod, allowing him to raise his hands above your head. You try not to think about the fact that you haven’t bothered to shave in years. But he doesn’t linger. He removes your shirt and lays it out before the fireplace.

He then moves to unbutton your jeans and its hard work bringing them down, his fingers snag onto your underwear and he pulls them off as well.

Good, respectful Joel pays no mind to your nakedness. He only unclasps your bra and places all your clothes to dry in front of the fire and covers you with the blanket.

He sheds his jacket and takes off his shirt. Your eyes roam the expanse of his chest, littered with scars. You want to scream. You should have been there for him. If you weren’t such a boneheaded idiot that night, none of this would’ve happened.

You look up when he steps out of his jeans and gets under the covers. After a beat, his strong arms wrap around you and pull you into him. Your hands meet at his lower back and your face is hidden in the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry.” you whisper into the crook of his neck and he shushes you.

“Thank you. For doing that for me.” he murmurs. His rough hands travel the length of your arms to generate heat and you relish in the feeling of his warmth. Without realising, you snuggle closer to him.

Your eyes want to slip shut but you force yourself to stay awake in this purgatory. In his arms, just like you used to be. A chill moves through you and you shiver, wriggling into his form a bit more and he holds you tighter.

“Rest, Mitch.” His voice is soft. Like honey. Like everything good in this world.

As your eyes close, you pray he hasn’t seen the tattoo on your back. The very one he had on his own.

taglist :@daddy-din @ephemerensis@charlyrmv@bellaramseysbitch@tripovertiff@im-constantly-fangirling@pussy-f41ry@corvusmorte@mrknifess @corpsebridenightamare@chesirecat000@glshmbl@jbcalway@o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi@glshmbl @starkleila @love-the-abyss

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #haven't i #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you

78 notes · View notes

viburnt · 2 months

Note

Hi, Vi!! (Can I call you that?)

I'm feelin' like I need some mean/bully bf Katsuki who's really pissed at you for canceling your night with him to hang out with your girls.

And when you get home, he's going to show you just how sorry you are.

Thanks so much! Hope you're doing well <3

Hi my love, yes! You can call me Vi (and however you'd like). It took me a while to write this because [life] BUT I hope you enjoy this little piece I made.

CONTENT WARNING: Oral (male receiving), cursing, slight degradation, dubcon(? But not really, Hate-fucking if you squint.

Bakugo Katsuki is, certainly, a person with a good memory.

He remembers dates and anniversaries, how you like your food and drinks, and your favorite color... Yes, your loving boyfriend always keeps track of things, and your mistake tab is included on the list.

"It's almost 2 a.m, where the hell were you?," you hear the blond ask as soon as you enter your shared flat. He looks pissed off, vexation seeping through his shallow breathes and impatient movements, you can tell by the way his leg bounces as he speaks that he's impatient.

"I was with friends, I told you," you explain, head still hazy from spending hours at a pesky club with poor lighting. "It's past your curfew, shouldn't you be asleep?"

Bakugo raises a brow; you had the guts to ditch him for your whore friends not once but twice, and you still acted cocky?

You take your heels off, sighing in relief as your bare feet touch the cool floor. "Why were you waiting, babe? I told you I'd come home late."

"No, you said you'd go out for a while and then come home to me. Have you seen that fucking clock?," he spits. Katsuki leaves his seat, storming across the living room to face you properly.

You now see you've committed a mistake Bakugo will surely not overlook.

"I- It was girl's night!" He hears you huff, "Just having some fun with my girls."

"I don't care about your bitch friends!" Bakugo snaps, pulling you towards the couch. A wave of adrenaline rushes through your body, fear and lust intertwined. "I'm not someone you can fucking ditch-"

He makes you sit on the couch, a hand firmly grabbing your head as the other works his belt, pants soon falling to the ground as he frees his length from it.

"Make it hard," you hear your boyfriend command. The confused stare you give him only makes him chuckle, pressing his soft dick against your face. A warm sensation splashes your cheeks.

"Are you for real?" You ask, feeling shiver run down your spine. "We- We can talk about this."

"No, I'm sure" Bakugo snarls, "Suck it."

Meekly, your lips work their way around his length. Your tongue rolls around tip, a hand pumping the base: the way he's always liked it. It doesn't take long for his cock to stand proud in front of you, hovering milimiters away from your face.

"Did you miss me this bad?" You stupidly dared to tease, hammering another nail to your coffin. Bakugo grunted with newfound levels of annoyance; he was going to have a bit of consideration for you, give you a less sever punishment.

Not anymore.

The bratty smile on your face was knocked out of your lips as he grabbed your chin, ramming his girth inside all the way down your throat. "Shut up," he groans, snapping his hips at an unbending pace. Gagging sounds and heavy pants filled the room, tears black with mascara running down your cheeks as you tried to hold onto something to steady yourself.

In and out, you almost feel lightheaded; hot strings of clear drool run from the corners of your mouth and down to the floor.

Bakugo hisses as he abuses your throat, lipstick marks staining the tender skin of his cock as he drags your lips onto him. He pulls out to let you breathe for a second, admiring the mess on your face.

"Feeling sorry now?," he asks, your whimpers the only answer he receives, "God, you're such a whore, getting off from this."

You can't exactly deny that when your thighs rub together, heat pooling on your body.

He handles your body with ease, roughly pushing you into the couch face first. You feel his calloused fingers working on your clothes, soon exposing your underwear to him. "What, not gonna talk anymore?" You hear him tease as he pulls your panties to the side.

Not even a warning before he thrusts into your hole, making you squeal as your walls stretch to welcome him. It's almost primal, pure hate fucking; you're sure the stains of your makeup will be a nightmare to remove from the sofa.

The lewd squelching sounds, skin slapping against skin, Bakugo's hand pushing your head against the plush material of the furniture.

Perhaps you should ditch him a bit more, just so he can show you how sorry you can be.

Tags: @shonen-brainrot @doumadono @trickster-kat @imagination-mess

#my hero academia #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski x reader

12 notes · View notes

trippedandfell · 2 years

Note

if you’re still taking prompts: “i don’t think this is going to work anymore” for buck and eddie!

anon thank you for the prompt this was so much fun!! also on ao3 because i can't help myself <3

Buck gets the text from Maddie before he’s even made it back upstairs, hand clenched so tightly around his pile of mail that he’s half-worried he might destroy the delicate invitation through sheer force alone. It’s not pressing - nothing with Maddie ever is, not anymore - but just there, a simple little smiley face and four words: did you get it?

Buck thinks about responding.

He throws his phone across the room instead.

It’s not like Buck cut everyone off when he left for Boston.

He still texts Maddie almost every day, FaceTimes with her and Chim and Jee on Sunday nights. They’d came up for Christmas last year, bundled up against the cold, Jee-Yun precocious and five years old and begging Buck to buy her everything from the Children’s Museum. He’d sent a picture to Bobby afterwards, received a :-) in response.

Ravi and him text stupid memes back and forth regularly. He’s got a group chat with Hen and Karen to discuss the latest season of The Bachelorette. Chris calls him at least twice a week, complaining about the difficulty of junior year and the ever-looming threat of college.

So really, in the end, it’s just Eddie.

The thing is -

It hadn’t even been messy.

It would have been easier if it was, in a way - screaming and yelling and throwing things until they both said something they regretted. But he and Eddie had never been like that, not then and not ever, and instead it was a gradual glide, a fissure opening up between them until it was nearly impassible.

Until Eddie looked up at him, eyes red rimmed, and said: “I don’t think - I don’t think this is going to work anymore.”

And so Buck had left, even though everyone told him to stay, told him that he could transfer to another station, told him that they could still continue on how they were. But the 118 had always been stupidly codependent, all family barbecues and group karaoke, and Buck didn’t have it in him to make anyone pick sides, in the end.

Two weeks after that, Chimney’s old buddy Eli in Boston had called, and it felt like - fate.

He’d told Eddie, stony faced in his kitchen, trying his best not to look at the cupboard behind him, the hand-painted pottery frog he and Chris made last Father’s Day still sitting on the shelf. He’d almost taken it, the day he stood in Eddie’s kitchen with Maddie and a pile of boxes, house all but empty as he carefully packed up his things, but - he couldn’t. Couldn’t let go.

It seems like Eddie couldn’t either.

“Boston,” he had repeated, like it was something sour on his tongue. “Is this - is this about us?”

Buck hadn’t answered, and Eddie had slammed the door behind him, and the next day, there was a flight confirmation in Buck’s inbox and a goodbye party being planned at Bobby and Athena’s.

(Eddie hadn’t gone, just dropped Chris off. Buck hadn’t been sure if he was disappointed or not.)

He still thinks about them sometimes, when he gets back from a bad call. Thinks of the creased photo still in his wallet, Chris on Buck’s shoulders as he tugs Eddie close, the zoo in perfect technicolour behind him. Thinks about maybe picking up his phone, breaking down the walls between them.

He normally just sleeps it off instead.

In the end, it’s not a question of if he’ll really come back to LA.

His body fights him on instinct the whole way, through boarding at Logan all the way to touchdown at LAX, where Chimney is waiting with a minivan and Jee in the backseat. He hugs Buck a little too tight, and then drives them both to In-N-Out. Buck missed him like a second limb.

They’ve moved sometime in the past four years to a little bungalow with a giant garden out front and an oak tree in the back, lawn scattered with children’s toys and bikes. Buck thinks about late nights with Eddie, poring over realtor sites and dreaming about building a life together, and has to remind himself to breathe.

Maddie’s there too, crushing Buck against her before inviting him in, Jee-Yun skipping up the steps behind them. She doesn’t even give him five minutes to get settled at the kitchen table before she starts grilling him, which is about what he expected. Out of the frying pan and into the firehouse, or however the expression goes.

“So,” she asks, barely looking up from the orange she’s slicing. “Have you spoken to Eddie?”

“Not since 2022.” Maddie fixes him with a look, and Buck relents. “No. He doesn’t know that I’m back.”

“Mm,” Maddie says, managing to fit an incredible amount of judgement into a single syllable. She sits down, slides the bowl of oranges across the table to Buck. “He’s going to find out eventually.”

“He can find out in the church with everyone else,” Buck says around a mouthful of fruit, fully aware that he’s acting childish. A thought occurs to him, and he clarifies: “Is May getting married in a church?”

“Bobby and Athena’s backyard,” Maddie corrects, and Buck, cognizant of the child watching Bluey in the next room over, barely manages to bite back a swear. “Is that-” she lowers her voice, squeezes his hand. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Buck thinks of dancing in that backyard with Eddie, of family dinners and parties and celebrations, and forces down the lump in his throat.

“Of course not,” he says, all false cheer and bravado. “Why would it be?”

So maybe it’s a little bit of a problem.

Maybe it’s a bit hard to go back to the place where he and Eddie started, laughing after a late night turned early morning, unable to keep their hands off each other on the drive home.

Buck doesn’t say anything though, not on the car ride over, not when he’s making conversation with Hen in the backyard. He’s the perfect dictionary definition of unbothered, unflappable, whatever - right up until Chris comes up behind him and nearly bowls him over.

“Buck!” He says, and Buck knew it - got the pictures, saw him over FaceTime - but it’s still a shock to see him, nearly the same height as he is, voice lower than Buck’s ever heard. It makes him feel unbearably old, and then unbearably lonely. “You came.”

Buck forces a smile onto his face. “Wouldn’t miss it, buddy.” There’s music starting, people settling in their seats, so he claps Chris on the shoulder and turns away. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay,” Chris promises, and then he’s loping back across the yard, back to the chairs where - Buck sucks in a deep breath - Eddie’s sitting.

He looks - good, honestly. A little grey at the temples, a few more laugh lines on his face, but still Eddie. Still beautiful, in a dark blue suit he’s fairly certain he picked out when they were still dating, laughing in the store, Buck trying to persuade him to at least try one of the velvet jackets on the wall. They had gone for sushi afterwards, feet tangled together under the table, and Buck had felt - complete.

Now, he just feels kind of empty.

Buck pointedly doesn’t let himself look at Eddie during the ceremony. It’s easier said than done.

Because when May takes her new husband’s hands and tells him earnestly, you’re my best friend, Buck remembers nights spent laying side-by-side in bed, whispering secrets to each other in the dark. When they slip rings onto each other’s fingers, sparkling in the sunlight, Buck thinks of a ring buried deep in a sock drawer, a question he never got the chance to voice.

All in all, it’s a relief when the ceremony ends and Buck can make a beeline for the bar, pausing to congratulate the happy couple on their way to take photos. He doesn’t drink, not anymore - therapist #3 had really helped him uncover some of his less-than-healthy coping methods - so he just grabs a bottle of water, gulps half of it down in one go.

It’s there, of course, where Eddie finds him, leaning against the wooden tabletop and spinning his plastic bottle in between his hands.

“Hey,” he greets, voice rough, and Buck forces himself to make eye contact for the first time today. It’s blinding, like looking into the sun - but then again, Eddie’s always had that effect on him. Buck’s not sure why he thought four years apart would change that. “How - uh. How are you?”

Buck’s thought of this moment a lot the past four years - in therapy, late at night, while out on a call. He’s pictured himself blindingly angry, or overcome with tears. In reality, he just feels kind of dizzy and a little bit sweaty, afternoon sun making the collar of his shirt stick to the back of his neck.

“Good,” he croaks out, and then, because he can’t think of anything else to say, adds, “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Eddie nods noncommittally. “Good weather for it, too.”

And God, they’re so far gone that they’re discussing the weather. Buck wants to scream, or leave, or call a cab and catch the first flight back to Boston, but before he can, Eddie says, “it’s good to see you again,” so honest and open, and he can’t help but relax a little.

“It’s good to be back,” he says, and it’s not a lie, not anymore.

“Why did-” Eddie pauses, fidgets with the sleeve of his suit. “I mean, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to. But - uh. You could have sent a card. May would have understood.”

And isn’t that the million dollar question, the one he’s sure that Maddie and Chimney and Bobby and everyone in this backyard has had on the tip of their tongues since he RSVP’d yes six months prior. But Eddie’s never been afraid of being forward with Buck, bulldozing where others have tiptoed, so really, he shouldn’t be surprised.

“It felt like the right time.” Eddie raises his eyebrows at that, and Buck continues, “I’ve - uh. Been thinking a little bit, about moving back here. Like, permanently.”

It’s not something he’s voiced out loud yet, not to Maddie or anyone else, but it’s the truth. He likes Boston, likes his coworkers and his shitty little walk up apartment, but it’s not the same as the 118, not even close. Buck doesn’t think he’ll be able to find anything like that ever again.

“Oh?”

Eddie’s voice is carefully detached, one hand playing idly with a loose string on the cuff of his jacket. Buck almost goes to bat him away, before remembering he lost that right a long time ago.

“It’s not home,” he confesses instead, and Eddie’s eyes go soft with understanding. “And - I don’t know. I think - I know - it was the right decision for me at the time, but I always felt I’d end up back in LA eventually.”

“I always hoped you would,” Eddie says, too honest. He’s looking at Buck the way he used to look at him, like he’s simultaneously the biggest puzzle he’s ever seen and the perfect solution to his every problem, and it makes some part of Buck, deep in his traitorous heart, hope. “But - for the record? You were right, to leave. I’m sorry I didn’t see it at the time.”

Four years ago, Buck would have scoffed, thrown that back in Eddie’s face with some barbed remark. But they’re older now, time and distance making everything softer, and he feels - content. At ease.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, looking past Eddie to the crowd mingling, filled with all the people they love - the family we chose, he thinks, the echo of a time long past. “I-” he swallows, clears his throat. “I missed you.”

Eddie makes a little choked sound.

“I missed you,” he says firmly, moving closer to Buck, barely a half step, but enough that Buck’s skin feels like it’s burning. “And - listen. I know that it’s been a while, and I know you aren’t just going to pack up and leave tomorrow, and we still have so much to talk about, but-”

“Eddie,” Buck cuts him off, and then, feeling brave, reaches out to squeeze his hand. “Breathe.”

Eddie stares down at their conjoined fingers for a second before responding.

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were,” he says carefully. “But - I miss you. So if you’re okay with it, I’d like to - uh. Text you again. Maybe get dinner when you’re back in LA.”

“You planning on wining and dining me, Diaz?” Buck quips, before he can help himself. Eddie sticks his tongue out in response, and for a second everything feels right again, like they’re BuckandEddie, the two of them against the world.

“Something like that,” Eddie says, rubbing the back of his neck. Buck’s struck by the unmistakable urge to kiss him, to grab him by the lapels of his suit and never let him go.

He doesn’t, of course. They’ve got so much to talk about still, years of memories to make up for. But it’s still there, hovering in the air between them, and that’s okay for now.

“Yeah,” he says, voice rough, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Eddie’s smile is brilliant. Buck doesn’t know how he ever lived without it.

“It’s a date.”

liked it? leave a comment on ao3!

#911fic #911 fox #myfic #buddie fic #911 fic #as always unbetaed #also this has a happy ending i promise!! or at least very hopeful #cole.txt #asked and answered #prompt fills

101 notes · View notes

came-like-a-postcard · 7 months

Text

which direction...

Warnings: description of a panic attack, language, slight mention of blood, alcohol *if I missed anything, I'm so sorry!! I will be sure to add it*

Author's Note: Hello! So this is a collab between a friend (A) and I (C) that we decided to just randomly start. We're both 18, we both love to write, and we're always coming up with silly storylines and plots, so we decided to take the next step and type them out! Unfortunately, this is supposed to be really *really* cheesy so I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. Future chapters will contain some more mature content (cough cough smut cough)! I hope it's stupidly silly enough :) This first chapter was written by A, so enjoy!!

🫶, C

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

5 things you can see

The nearly fallen sink of this gas station bathroom

A positive test

A stain of grease on the ground

A pile of discarded cigarettes, only an inch from the trashcan

Fuck Off scratched into the side of the wall

4 things you can touch

The soft toilet paper beside me

The bracelet dangling from my wrist

The test

A soft dent in the toilets lid

3 things you can hear

The ringing of silence

A drip of leftover fluid finding its place off the test and onto my thigh

A soft buzz from the lights

2 things you can smell

The waft of ocean sented soap

The smell of the test

1 thing you can taste

Blood rushing over my tongue as I release the soft skin of my cheeks from inbetween clenched teeth

I grabbed my phone from the baby changing station it rested on, hovering over my contact list, urging myself to call someone. Anyone.

My mom?

No she’ll judge me

My friend?

What good will that do

My Ex?

It can’t be his… we broke up a month ago.

My thumb stopped patiently over 4 contacts, names I didn’t recognize, added last week.

I mumbled their names quietly, trying to jog a memory of anything that could have happened a week ago significant enough to render new contacts.

Drinking, A broken heel, definite unpaid bar tabs, hickeys from the next morning, that apartment…

Wait. What?

Hickeys, an Apartment, a Hookup.

Fuck.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, i’m not the type to get blackout drunk, to not remember. There had to be something in that stupid brain.

【1 week earlier】

Soft red lipstick was spread over my lips as I blinked, trying to get used to the feeling of the heavy fake lashes that were forcefully placed there. My soft dark hair fell into place almost perfectly for once, curled for a night of fun. Framing my face in a way I had been told was “astonishing.”

“Y/N!”

I blinked quickly, falling out of the trance I had left myself in and stared at the source of the noise: My friend, Cameron. I smiled softly, pressing my lips together to feel the new texture that they had, to feel the makeup.

“Thanks.” I whispered, standing up to look in the mirror at this new person I had made up for tonight. Someone in heels and a silver two piece. Someone hot. “It’s not too much. Right?”

I glanced over my shoulder, eyes searching for an answer from the pale reflection of me.

“You look perfect.” She said, grabbing my sides as she planted a soft kiss to the side of my cheek. “Now you wanna get hammered, or stay wallowing in the fact you're single?”

“Get hammered” I said, giggling at the pure excitement that splashed across her face as she pulled me out the door.

***

I was a lightweight. That was no secret, three drinks in and my face burned, everything was funny. Everything.

The dance floor was crowded, as was the entire club but it felt good. I was stared at by men, men that I hadn’t been engaged to for 3 months before they cut it off. I was hot, and I knew it.

All reasoning had gone out the window at this point, my focus simply on dancing, letting my body move, letting my hips sway. I twirled around Cameron, stomping hard on the floor to make my presence known. To dig my feet in as if I wanted to leave a mark.

SNAP

Then suddenly I wasn’t up straight anymore, I wasn’t dancing circles around Cameron. My heel didn’t feel like it was carrying my weight anymore. But I didn’t feel the ground beneath me either. What I did feel however was the feeling of hands embracing my waist, holding me up. I looked up, to see soft brown locs and beautiful eyes holding me up.

“Are you okay, love?”

Pretty. That was my only thought as my cheeks flushed at the realization of the interaction, a pretty boy saved me.

“I’m Y/N” I muttered out, biting my lip as our eyes stared daggers at one another.

His lips curled at the sides into a smile as he looked down at me. “I’m Harry.”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #one direction #this was not meant to be taken seriously #liam payne #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #japan business trip #fun fact we actually have a friend named cameron who is nothing like cameron in the book #after movie #harden scott #team peeta #gale needs to exit the love triangle #cliffhanger #whaaaaaaaaaaat

12 notes · View notes

ask-teamplayer · 1 year

Note

Other than Ronin who already answered this, what’s everyone’s favorite subject?

FATE: You're looking at mostly ELA kids, here. Me, Enzo, Seth, Cora, Vera- I think I can speak for all of those assholes, but yeah. We were always the best in English. Though Cora also really likes history. You can probably tell.

SETH: i mean im not really all that interested in anything!! i like cooking and playing keyboard, i get options for stuff like that in the future but right now its just,,, eh?

SETH: but if it were anything i guess it would be english! i dont get the kids who hate reading books to be honest, i actually like reading classics! gotta broaden my mind :B

ENZO: pretty on the mark yeah but i used to prefer gym for a while cause like physical dude

ENZO: but i dont think my actual swordfighting skills account for anything when im playing volleyball with annoying mean girls who keep giggling instead of playing the game

ENZO: or when i get hit in the face with a rubber ball which has actually happened a LOT

ENZO: to be honest i think im the only kid that hasnt died during the mile except nahla cause former track kid

SETH: I HATE THE MILE.

FATE: Can't imagine how the mile would be with people with boobs. I am so sorry. I'm lucky I didn't evolve.

FATE: It is horrible though. It should be considered actual torture - dammit, I know excessive amounts of cardio isn't actually healthy for kids who don't do it all the time! I don't want to break my muscles.

FATE: I'm not looking forward to gym next semester.

LILY: i loooove biology! math and ela, too, but bio is my favorite

LILY: or general science! i love taking care of plants, i actually have like fourty at home! they all have names!

LILY: like why do you think i evolved into a leafeon? honestly i think growing plants in third grade awoke something in me.

LILY: its really fun, but i do have trouble focusing on stuff sometimes. im kinda daydreamy hehe. i really need to get my grades up :( maybe ill see if i can join one of vera and fates study sessions. working next to other people i actually like and commentating in a funny way helps me do it faster.

FATE: You're always welcome. I wouldn't invite someone like Darin or Nahla, but I know you're actually smart and like working and aren't going to piss me off.

DARIN: i hate school :(((

DARIN: i dont like anything :((

DARIN: maybe i should get into sports thatd get me into college no problem itd be so much fuckin easier than this

CORA: You do have it in you, Darin. I believe there's untapped potential in academics.

CORA: I've seen the way you talk about anime and shows you like. There's an actual brain up there, as much as you work to prove otherwise. I'm very proud.

DARIN: AY WHAT THE FUCK CHIEF

NAHLA: WOOOOW, You're allll nerds, huh?

NAHLA: Yeah, I'm in the camp with the traitor, sorry! I don't really like anything, but gym's cool! I like track and stuff, and I do like hitting annoying girls in the face with balls! Coolkid's just a coward and cant bring himself to hurt anyone. Pffft.

NAHLA: No worry! I'll do all the hitting for you guys. Someone has to!

CORA: Oh, Nahla, baby dear, may you hit Wade first? He's been getting on my nerves in second period lately...

NAHLA: Anything for you, honey sugar sweetie baby crystal dreamy dear! <3

NAHLA: Regardless of our totally real romance I just need an excuse to punch him anyway. Or throw balls at him in general.

ENZO: BALLS you say

RONIN: okay posts over before enzo makes another dick joke and cora and nahla start gay fucking on the table. im a little oversensitive right now, fate screaming is just going to make me kill someone. maybe in like an hour guys, wrap it up.

VERA: I also take a lot of art classes

VERA: I would like to get better at traditional because I would like have to have less reliance on stabilizer use

VERA: And doing things like ceramics is fun

RONIN: see? when i need someone to be normal on a stupidly derailed ask, i ALWAYS know youve got me.

RONIN: thanks, v.

VERA: The sentiment is appreciated but when have I not "got you" in your words

RONIN: never, v. never.

#fate #seth #enzo #lily #darin #cora #nahla #ronin #vera #giselles-dumping-hat #ask

8 notes · View notes

starlostastronaut · 4 months

Text

DAY 21 | ZERO GRAVITY

PAIRING: bang chan x reader

GENRE: fluff

WC: 1.19k

CW: nothing

PROMPT: kissing under the moonlight

this is one of my favourites. just, night walks with chris >>>

fun fact #1 i was orginally going to use the pics chris posted from dongdaemun design plaza which is where i set the story, but then he posted those you see in the header and i couldn't resist. fun fact #2 this is inspired by an actual date i went on ;) i hope you enjoy <3

title from constellations - adore delano

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

You lazily reached for Chan's hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his face light up with a smile, and his grip on your hand slightly tightened. You were walking through the city, covered in darkness and street lights, with nobody around you.

One of the perks of being the leader was that skijigi let Chan do pretty much everything he wanted as long as he promised to be careful, and he took great advantage of that, taking you on a late-night walk. These dates have become a sort of tradition for you two. It was the only time you truly had for each other. No schedules, no managers, no nosy members. Just you, Chan, and the stars.

“What are you thinking of?” Chan mused, moving his arm to bring you closer.

“You. Us. How nice it is to be here with you,” you answered truthfully, a tiny blush creeping its way onto your cheeks. Even though it was dark and Chan couldn't see you that well, you still pressed into his side, hiding your face in his jacket. Your action only made him chuckle, and he stopped walking for a moment to place a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“I know,” he murmured into your hair, and you would swear your heart melted at his soft display of love. With a stupidly happy grin on your face, you pulled away from Chan, just enough so you could comfortably stand next to him, and resumed walking.

You kept a slow pace, neither of you wanting to end it too soon. You never really talked much during this type of date, but Chan didn't mind it. In fact, he too preferred it to be rather quiet, with only occasional sentences. Sometimes the best way to relax was just to be in each other's company, enjoying the peace and quiet of the night. No words were needed.

“Channie, wait,” you stopped him after a while, pointing to a staircase with funny shapes that created a heart. “I want a picture with that!” You turned around to face him, giving him your best puppy eyes. The truth was, you didn't even need them because Chan would do anything you asked for in a heartbeat, but you liked to watch the fond smile that appeared on his face whenever you did it.

“Give me your phone,” he sighed, knowing he had lost yet another battle to you. You smiled at him and ran to the staircase, full of excitement.

One of the many things you loved about Chan was his complete dedication to everything that concerned you, including taking pictures. Not only did he give you pointers so the pictures would look as best as possible, but he was absolutely ready to lie down on the ground right then and there, just to get the perfect angle. That was where you stopped him, though, by calling him over for a selca together.

“Satisfied now?” Chan chuckled, lifting his arm from where it was resting on your shoulders. With a bright grin, you assured him that yes, you were very happy with how your impromptu photoshoot turned out. You thought you were going to continue your walk now, but Chan unexpectedly thrust his own phone into your hand. “You know what? Take some of me too, for STAY,” he said, already getting into position on the stairs.

Laughing softly, you stepped back and positioned yourself to get the best angle. “At this point, I expect a handwritten thank-you letter from your fangirls, Christopher,” you scoffed before giving him a few directions on how to pose. “Without me, your Instagram would have zero content.”

Chan had no answer for that, because it was the truth. You were the mysterious photographer behind most of Chan's posts ever since he created his solo account. At first, it took a lot of persuasion on your part, but then he found a liking for taking pictures on your nighttime dates and posting them to both reward and tease his fans.

After both of you were satisfied with the number of pictures, you joined your boyfriend on the stairs so he could briefly look through the photos. After approving of them, he grabbed your arm, startling you as he pulled you down onto his lap. Or that was the intention, at least. In reality, him already sitting on the stairs didn't give him much leverage, and you ended up falling on him. Both of you began to laugh, but not without Chan's reflexes kicking in first to check if you were safe to be loud. Luckily, the area around you was empty, save for an elderly couple walking their dog a few meters away from you.

Suddenly, you felt Chan's fingertips lightly touch your jaw, angling your face more towards his. Satisfied with this new position, he leaned down to connect your lips. Despite the countless times you've kissed him, it still gave you butterflies, like it was the first time. His lips were soft and gentle against yours, with his tongue lazily exploring your mouth. One of your hands found its way into his hair, to which he responded by moving his own hand and tilting your head for better access.

Kissing Chan was undoubtedly your favourite feeling in the entire world. The way his lips fit perfectly with yours like two pieces of the same puzzle, the way he made you feel safe in his embrace, the way you felt how much he cared for you, and the way you knew how incredibly lucky you were to have this man by your side. He knew how to put all of those emotions into a single touch of his lips. Kissing Chan felt familiar but new at the same time. You were positive that you were never going to get tired of it.

When you began to pull away for oxygen, he didn't let you go far. His hand stayed placed on your face, now with his thumb caressing your cheek. You smiled at him, hoping to convey all the love you had for Chan in that one simple expression. His eyes sparkled, and you couldn't help but get lost in the dark, warm, and welcoming ocean of stars that were held in his eyes.

“I love you so much, baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and making you giggle.

It was probably dangerous to sit here in the open, despite the cover of the night. At any time, somebody could take a picture, recognize Chan, and cause a scandal. These thoughts have plagued your mind since he kissed you, but when he pulled you closer to bury his nose in your hair, you forgot all about them. All that was left was the sky full of stars, Chan, and the soft kisses he placed in your hair.

“I love you too,” you replied, settling your head on his chest and letting his arms hold you. As long as he was there with you, nothing could spoil the perfect moment.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo @sleepyleeji

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan #fluff

109 notes · View notes

ectoplasmer · 5 months

Note

Hmmmmmmm R, B, M, & I for the alphabet prompts. >:3

HI AMATA!! thank you for the asks and for giving me an excuse to talk about my boys <3 these were really fun to answer!!

r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

ME!! I AM!!! sappiest one here and I won't even try to shy away from it. I think all of us have our soft spots for each other and that we all have our sappy moments, but I'm definitely the one who has them most often or is just *inherently* that in our relationship. All too often I just get bursts of affection for the boys and am sooo vocal about. Obviously I don't think that's a bad thing, all of them have been through things and I think it's a good thing to constantly tell them how much I love and appreciate them. They just give me a lot of feelings and sometimes I have to get sentimental and emotional about that ^^

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

SOMEHOW we manage to fit into my bed every night: Ryou/Bakura sleeps closest to the wall, Marik/Melvin sleeps on the side closest to the nightstand, and I sleep between them in the middle :3c we say it's so the heat is evenly distributed and no one gets too hot/too cold (bakuras are stupidly cold while the mariks are stupidly warm) but in reality it's just because I like being able to hold/be held by either of them at any time hehehe.

We don’t usually sleep apart, but if we’re staying somewhere while on a trip (like a hotel or airbnb or something) and the bed isn’t big enough for all of us, Bakura is usually the first to offer to sleep somewhere else. it gives him a chance to actually sprawl out and have room unlike in our bed lol. that’s like on reeaally rare occasions though and if it’s literally impossible for one of us to fall asleep we’re all too clingy for our own good to sleep separately agdjfhd >_<

m = memories; is anyone more on the sentimental side?

Surprisingly or not I think Melvin is actually the most sentimental of us (aside from me, but I already answered for a similar question!!). As opposed to the sap question, I think he's a lot more lowkey about it than I am and it’s more internalized than anything. I think he’s the one who’s come the farthest in terms of personal growth since the beginning of this relationship, and it’s pretty obvious.

I like imagining that he’s the kind of person to hold onto stuff or specific things that the others have said because he thinks it’s important or holds some sort of emotional value for him. He’s spent all this time being full of negative emotions, being full of vengeance and anger and frustration, so I think he deserves to hold onto and be at least a liiittle sentimental about more positive things and our relationship :) he deserves all the good feelings now!!

i = in sickness and in health; when someone falls ill, who’s the carer and who’s the germaphobe? is there anyone that resists being looked after?

I feel like Marik fits both these roles simultaneously: he's really quick to try and help to make whichever one of us isn't feeling the best better (constantly needing some control as usual cough cough) but also he's not the best when it comes to whatever grossness that comes with it lol. Ryou's probably the next best bet when it comes to who's the carer: he (canonically!!) has a strong immune system and doesn't get sick too often, and he's usually unphased by the concept of germs and whatever other symptoms come with sickness. He's not the best at knowing what medicines or foods and things like that work to help with sickness but he's trying his best!! and Marik can help him out with that anyhow.

unsurprisingly both Melvin and Bakura are the ones who usually resist being taken care of when either of them get sick. more often than not Marik and Melv get sick from me (bad immune system since they lived underground for so long) and that usually means Melvin gets all fussy and reluctant about having anyone else help him since he can "sort it out on his own" (and then five minutes later he's hacking up a lung lmao). He’ll usually stand his ground about not being looked after but he’s not adverse to being given some care as long as he doesn’t think it’s out of pity from the rest of us. Bakura.... well, Bakura is Bakura. he's blunt and stubborn about not needing help with things and that doesn’t stop at physical ailments. However, if the sickness lasts a few days (rarely ever does: again, his host has a strong immune system!!) he'll give in to rest and being given care with some coaxing because he guuuesses it won't hurt if it's just for a little while. he supposes. puts on a whole begrudging act about how it “had to come to this” as if he doesn’t really love having the attention lol

#i see what you did there with the initials btw lol #againnn thank you for sending an ask!!#these gave me a break from the mind numbing essays i’ve been having to write for school so i super appreciate it #i love talking about my boyfriends……#also i actually wrote a digestible post this time!! way shorter!!! proud of myself for not going overboard lol #quartzshipping #ask game answers #self ship #amy #friends

1 note · View note

levmada · 2 years

Note

Lev, I have been itching to request angst. I’m sorry ok 😭

We know how much Levi is afraid to lose the love of his life in canon world. So Levi break up with his fem s/o , to protect each other from the heartbreak of their death. However, Levi was unaware of her disease. Both of them were a mess after the breakup. Her disease were only known to Erwin and the medics of the Survey Corps. One day, his s/o fained her duties (you can add her duty for example cleaning the hallways). Hange came rushing to Levi about her, he rushed to the infirmary only to learn about her disease.

It’s on your hands, do as you wish.

HI san - thank you for your request (and letting me change some things lol) ! i had a ton of fun with this one, like the words came so easily

i expanded on the world of the Underground a bit + i have my own headcanons about it, so i feel the need to preface that the Underground has 11 distrcts - the lower ones (say 8-11) are much more impoverished / ridden with crime.

seeing how the area is v destitute, i made the way Levi (and everybody) speaks more sloppy/basic. i rly hope you like it :3 and that there are tears

btw, if i could title your request, it'd be 'Thicker than Thieves'

summary: Levi is horrified to lose you, which is precisely why he does so. Little does he know, you don’t have much time left.

content/warnings: terminal illness, (very) protective Levi, bit of a whump, Isabel is cute as always, takes place in the Underground, some tears, angst

wc: 3.5k

“I never want to see you again.”

The word leaves you like a ghost speaks it; between an endless breath that doesn’t quite reach the top of your lungs: “Fuck.”

A single curse isn’t nearly enough to tie up all your feelings in a bow with, but your mind escapes you. It’s all you can think of.

Not enough. It isn't the first time you weren’t enough, whether it be for something or someone—or you might as well think so. Levi left you with no explanation.

Like any other goddamn day, he dropped down from the cobbled bridge overhead—below which you still sit, unfeeling of the gravel digging into your backside, and the stone colored like stained shadows at your back—but he didn’t stay long.

If only he had the gall to tell you he never wants to see you again anywhere besides the place you shared your first kiss.

Plopping down in the muck and gravel and dirt was always asking too much whenever you met up, but he didn’t even lean against the stony wall. He told you, “I have something to tell you,” and then he told you and he wouldn’t answer a thing—and he left you.

Gone, just like that.

“What the fuck?” you hiss. You lurch forward and scrub your face with your scraped palms. They're left trembling and wet with sticky tears. “Fuck.”

What did I do? Was the big question, but only after it became clear he wasn’t joking; as clear as a stupidly clean knife’s edge, which cut just as deep. As ornery as your pride is, if there was a thing you did wrong, or something you said that rubbed him wrong, you would’ve apologized on the spot. That’s precisely what you did anyway: “Whatever I did, I’m sorry. If you’d just talk to me—”

The relationship you and he share (shared) was a flurry of confusing first times for the both of you. You must’ve did something, because if Levi got sick of you and that was it, he wouldn’t have strode away after like he was guilty of some heinous crime.

You can’t remember the last time you ever saw Levi smile—he usually has the emotional propensity of a brick wall—but things seemed good. Years of knowing him convinced you of that. Hell, you met him back when Kenny the Ripper was still around. As shy as he is, too, he buried his hand in your hair and on all accounts was very close to you; you were thicker than thieves.

Maybe it’s for the better, though. Maybe. That suspicion that sprouted in you months ago of being sick has all but grown into a tall, morbid weed.

You’re dying. He didn’t say so like he knew, but even if that’s the case you don’t think you could bring yourself to blame him.

A shred of dark feeling bubbles up in your throat in a manic sob. Then another, and another. At the very least, you wish he told you why.

Days pass, and Levi gets to wishing that he told you why.

The more time he devotes to replaying the whole event in his head, the more rancid the shame that licks at his insides. He owed you that much, but he doesn’t regret doing it, and he’d do it again.

There’s a reason Farlan and Isabel are the only people he considers his friends: they know him like a haunted mansion they don’t dare step into. Meanwhile, you took up residence there and made it a home. If you were forced to leave it—leave him—he would be wrecked.

You came to know him inside and out, and that was a major fucking issue, because he did too. He found refuge in you; that is, if he’s still going along making stupid analogies.

Against his will, Kenny’s lessons still find him every once in a while. He always warned him that if someone gets close enough to slice your throat, they would; on the off-chance they didn't, you’d be so busy protecting their own that a third party would come up and slit your throat for you.

He doesn’t believe a lot of the crap Kenny spewed about anything that didn’t involve fighting, because the guy was no good at it and he even knew that.

But one day, one stupid day when you both landed yourselves in some real trouble, he got to wondering what he’d do if you met some shitty end, and when his breath broke and his heart wobbled, he made a choice.

It’s not like he has his whole life ahead of him, anyway. No one Underground does.

He’s busied himself with numbers in the ledger, and even though Farlan shoots him these looks like he knows, he doesn’t say anything. Isabel has taken to sharpening his knives for him, and cleaning up around the hideout anytime she isn’t pestering them on when they get to use the ODM gear next—but still, she hasn’t said anything.

Levi thinks they both know. Word travels fast no matter how you slice it down here—the Underground is only so big—and they’re your friends, too.

Days and days, shittier and shittier. It’s not like he likes talking much in the first place, but the blind could see that there’s something off about the lines around his eyes, or the way he carries himself like something’s pushing on his shoulders.

Today’s the same, except he’s much quieter than usual because of a dream he had last night. It had your face in it somewhere. It’s not like him, but he wants to remember what this one was about, this time. He’s past the point of feeling pathetic.

One leg crossed over the other, he's running a felt cloth up and down a glinting blade. What Isabel says stops him dead, though; his hand, his thoughts, his blood.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

Isabel pauses braiding her hair with the tie stretched between three fingers. Both of them are staring at him now, ever so often glancing uneasily between each other.

Levi admits: the question came out harsh even for him, but these two are definitely hiding something.

Farlan quirks his brow, flipping a coin over his fingers. “That leg disease,” he explains. “Summa the guys are callin’ it atrophy now, since it’s becomin' a lot more common—down here at least.”

“Sure.” But he doesn’t give a shit about that part. It’s what Isabel said—“Issa real shame…”—followed by your name. “What’s she got to do with it?”

Isabel visibly deflates. Her braid is left loose and messy from her neglect to tie it up, and the mere sight sours Levi’s mood further.

She’s not scared, though. He knows her, and for some reason, Levi is as scary to her as a teddy bear. She’s relieved.

“See?” She glares daggers at Farlan. “Told you bro’s not mean enough to do it cuzza that. Asshole.”

“Farlan,” Levi snarls.

The man himself looks helplessly between the two of them. What these two discuss in their private time is none of Levi’s business most times, it’s true, but while it has to do with you, that rule doesn’t apply. Maybe he has no right, especially now, but you’ve lived under his skin for too many years for him not to care; he can’t even pretend not to care.

And why wouldn’t you say anything?—The atrophy comes from the lack of sunlight, and it takes a good few months to really sink its claws in. It wouldn’t be like you to ignore something so serious, but he still cares, so even though he did what was best, and it was the best choice–

“Shit, ‘Vi, I don’t know,” Farlan scoffs. “‘Cause she wanted to be sure? ‘Cause she was worried how you might react? We figured you knew, since you went and–”

“What I do’s nunna your concern,” Levi cuts in, low and dangerous. “Tell me how long it’s been. When’d she tell you?”

He feels frozen in a block of ice, cold right down to the blood in his veins, but he’s on his feet. As he tucks his knife in his boot, Farlan begrudgingly informs him that you brought it up two months ago, give or take.

He pauses. He can’t tell whether he’s hurt or frenzied or pissed, but he only waits a moment before snatching his cloak off the hanging rack. With it hoisted over his shoulder, he thinks in a string of curses.

Two months alone is bad. It takes longer for some people, depending on whether they’ve seen the sun at all, what they eat, and a slew of other things. What matters the most is he knows for a fact that you were gutter-born, just like him. Already, the odds are stacked against you.

On the inside, he’s busy hating himself around a racing mind when Isabel prefaces that she wants to be helpful before launching into a story: how you had a bad fall not long ago. Rather, you fainted, and she and you were at a tavern deep in the 9th District so it gave her quite the scare–

“She still alive?”

Like a spry bobblehead, Isabel nods. “Last time I saw her was—” she counts on her fingers, “—couple days ‘go.”

“More specific.”

“Three.”

Good.

“I’ll look after things tonight,” Farlan states, like it’s already been decided.

In any other instance it would be, except going looking for you wouldn’t do a damn thing other than cause you more grief. He’s building a different plan in his mind. It’ll be longer than just the night.

Farlan looks incredulous. “A few days? What’s your plan, exactly?”

Levi decides he owes them at least a brief explanation. There’s some guys in the lower districts—garbage street-rat types—but they owe him, and the MP have their snake eyes set on that group in particular for a couple murders of some high-profile people. He can pull some strings and collect the cash rewards. Maybe some blackmail, too.

And for Levi to get done what he might just set out to, he needs to be on his own for this. Farlan spent his glory days in bigger gangs than Levi's, but he’s no killer, and Isabel is Isabel. It’s too dangerous, anyway.

Isabel would normally (immediately) argue against Levi going off on his own no matter what, but maybe there’s a dagger in the way he looks at them, or a dark shadow hanging around him; all she does is mope.

“Trust you, Levi,” Farlan mutters. He slips a deck of cards from his vest. It’s gonna be a long night. “Good luck.”

Isabel gives a small wave. “See you, bro..!”

“Yeah.”

A switchblade in his boot, his hood tucked over his forehead, Levi shuts the door behind him. If he can’t do a single thing right by you again, he can at least make it so you never see him anymore. Thing is, he doesn’t plan on dying in order to make that happen.

A few days later, Levi cringes around the sprain in his wrist, hefts his rucksack further over his shoulder, and shoves aside the board leading into the den you squat in (your fierce independence turned him down every time he offered you a permanent place to stay, but in your defense he only offered once); if you had to find a new place to stay, his friends would’ve said so.

He braces himself for the telltale stench of death, but finds only rotted wood and that same sweet hint of garbage the Underground carries everywhere.

You ought to be here, though. When the atrophy really starts setting in, you can’t get around much. Levi has seen plenty of sorry people slouched dead against this shack or that row of abandoned buildings on the side of the street. Once it finds you, it sinks its claws in.

You better be here.

It took him a week to get it all done—longer than the ‘few days’ he estimated—but it all worked out; or it will for you, anyway.

Your door has almost every hinge rusted into dust (Can’t believe I never fixed that for her), but he knocks anyway; in that special way so you know it’s him.

Nothing happens at first. Time croaks to a stop, and Levi holds his breath, but then your muffled voice finds him through the barrier.

“...Leave.” You sound weary. “I’m sick.”

“I know.”

A pause. “...Fine.”

He jimmies the handle, and limps inside.

“Shit, Lev’.” Your legs feel like barbed wire caked in molasses, but alarm forces you to your feet. “The hell happened to you?”

There’s a fat, ugly bruise on his cheek and a shoddy cast hugging one of his wrists. From what you can see of the thin button-up he has on, something happened to his torso, and it’s been bandaged. It’s the most pathetic you’ve ever seen him (which says something, considering just how long you've known him).

“Nothin’,” he grunts. “Why’re you standing? You’re sick.”

You scoff and carry yourself over to him. He clearly has no idea what to make of you, until you scoop his chin up with one finger to take a look at the bruise. He glares daggers, but doesn’t move.

“You are so full of shit.”

Your tone carries nothing, though, not even pity. Maybe it’s because he’s back after he was the one who never wanted to see your face again; could be, you’re exhausted; or it’s your legs and the fact that you’re dying.

He bats your hand away and trudges over to a rickety excuse for an old oak table. There’s a bag hefted on his back, which he drops down. Your frown deepens.

“And you’re limping?”

“Fell.”

You don’t believe him—in the broadest sense, you don’t believe him. For as long as you’ve known him, there’s never been a fight he hasn’t won; never been jumped, never laid in the street half-dead or high on junk.

If Levi is going to be vague—when it comes to troubles of his own, he always is—you’re not going to waste energy and likely run him off by pressing for answers. There must’ve been a ton of them, and they must’ve been smart; he must’ve worked alone, and halfway through, that contraption he uses to fly broke down. Only the worst-case scenario would’ve left him like this.

“What’d you bring?”

“Sit down,” he turns and leans against the table, “or not. You got a ride comin’ in a few minutes, but you don’t look like hot shit yourself.”

You’re pissed now. Though lead runs in your veins down there, you stubbornly copy him by crossing your arms. You demand to know just what the hell he means, what happened, what he brought, and whether he showed up to your door one more time just to spite you, or what—

Darkness eats at the edges of your vision, and you lose that train of thought. You’re just so tired. You seek help from the wall to stay standing, but you don’t even make it that far before an arm much stronger than your own loops around your waist.

Maybe he isn’t perfectly big in terms of men, but Levi drags you along perfectly fine on his own, all the while grumbling things you can’t hear—partly because you’re on the verge of some dark, dreamless sleep.

“Look, you’re gonna be fine,” he’s saying. You think so, but his voice is warbling in and out. You feel yourself touch down on a bench, located not too far from that rucksack he brought with him.

You shake your head, blinking hard to rid your vision of static. “What're you sayin’...?”

“Why’re you cryin’? I said you’re gonna be fine. I—” he sighs, “—I’m not good at these types of things. S’why I didn’t explain. I got you a hospital stay. It’s not Sina, but it’s the best I could do. They’ll fix your legs. You’ll be fine.”

The words come in a flurry. You wrench your eyes open and smear the wetness off your cheeks. “You did what?”

He kneels before you quite earnestly, one hand rubbing your knee, because it’s shaking, and won’t quit. While it’s damn-near impossible to tell when he’s joking most times, you don’t think that’s the case. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are glossy.

He swallows. “The bag has extra shit in it you’ll need to survive. Don’t lose it, and don’t get it stolen.”

Rapidly, you shake your head. It’s shock, full-blown; you must look like a dunce. Your train of thought runs a bright white blank. “For me? Why?”

His lips twitch. “Dumbass question.”

Incredulously, you snort.

“Can’t you just thank me or somethin’?” The sarcasm is thick. “Do somethin’ besides shake your head like you’re gonna say no when it’s already been paid for.”

Reality hits you like a fat bullet. Your hand falls over his and you scoop up his chin again. Again, he doesn’t fight you, but this time you feel everything.

You need to know, “What about you? You and Izzy and Farlan deserve to get up there more than me. I can’t even come back if I get better,” you shake your head, “The stairs are too expensive.”

“I made a choice,” he murmurs, voice like gravel.

“Th-Then…”

Abruptly, he takes the hand you have propped beneath his chin (struggling not to wince) and plants it down. You hold each other’s hands. This is goodbye, or it must be, but he just can’t say it. You can’t say it, either.

He doesn’t look at you. “You got a chance to live now. I’ll be fine, and they’ll be fine ‘cause I’m looking after ‘em. Get better, find a job, but get the hell outta Sina, and—”

“Levi.”

“—a-and don’t ever come back here. Else it was a total waste of my fuckin’ time.”

You lean forward. “You’re this fucked up ’cause of me?”

He swallows hard, and squeezes your hand. “You deaf? I said I’ll be fine.” And he tries his damndest to mean that.

You squeeze back, as if you mean to break it. Gods, you’re fucking horrified. You’ve never loved a person more in your whole life. If you told him that now—if you even tried to pat him on the head and thank him—you wouldn’t be able to bear leaving. You’re paralyzed where you sit.

“Okay,” you whisper. Rapidly, you blink blurriness from your vision. This could be the last time you ever see him. Those words claw at your tongue. “You find a way out too.”

That’s a promise he can’t make. He looks away instead, but then his head shoots up.

“Carriage,” he tells you.

You hear it too. You swallow your tears. “Levi. I—Thank you. Thank you.”

Curtly, he nods. It’s easy to tell, he’s trying to be like a brick wall, but his eyes look like glass shards. He rises to his feet, and brings you along with him; arm tight around your waist, yours draped over his shoulders. He doesn't forget the rucksack.

Outside, the stagecoach opens the door for you. The interior doesn’t look too shabby. Whenever you’re ready, is what the man tells you, but you don’t think you ever will be.

Levi helps you inside.

“I’ll see you later,” you tell him, but it sounds more like a hiss and it feels more like you’re lying.

Once you’re situated in the seat, he nods again.

“Yeah.” His voice breaks. “See you.”

He knocks the door shut, the stagecoach snaps a whip, and the last you see of him is his retreating form when you wrench your face close to the glass and look back. That’s it, then. Just like that.

If you take a single moment to be in solitude with your thoughts—not at all unlike how you’ve spent the last week, save for that visit from Isabel—you’ll break. At your side is the rucksack, which you drag into your lap and start to root through. You wonder what he thought you needed.

There’s the necessities—some clothes, a hairbrush, toothpaste—and things only Levi would deem necessary: clean handkerchiefs, a tiny bottle of mouthwash, a lockpick, knife, nail file…

You smile, but for some reason the tightness in your throat grows tighter and burns like fire. In one of the side pockets, you find a rigid card—meaning it was expensive. You handle it like a fine feather.

Almost completely filling one side is a charcoal sketch. It’s shaded, and full of four portrait-style drawings of everyone—even yourself. Levi’s crossed arms, Isabel’s two thumbs up.

It’s familiar, somehow. You realize someone, likely Farlan, took that stupid doodle you made once and used it as a guide. It’s incredible.

Your fingers shake as you turn it over. Nine words, two little sentences. It’s Levi’s small, janky handwriting.

I had Farlan draw this for you. Be safe.

What did he say back then?: “The bag has extra shit in it you’ll need to survive.”

You choke on a sob, and finally, tears spill down your cheeks. Even if you never see those three again, at least you have this, and you’ll do your damndest to make Levi’s sacrifice worth it.

You have to. You must.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

#levi x y/n #levi ackerman x you #snk #levi heichou #levi x you #levi x reader #aot angst #levi ackerman #aot anime #aot oneshot #levi oneshot #g.scribe

129 notes · View notes

1kook · 3 years

Text

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting one

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: jk is a ditzy lil nerdy sweetheart, college crushes, social distancing -_-, use of the zoom app, 1kook Builds a Healthy Relationship (Version 2.0) ratings: M (18+) wc: 3.2k

notes: well. here we are. as always i have to thank common sense (coincidentally named rumu @kigurumu ) for reading this over and pointing out little details <3 after much deliberation, i have decided to post our beloved zoom jk (see origin story here) in the form of short ‘drabbles’ depicting diff zoom calls with this being The Beginning™️ so please... bare with me </3 ty to all the nice ppl who have been excited for this, luv u very much 🥺

There are times in human history where words captivate their audience; times when single words or phrases wrap around the listener, melt into their bones and radiate warmth from within. But rarely does one word manage such an impact, rarely is it as revered and as cherished as the word cancelled is to most college students.

Class is cancelled, group meetings are cancelled, the stupidly big semester final project was cancelled. You could cancel nearly anything, and in most cases, it would be beautiful. Cancelled meant more time to sleep in the morning, an afternoon free of pesky project partners, a pleasant reprieve from having to socialize with anyone. It was a glorious word with heavenly connotations that brought tears of joy to your eyes whenever you saw it appear in an email preview.

Except this one.

Spring Semester 2021: On-Campus Classes CANCELLED — Social Distance Measures as per State Regula…

Your last semester as a student in university… online? You couldn’t believe it. All these years of studying rigorously, cramming for exams, attaining a near perfect GPA— just to sit in your bedroom and stare at your computer screen for the last 15 weeks of classes? Had your friends not been there to mope with you, you’re certain a part of you would have gone on a rampage and cursed every bacteria known to mankind for doing this to you.

It was your last year, you whined in private (never in public; your friends had always considered you the mature one, the studious friend who kept everyone in order), yet here you were, setting up your desk for your last ever first day of classes with quite possibly the biggest pout on your face.

Zoom, your school had raved in an email a few weeks into the break, the desktop application that will keep us united in these trying times! As if, you huffed, giving the stupid application permission to connect to your computer’s camera and audio systems. What even was proper Zoom etiquette? Did you have to enter the meeting and greet every student cheerfully? You had always said hi to your classmates before, but something about saying it over a computer mic felt awkward.

The feeling doubled when you finally entered the meeting, only to be met with a sea of black screens save for your professor, who seemed to be clicking around his computer in a rather confused fashion. This was going to suck, you thought bitterly.

You had entered the room ten minutes earlier because, well, you always showed up to class a few minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting time. But was there any point to doing that here? Usually, the time before class was spent making small talk with said classmates, discussing the readings or the assignments, talking mindlessly about whatever came to mind. But something in your gut said it would be weird to do that now.

So you sit in silence for the next ten minutes, nervously tapping your pen against your desk as you wait for the professor to launch into whatever introductory monologue he had planned. You toy with your phone, scrolling through your twitter feed only to see a brigade of tweets from students all over the nation suffering the same fate as you. It was a trending topic.

Two minutes before the class starts, you hear the tell-tale ping of someone entering the meeting. You wave it off just like you have your other 41 classmates thus far, but then there’s the clearing of a throat, and a sweet, “good morning” filtering through your speakers. Lifting your head from the hunched over position you had assumed while glancing at your phone, you’re startled by the sudden handsome face that appears before you.

In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window.

He’s nothing short of a dreamboat, soft and doughy cheeks that catch the hue of the screen light, highlighting his cheekbones in a faint blue color. Imploring doe eyes blinking widely at the screen as he clicks around, narrating his confusion in a low mumble (mic still on, how cute). Dark hair— was it brown? black? the pixelated screen made it hard to tell —messily pushed away from his face.

And his voice, oh his voice. It matches his gentle appearance perfectly. A soft snort. “Am I the only one here?” he says, thin lips pulled to the side in a bashful grin.

The professor laughs with him. “No, but you are the only one with your camera on,” he responds.

You’re not sure if it’s the professor’s teasing jab at literally everyone else or the need to support the cutie who smiles softly at screen, but suddenly, a handful of windows come to life. Your classmates fill up the screen, dressed in an array of styles with bedrooms (and, on the rare occasion, dorm rooms) to match. You nibble at your bottom lip, finger hovering over the button that will expose your appearance to the rest of your classmates

Eventually, the wordless peer pressure, the need to be a good student, and the supportive face of Jeon Jungkook (he/him) have you inhaling sharply before dutifully clicking the camera on. Your face appears on screen, nearly lost in the now overwhelming sea of faces. You’re one of the last ones to turn your camera on, both pages of your zoom meeting participant windows filled with the contrasting images of your classmates joining from their bedrooms. The professor claps in delight, and finally dives into the mandatory first day of classes spiel.

Syllabuses, group work, asynchronous lectures. You’ve heard these words all before, have practically memorized this class’s syllabus like the back of your hand. The pros of being an overachiever. The cons are, however, that you think every question your classmates ask is stupid. Read the syllabus, you want to scream. But it’s the first day of class. You don’t even know who your assigned study group partners (as mentioned in the syllabus) are and you certainly don’t want them to dislike you so soon. They can do that after the third meeting, but not today.

You’re not entirely surprised when your attention drifts away from the professor and the endless sea of stupid questions he’s left to answer. Even when you realize you’ve stopped paying attention, you don’t bother forcing yourself to tune back in. No, instead your focus drifts across the windows of faces.

Some of your classmates are as bored as you, glaring at the screen with disinterest, or glancing off to the side probably at their phones. So you start looking at their rooms, analyzing their decorations and posters as if you’re a professional critic on some house design show.

Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in a rather plain dorm room. Plain light gray walls— or maybe it’s white —free of decoration. He’s sitting at the provided desk, just like you. The only reason you focus on that is because there’s a multitude of your classmates lazily sprawled across their beds, slumped over a couch. Hardly anyone is sitting at attention like you. Well, except for Jeon Jungkook (he/him). He’s practically exposing the entirety of his living accommodation with the way his camera is set up.

Above eye level, reaching just below his chest, with the room all laid out before you. A neat twin bed, sheets meticulously made. It almost looks like the decorative set at a furniture store with the way the comforter and variety of pillows are placed. He doesn’t seem to be in the crappy dorms you remember, which leaves you wondering where exactly he’s been assigned. You know certain sports clubs get fancier dormitories. Anyway, there’s a door off the side of the bed, a black guitar standing in the corner just behind it. You wonder what’s behind the camera, if maybe his desk is as organized as the rest of his room. Maybe his closet is his weakness, you muse, imagining poor Jeon Jungkook (he/him) with a tornado of a closet. But the thought doesn’t make that much sense, so you discard it quickly.

Anyway, his dorm room. It’s neat and orderly, makes you tilt your head curiously as he swivels from side to side before you. As for himself, he’s dressed in a plain white sweater, hoodie strings perfectly even. His hair has long since fallen over his forehead, but he’s pushed it over this time in a fluffy side part. He was adorably soft.

He’s paying attention to the professor like he genuinely treasures every word that comes off his tongue, nodding along understandingly. He’s even got a pencil in hand, leaning forward every few seconds to scribble something down hurriedly. Not like this is all on the syllabus or anything, you think.

But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s dispelled just as fast. He’s only trying to be a good student, you scold yourself, feeling oddly mean for wanting to make fun of this sweet boy. Especially when he raises his hand a second later and asks the first good question of the day. Something about the grading scale for group projects and how much is determined by the group members themselves. You’re not too sure, the words get a little fuzzy when he starts speaking and his pink lips pull down into an endearing pout.

A couple minutes later and your professor finally wraps up the questions, telling everyone to email him if any other questions arise throughout the semester. Just as you’re sighing in relief, he utters those dreaded words: “Ice-breakers!” he exclaims, and the whole class grimaces, much to his amusement. He says something about feeling the excitement through the screen, but then changes gears. “Since it’s a little hard to talk to your neighbor, I’m going to test out the Breakout Rooms and see how that works, okay guys?”

You frown. Breakout Rooms? What on earth was that? Like most of your classmates, this is pretty much your first rodeo with the Zoom application. He was sending you all into small groups, where? The answer presents itself a few seconds later, a message box appearing on your screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 4

Your professor is still chattering in the background when you nervously accept the invitation, his voice suddenly cut off as your computer jumps to a new loading screen. It takes a while before you’re suddenly dumped into a new room. And then you’re staring at your own face, blown up on your own screen in a rather uncomfortable way. Jeez, did you really look like this?

As soon as you get to picking at your appearance, your mirrored reflection jumps to the side, once, then twice more to fit the three new guests in your room. Silence fills your bedroom as you and your classmates all stare at each other nervously for a couple seconds, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, your first meeting.

Just as you’ve gathered all your courage to click your microphone on, the screen jumps around once more and suddenly Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in your Breakout Room. Immediately, his surprised face melts into the most reassuring grin you’ve ever seen, and he’s practically jumping forward to turn his mic on.

“Good morning, everyone,” he says, smooth and low. It’s like the awkward tension melts away under the pressure of his pretty smile, your classmates responding back with polite hellos and good mornings to him. You barely get yours in before Jeon Jungkook (he/him) starts talking again. “So… how are you guys?”

His words, sweet and caring as they are, send the five of you into a rather mindless conversation. Talking about nothing really, just whatever comes to mind about the class, about the semester, about the remote learning. Then Jungkook— “just Jungkook is fine!” he tells the other four of you with that same too pure look on his face after someone refers to him by his whole name —starts talking about some movie he had seen on Netflix the other day, something his friend recommended to him. Truthfully, you have zero interest in the type of plot he is describing, and you can tell some of the other people in your group don’t either. But he’s absorbed in his storytelling, features lit up as he details every last plot point of the film like his life depends on it. There’s a wordless agreement to let him ramble on.

By the time Jungkook has finished his novella recapture of whatever movie he was talking about, a green message bubble appears at the top of your screen. It’s a message from your professor, who is telling you the small group meeting will end in a few more minutes.

“Aw, that sucks,” Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. And then, “oh! We haven’t answered our icebreaker question yet!”

Ah, yes. The reason for this small group was to get to know each other, not for Jungkook to recount an entire two hour movie for you all. “Oh, right,” you agree, probably the first words you’ve said in the past five minutes. You navigate to the chat box, where your professor had hastily dumped the question before sending you all off. “What’s one thing you miss most about being on campus?” you read aloud, glancing back at the screen.

Your group mates are all in various states of blissful comfort, the gaps of their nervousness smoothed over by Jungkook’s bubbly personality, and the hesitation they’d shown at the beginning is practically gone. Someone steps forward and says something about the campus dining hall. Jungkook laughs, loud and airy, claps his hands all cute too. Someone else says the library because it was a good place to study. There’s a lull and you jump in quickly. “I think I’ll miss the couches by the gym in the student center the most,” you confess, though you doubt anyone knows which ones you mean. They were a set of brightly colored couches tucked into a cranny behind the Starbucks just outside the campus gym, avidly avoided by the gym rats who were determined to ignore the sugary drinks and snacks.

Apparently, the hiding spot isn’t as secretive as you thought. “Oh, the ones by the Starbucks?” Jungkook exclaims, excitedly looking at his screen. You have this fluttery feeling that he’s looking at you for the first time. You nod, and he quite positively beams. “I love those!”

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time there,” you say, though it’s a little stilted because you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to react to Jungkook’s enthusiasm. Though his outgoing personality cloaks you in comfort, his pretty smile has your heartbeat acting a little funny.

Jungkook’s got these huge eyes, blinking owlishly at you. “Really? So do I!” And then you both seem to have the same realization. His head tilts to the side cutely, an amused smile on his face, “I’ve never seen you there.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you shoot back, a little snarkier than necessary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. His smile turns goofy.

“Woah,” he says in a rather dreamy tone, “isn’t that so cool? We spent so much time in the same place, but never crossed paths before,” he babbles. He’s stopped looking at his computer, leaning back in a sort of dazed manner with this sparkly look to his eyes, much to everyone’s amusement. Except yours, because frankly, it sounds a little bit like he’s describing— “fate!” he says suddenly, like it’s truly an aha! moment. He pauses, taps his finger against his chin. “Or anti-fate? I’m not sure. But it’s like— we could’ve met so many times before and we didn’t.” Doe eyes return to the screen, flickering around until they presumably land on you again. “What do you think, __?”

And he’s just so cute, makes the rigid shield around your chest soften for the slightest moment as you nod meekly. “Uhh, yeah. Fate,” you agree, and then get to hear him laugh and giggle for about three seconds before you’re suddenly thrown back into the larger Zoom meeting.

Weirdly flustered, you hurriedly click your microphone back off, and nearly contemplate the camera too. But then the professor is asking you all to share what you talked about and you’re resigning yourself to a few more minutes of screen time while the class wraps up. By the looks of it, not everyone had as an enjoyable time as you did. Part of you is thankful you didn’t get stuck in an awkward small group. The other part recognizes wholeheartedly that it’s all thanks to one smiley boy at the bottom of your screen.

“And group 4?” the professor asks, and you blink yourself back into attention. Before you can unmute yourself and answer for your group, Jungkook is beating you to it.

“We talked about a lot of things,” Jungkook answers cheerfully. From your view, you get a front row seat to the sheer power of Jungkook’s magnetic personality, watching as all your listless classmates suddenly snap back from their daydreams to zero in on whatever Jungkook is saying. He fills in the professor about what you talked about, from the movies to the couches, and you feel weirdly mushy when his eyes flicker across the screen before settling with a soft smile.

He can’t possibly be looking at me, you tell yourself. Your hand jerks forward to turn the camera off, but in your haste, end up knocking down the water bottle on your desk. You scramble to straighten it, thanking the universe for the fact you actually remembered to screw on the cap. You glance back at the screen, and nearly die when you catch sight of a giggly Jungkook, smile hidden behind an adorable sweater paw as he laughs at something on screen. Oh no, was he looking at me? you panic.

“Alright, everyone,” your professor says in that “I’m about to wrap this class up” voice. Too close to the screen, voice a little too loud. “Good meeting today, I’ll see you all again on Wednesday. Stay safe.”

“Bye!” Jungkook sings sweetly, and everyone else follows as they all bid adieu to the professor. Still a little frazzled from the possibility that Jungkook may have watched you flail around like a total loser, you take a second longer to turn your mic on. Your classmates quickly leave the meeting, leaving only a few stragglers until the very end.

Surprisingly, Jungkook is here too, brown eyes focused on the screen. You unmute yourself. “Um,” you stammer, eyes unwillingly flickering over to Jungkook who smiles at the sound of your voice. “Goodbye. Thank you,” you rush out, and then quickly leave the meeting as well.

With the meeting over, you’re left staring at the home page of the Zoom app, heart beating a little too fast to be normal. Your face feels warm, and your fingers tremble from some unfamiliar, giddy feeling in your chest. You exhale slowly, hand coming up to rub at your chin as if that will somehow explain the weird excitement from your Zoom meeting. Maybe it was just adrenaline, or nervousness, you try to convince yourself. After all, the first day of classes is always nerve-wracking.

Except when you navigate to your class page and begin to mindlessly scroll through the class roster, there’s a weird stutter to your heartbeat when you catch sight of that Jeon Jungkook (he/him) that appears halfway down the list.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jjk♡#jjk fic #bts smut #bts fic #mine

2K notes · View notes

babesonly · 3 years

Text

fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS.

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny.

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

An ethics lesson from Hell

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want?

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god.

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #mine

472 notes · View notes

mystic-wolf · 3 years

Text

first time with the boys // aoba johsai

Here's aoba johsais version for you thirsty thots. (Fun fact oikawas first time is based on my first time lmao)

Tooru Oikawa

You're his first.

This man is the king of flirting but boy kept his virginity for someone special. Aka you!!

You'd of been flirting for so long and dancing on the edge of being in a relationship, both of you two scared yo fully commit.

Got drunk at a Halloween party and he eventually just mumbled out how much he likes you and wants to be your pretty boyfriend.

Ofc you said yes.

He'd dressed as a devil with spikey red horns and you as an angel. He looked adorable tbh.

Carried you home on his back and nearly dropped you trying to climb the fence.

Stumbled upstairs smothering each other in kisses and fell onto the bed in a mound of giggles.

You were both still a little tipsy but he'd ask if he could fuck you in your costume cause you look so hot. Of course you said yes and fumbled around in your purse for a condom.

He'd gotten all cocky saying how you'd planned this and couldn't resist him so you just smacked his cheek with the packet before tugging his pants and boxers down.

This man is packing, he knows and he's proud.

Makes a joke about how lucky you are to have him before you shove his shoulders down onto the bed and he loses the attitude.

Becomes a whining mess when you slide onto his cock.

His nails scratch at your thighs, the bedsheets, tug through his hair. Anything to try and cope with the immense pleasure.

Cums super early. He's never felt anything like this in his entire life.

Calls you princess when he cums.

He'd eat you out with his cum still inside you, just wanting you to experience the same amount of pleasure he did.

Looks up at you between your legs with those stupid devil horns on and tells you to cum for him.

You two just lie there for nearly an hour kissing and cuddling before finally moving to take a shower and get rid of your dumb costumes.

Hajime Iwaizumi

You've both got experience when you finally sleep together.

Iwa's a little shit and flirts to no end for months until you end up grinding up against him at a nightclub and he loses it.

Has a hard on immediately and you'd just press your ass even harder against him, pretend you're too drunk to realise.

He'd wrap his hand around your throat to pull you flush against his body and mumble how he's gonna destroy you when you get home.

Literally all you think about the entire night until hes pulling you into his apartment and lifting you off your feet to press against the wall.

His hands grab at your ass and he digs his fingers in stupidly hard until you cry out in pain and he fucking laughs against your lips.

Tells you how hard he's gonna fuck you and how you won't be walking straight for a week when he's done with you.

Practically throws you on the bed as he starts to strip and tells you to do the same.

You rip your dress a little trying to unzip it and throw it somewhere across the room.

Iwa slides his knee between your thighs when he kisses you and you can't help but grind down against his muscled thighs. He makes a joke about you getting off just from that.

Replaces his knee with 2 of his fingers and eats up all the noises you make. You moan at how good it is, how talented he is with his fingers.

Iwa loves the praise.

He guides one of your hands to his cock and it looks so dainty because of how big it is.

You get him to full hardness and ask next time this happens if he'll face fuck you.

He's too lost in you wanting a second round to answer and just roughly presses his entire length into you.

You cry out and scratch at his shoulders a little until the hot pain starts to fade and then demand he fuck you into next week.

And this boy delivers.

He puts your ankles on his shoulders, one hand wrapped around your pretty neck as he rails you into the bed sheets.

You feel like he's fucked your brains out because all you can do is lay there cross eyed and mouth open in a constant string of moans.

You're already close but when his thumb starts to rub at your clit you lose it.

You shake against the bed and his body, tongue poking out and eyes fluttering shut as he fucks you through your orgasm.

So full of himself he'd just carry on and say how good he is and how lucky you are to have his cock. And even in your dumbed out state you'd weakly fight back and say he should be thankful he gets to fuck someone so pretty.

You just smirk and tell him to cum for you and by God does that get to him.

Squeezes your throat so tight when he cums and leaves tiny bruises against your skin.

He'd be super apologetic after and ask if you was okay and he'd be floored when you said you wanted him to do it again.

Afterwards you'd just lie in his bed in your underwear sharing a beer with him.

Issei Matsukawa

You both have experience, him moreso than you as he's older.

He'd seen you around college campus and got absolutely infatuated with seeing you everyday and what skirt you'd be wearing.

Got the courage to speak to you one day when you was sat on a bench doing work.

You'd become fast friends and spent a lot of time together and being horny 21 year olds it eventually lead to hooking up.

Brought you back to his dorm and dragged you too his bedroom before you could comment on the horrendous mess.

He hates his dorm mates right now.

He'd push you onto your hands and knees on the bed and nearly rip your thong when he pulls it to the side to stick his tongue against your ass.

You drop your head into the pillows to muffle the surprise.

He'd slip two fingers into your cunt and eat your ass until you're practically screaming for him to stop and just fuck you.

He's a tease and a huge dom though so he'd make you beg for him until he's satisfied.

You'd turn around so you're on your back and spread your legs, pushing your own fingers inside and grabbing one of you boobs through your shirt.

He'd let you have your fun for a moment and then rip your hands away and pin them to the bed.

Calls you a little whore.

He'd pull his shorts and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out and thrust in so hard he pushes you up the bed.

He's so fucking big and he wouldn't give you time to adjust and just fuck you relentless into his mattress.

You'd scratch at his shoulders and back, feeling blood catch under your nails.

He kinda gets off on that.

He makes sure you're super close before he cums so he can time it right. He really wants you to cum when he's spilling into you.

Best orgasm ever.

You'd just be a dead weight on the bed and he'd laugh and joke about you needing to leave before his roommate comes home.

Hes kidding of course and texts him to swerve for the night.

Helps you clean up and lets you pick out a movie on his laptop whilst he orders McDonald's.

You cuddle into his naked chest and share chicken nuggets.

Yutaro Kindaichi

You're his first.

Baby would be so nervous and shy whenever you touch him. He'd always ask if the lights could stay off even when you just gave him a handjob.

Definitely happened when he graduated.

He wanted it to be a special occasion when he said he was still a virgin and that he wanted you to take it.

You have to constantly reassure him and give him complements, sometimes he still feels he isn't good enough for you.

Asks if you can take control and show him what to do.

Please be gentle with him he's super nervous even though he wants it to happen.

You'd slip his jacket off and start kissing his neck and exposed collar bones so softly before stripping him of his shirt.

You spend so long just sat in his lap on the edge of the bed pressed against his chest and kissing him softly before he bites your lip and asks if you'll strip for him.

You try to put on a little show put end up tripping taking your socks off and he's just all giggles and smiles. Makes him feel less nervous too.

Asks you what position you prefer and you just push him onto his back and straddle his hips. He gets the idea.

He's ridiculously sensitive and asks if you can go slow he doesn't bust a nut in 3 seconds.

Touches you all over when you start to slowly move. He squeezes your thighs, your hips your boobs, just anything he can fit in his hands.

Even going slow he'd cum pretty quick, you just feel so good wrapped tight around him.

Tries to cover his face when he cums but you grab his hands before he can so you can see his face. His eyes are scrunched shut, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his forehead.

He looks like an angel tbh.

You'd finish yourself off because he'd be too spent to even pull out of you let alone move.

He goes all soft and shy again when you clean up and pulls you between his legs so you can cuddle your back against his chest.

Says how much he loves you and kisses the side of your neck.

Kentarou Kyotani

You're each others first.

This boy is so blunt and clumsy he'd just be making out with you on his bed and just ask if you want to have sex.

You say you do and get a little nervous saying it'll be your first time and he's just all chill like yeah me too babes.

Kisses your fears away and slowly strips you of your clothes.

He'd just stop and stare and get lost in how gorgeous your naked body looks spread across his bed.

Kisses down your body and settles between your thighs until you start whining for him to strip too.

He wastes no time in doing that.

Kisses the inside of your thighs and traces his finger across your skin.

He loves when you start whining quietly and ask him to do something.

Saves you the embarrassment of making you say what and slowly runs his tongue across your cunt and runs circles into your hip bones.

Definitely growls against you because the noises you make are going straight to his cock.

He's already half hard and dripping.

He'd tease you a little and whisper dirty things against your ear as he gets himself fully hard to your breath against his cheek.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a kiss as he pushes in.

You bite his lip at the sudden pain and he doesn't start to move until you say so. He's a good boy.

Fucks you so slowly in fear of hurting you because he's pretty big and its your first time.

He sucks bruises into your neck and circles his thumb on your clit until you're writhing underneath him.

Your nails drag down his back and draw blood when you cum with a cry on his name.

That just spurs him on even more as he fucks you through your orgasm saying how amazing you are and how much he loves you before he pulls out and cums onto your chest.

Licks his own cum off your breasts and nips both of your nipples slightly which gets you laughing.

You both fall asleep naked and sticky under the sheets.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #oikawa x reader #iwazumi x reader #kindaichi x reader #kentarou x reader #matsukawa x reader #mine

534 notes · View notes

mythiccheroacademia · 3 years

Text

—lunch box

A/N: just another cute idea i had because i’m obsessed with barbarian/dragon king!bakugo and fantasy shit in general. some context: you and bakugo are betrothed—although, sometimes you wish you weren’t bc he can be a real asshole. luckily for you, he’s willing to work on it bc he likes loves you just that much. a litte angst (it wouldn’t be a mtha story without it) but it ends in fluff <3

Warnings: cursing

Your friends looked at their food with heart eyes and dug into the neatly wrapped box with fever.

“Ahh! Thank you for making this, Y/N!” one of them exclaimed. The other could only nod in agreement, too into your cooking to speak.

You smiled and waved them off. “It was nothing. Consider it a thank you for letting me copy the homework last night,” you chuckled.

“Did you cook one for Prince Bakugo? I’d imagine he’d love it! If there’s anyone’s cooking he loves more than his own, it’s yours!”

At the mention of his name, your expression fell. You looked down at the case of food you had prepared for him as an apology.

Four days ago, you two were hanging around his residence. You managed to get him to dance around with you. Well, it more like you were dancing and he was doing his best not to combust in embarrassment. Katsuki warned you that you shouldn’t be too reckless otherwise you’d break something.

Of course, you paid him no mind, too enthralled with your fun to notice your proximity to a nearby statue—one of the Bakugo family’s treasures.

One thing led to another, and you knocked it over, shattering it before either of you could even react. Your rich skin lost its glow and your boyfriend cursed something nasty.

Least to say, his parents were not happy. But instead of being rightfully scolded, Bakugo had taken the blame for it.

They found him attempting to clean it up and assumed it was his fault. You wanted to correct them, but he threw you a nasty glare, sealing your mouth shut. He was now under punishment until they deemed fit and from then on, he hadn't spoken a friendly word to you.

A little sigh escaped your lips. Your two friends looked at each other before offering you encouraging smiles.

“Hey,” one spoke, placing a hand on your knee. You met her gaze. “You should go give it to him. He’d love it.”

There was a moment of silence before you decided to act. Taking the spur of confidence, you stood up and briskly made your way to the other classroom. Just before you entered, you heard his voice and felt your heart waver with anxiousness.

However, now wasn’t the time to let doubt consume you. Things wouldn’t get better until something was done.

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, before opening the door and walking in. Your eyes scanned the room and found the young dragon prince amongst his group of friends.

Jaw set, you walked over to them, hands firmly around the packaged food.

Kirishima saw you first and gave you a friendly wave.

“Hey Princess L/N!”

“Hi boys! How’re ya doing?” you politely asked, putting on your best smile.

They gave you an upbeat answer that lifted your spirits.

Despite that, you hadn't heard a response from Bakugo. In fact, he hadn't even looked at you—but you wouldn’t be disheartened. You fueled herself with faux confidence and held out the dish to your betrothed.

“I-I made you something small yesterday, as an apology,” you stuttered.

Katsuki finally looked up, indifference in his stare. Ruby eyes flickered down to the box filled with rice, chicken, vegetables, and a small pastry on the side. His favorite kind. For a moment, he seemed like considered your offer, but you suffered the low blow of humiliation when he turned away to look through the window.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. Should’ve given it to me earlier.”

Something in your stomach fell. Crushing rejection blossomed up your throat with each passing second. His words were cold, harsh, and unforgiving. It might’ve been stupid, overdramatic even, but it hurt.

Heartbroken wasn’t even the word.

Your nose burned, eyes blurring before you could stop it. Your chest tightened with embarrassment. Luckily, you mustered enough strength to hold in whatever was threatening to crumble you.

“Oh,” you dumbly responded.

“I’ll take it!” Kaminari excitedly said.

“No, I will! I’m still starving!” Kirishima chided.

You placed the box down, struggling to keep up your act.

“Split it between the both of you. I hope it’s good!” You internally winced over how high your voice had become. “I’m gonna to get going now. I’ll see you guys after school, yeah?”

And before anything else was said, you bolted straight out of the room. You hadn’t bothered to look at Katsuki. Knowing him, he probably hadn't noticed the strain in your voice.

As soon as you were out of sight, the tears flooded. You held your hands against your mouth, desperate to muffle your cries. You quickly took you into the nearest bathroom and you prayed no one had seen you lest there be questions. If you went to your friends, it’d cause a commotion. Your parents would eventually find out and you didn’t want any more problems.

So, you cried your eyes raw and eventually willed yourself to stop when it was time to return to class.

…

The week had gone by without another interaction. The weekend brought you some relief since you wouldn’t be forced to see Katsuki’s face for the time being. Or so you thought.

All you wanted to do was run some errands for your parents and then go back home and continue sulking. Yet the universe would not let you rest.

The moment you caught Bakugo’s eyes, you pivoted on your heel and booked it the other way. You assumed his anger with you would force him to keep his distance.

But you were thoroughly surprised to find he was following after you.

“Y/N,” he called.

Irritation and hurt filled your chest. You only walked faster, clutching the purse against her chest.

“Y/N, stop,” he demanded to which you promptly ignored.

This went on for a good thirty seconds until Bakugo decided he had enough. Without much noise, he ran up to you, grabbing you by the shoulder.

You weren’t having it.

You harshly shrugged off his hand. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped, keeping your eyes forward.

“I need to talk to you,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you. So maybe some other time.”

Truthfully, the crowned prince found himself shocked at your coldness. Despite your innate boldness, he wasn’t used to such an icy tone. Especially directed at him.

His father warned him to never attack in these situations, but Bakugo let his temper get the best of him. His first reaction was to frown and deal back harsher words.

“What’s your fucking problem, dumbass? When I say stop, stop!”

A spike of anger flooded your veins. You whirled around on your heel and glared at him with frosty eyes. You felt compelled to drop your papers and slap him, but instead, you settled for a finger in his face.

“First of all, I’m not some dog you can just order around, you jerk! And just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean I’m some girl you can treat like dirt whenever you feel like it! Until you apologize, leave me alone because my only problem right now is you. Bye.”

And just as quickly as you came, you turned to leave.

Now Bakugo was actually stunned. Forget, cold, this was a side of you he hadn't ever experienced. Admittedly, he hadn’t been spoken to like that from anyone besides his mother—and she only got away with it because she was not only the queen…but he was his mom.

Katsuki honestly didn’t know how to handle it. It was only then that he concentrated back on his father’s advice. Whenever his mother was upset with his dad, his father would fight back, but never with emotional anger. Always with humbleness and an understanding tongue.

It usually did the trick considering his mother could never stay upset with him for more than a night. It always struck the teen with hidden awe. Sometimes, Katsuki thought his dad was an angel.

Bakugo was no angel, but he hoped it’d have the same affect on you.

The blonde teen softened his face and walked up behind you. He stopped you, wrapping his arms around your waist to lie his forehead against the decorated braids the fell down your back.

“Damn it. I’m sorry okay?” he lowly said, face burning from such a public display of affection. “Just hear me out.”

You didn’t speak and he clenched his jaw.

“Please.”

You inwardly cursed your rapidly beating heart. If it weren’t for how stupidly nice being in his arms was (he was definitely working out more), and the fact that you found him kinda cute begging for your permission, maybe you wouldn’t have caved in so easily.

For now, you’d blame it on the fact that you two were destined to wed. It was better to start dealing with fights now so, hopefully, the future held less of them.

You heaved a sigh, unwillingly ignoring your body’s urge to curl in his arms. Instead, you pulled away and turned to face him. You peered into unsure crimson eyes with as much harshness you could conjure.

“Fine. Speak,” you permitted.

There was a small pause as he gathered his thoughts. When he opened his mouth, you instantly regretted it.

“I’m still mad at you for being dumb and breaking one of family’s treasures. And I’m still fucking pissed that my old hag is on my ass about it,” he started and noticed how your eyes narrowed in contempt.

You were about to turn away, thinking this was a waste of time. However, Bakugo took a hold of your wrist before you could leave.

“Leave me alone! If you didn’t want to get in trouble, you should’ve just let me take the blame. I can't believe I thought you’d apologize—“

“Let me finish, princess.”

It was your title, yet you felt your stomach flip when it came from his lips. You refused to let it influence you…but you’d give him another chance.

Bakugo stepped closer to you. “I’m upset, but I took the punishment because I wanted to. You didn’t mean to break it. Accidents happen, I understand that.”

There was a pregnant pause. Then, you softened your gaze a bit, eyes still lit with inquiry. “Why? Why would you do that if it meant getting in trouble? I could’ve taken the blame just fine.”

“Y/N, you freak the fuck out whenever you don’t get a perfect score on an exam. You try not to mess up and when you do, it’s like the world is ending,” he explained with a teasing smirk. You ungracefully snorted. He had a point. “When you broke the vase, I could hear your heart drop. You were two seconds away from crying. And when I saw how scared you looked I just—I don’t know.”

The look on your face was something between shock, surprise, and wonder. You blinked, thick lips parting slightly in awe.

“Katsuki…” you breathed to which the boy heavily blushed. Realizing how sappy he sounded, his mind screamed at him to cut it out.

Bakugo looked down and noticed he was still holding your wrist. He quickly let go and instinctively rubbed the nape of his neck.

“D-don’t be dramatic. I just didn’t wanna see you moping around or some shit. My father said that it wasn’t that important anyway…the vase I mean,” he mumbled.

Sure it wasn’t, you thought. What were you gonna do with this boy?

You supposed an apology was a good start.

“That was very nice and admirable of you Katsuki. Thank you,” you eventually said. “I’m still really sorry about the vase, and for being mean to you just now.”

He shook his head. “I know, but I’m the one that should be apologizing. I ain’t hafta treat you the way I did. I was being an ass for not accepting the food you made for me earlier.”

“Yeah you were, ya bastard.”

He chuckled at that. “The two idiots wouldn’t stop raving over how good it was.”

“Well, I had the best teacher in the kingdom,” you grinned.

“And I had an even better student,” he winked.

Your smile widened. Maybe marrying him wouldn’t be so bad.

You couldn’t help yourself when you heartily embraced him, enjoying how his arms slowly slithered around the small of your back. Your eyes met and you kissed him on the lips, leaving him with a little gasp. You pulled away and giggled under your breath.

“You know, you're a sweet guy underneath all that false bravado.”

“False brav—what the hell are you going on about!?”

Ignoring his explosive behavior, you readjusted the straps on your shoulder before turning on your heel.

“Don’t bring anything for lunch on Monday, okay? I’ll see you later, blondie.”

Despite his little tantrum, Bakugo still watched you disappear into the store with a gentle expression. You gave him more headaches than he cared for, but you were worth it. Besides, he was sure you could say the same for him.

Bakugo turned to leave and passed his fingertips over where your lips touched his own.

He’d never admit to the giddiness in his chest. He’d take that shit to the grave.

#mha #bnha fics #bakugo x black reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugo x poc!reader #mha fics #bakugo brain rot activated #barbarian bakugou #dragon king bakugo #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x reader

1K notes · View notes