please i thrive on it

Also like I thrive off praises for some reason and like especially at school since all teachers I’ve ever had always hated me and picked on me (idk why man I never disrupted or shit I got on with my work) so like when a teacher, specially one in my favourite classes, seems to like me/praises me I get so hyped? Like my history teacher (best subject, got 100% on it whoo) actually likes me?? And my French teacher (he’s so lit and chill I’d be really sad if he didn’t like me lmao) said my pronunciation was lovely?? Like boy if you ever want to see me happy or whatever just fuckin’ compliment me on school work lmao

White Lies: Part 2

A Bucky x Reader / Fake Dating AU Series

Master List

A/N: Here is part 2, to make up for my absence the past two days. It’s a bit longer than part 1 too :) I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think! I thrive on your feedback ♥

Word Count: 1,171

Warnings:
- none. maybe language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

“So how is this gonna go?” you asked Bucky in the car, on the way to his parent’s house, breaking the awkward silence that lingered.

“We just have to, yanno, convince my parents we’re a couple,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the road. You watched as his hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

“Hold hands, giggle at each other’s jokes, give flirty eyes, stuff like that?”

It was your turn to grip the handle of your bag tightly, causing indents from the material to appear on your hands.

Keep reading

I Surrender

did i get the title from that one song by hillsong? absolutely. i love my terrible, narcissistic, sociopathic solipsist with a god complex. i also love my mullet wearing evil baby boy. its a problem. here u go enjoy

___

”Aw, shit. I think I’m in love.” Summer was over, school was back in session, and the students of Derry High School were less than ecstatic, to understate it. Same faces, as always; when you live in the same, small New England town your whole life, everyone knows everyone (whether they want to or not). Or, at least, that was the policy until you showed up. It was as if a sudden jolt of energy suddenly surged through the building; everyone seemed to automatically sense that there was a new girl in their midst. The Bowers Gang, situated at their usual place below the steps, watched the students shuffle into school with glaring eyes. When Henry himself set his eyes on you, all sorts of thoughts rushed through his head. “I say we go give our new classmate a proper introduction. Don’t you, boys?” he smirked.

”Oh, this’ll be fun,” Patrick agreed. He never ceased to amaze himself. What fun he’d have figuring out your place in his little world! Like all others, you’d soon learn to bend to his will. Everyone did, why should you be any different? “And where are you headed to this fine morning, little dove?” he asked as they approached you, daring to place his arm around you shoulder.

Oh, no, you thought. Not this early. “Okay, no.” You threw his arm off your shoulders; the others scoffed or “ooooh’d.” “Go bother some other poor soul. I don’t put up with this.” You pushed through the wall of people blocking you; a lanky, bleach blond, a heavier boy with a snapback oh his head, and another tall blond with a mullet.

”Watch how you talk to my friend there, babe,” mullet guy said. He walked up to you, getting in your face, until you were backed into a tree trunk with nowhere to go. The other lanky tall boy, the one with dark hair, got up in your space from the side. Starting to panic, throat closing up, you grabbed your Miraculous Medal handing off of your necklace and drew your closed fists to your chest.

”Well now, what’s this?” the creepy boy to your side asked. Grabbing your hands and trying to pry them open, he smirked even wider when you yanked away from him, desperately searching for a way out. “Oh, come on now, you don’t trust me? I don’t bite… sometimes,” he winked. He was right up in your face now, though the blond was still in front of you. He got closer and closer, forcing his leg between yours so you could barely move.

”You’re pretty. I’m gonna have fun with you,” he whispered, face almost touching yours. You closed your eyes shut and turned your head away from the both of them. “Whatcha think, Pat? I say we keep her,” he smirked.

”Please get away from me.” Your voice was barely audible and you sounded like you were about to cry. the boys got a kick out of that. “I’m not confortable with this. Please just leave me alone.”

”Now why would we wanna do that, dove? You’re just too much fun,” spoke the one now identified as “Pat”. He reached his hand into the bag still resting on your shoulder, and pulled out your beloved Bible; the edges were worn and there were multicolored tabs sticking out all over the place. The only things still perfectly intact were the golden engraving that read “HOLY BIBLE” and the message of spiritual salvation written inside. “Oh no,” he laughed, “Look what we got here boys! God’s little prude!”

Mullet boy grinned and chuckled. “Damn! She’s a Jesus freak? Oh, this just got so much better.”

Pat (which, you assumed, was short for Patrick) got up close to you again. “I can’t wait to show you a good time later, babe. I’ll have you on your knees worshiping me, and your ‘God’ can watch.”

This was the tipping point. You could handle the mockery and the bullying for your faith. You knew that there was a place for you in the Kingdom of God when all was said and done, and what people said to try to hurt you would never be able to take the love of God away from you. But you would not sit idly by and let some bullies disrespect you God, your creator, your father, your infinite love, your savior, and theirs (whether they believed in him or not).

“Don’t ever speak about my Savior like that EVER again. I don’t care if you mock me, I don’t care if you bully me, I don’t care if you antagonize me every day until I leave this town. You do not EVER disrespect my faith. I’ll pray for you through the intercession of ALL the saints and angels, because ‘my God’ is a faithful and forgiving God. But I am not going to let you blaspheme His name to my face. Now leave me alone and give me back my Bible!” you finished, snatching it out of Patrick’s hand before any of them had the chance to come back with a rebuttal.

”Dude…” Vic started, as they watched her quickly pacing toward the front door, “That was kinda hot.”

The day went by for you relatively quickly. You thankfully had no classes with those awful boys who had been harassing you that morning. Other than that and having to introduce yourself/be introduced in every class and then having to be seated in the middle of a bunch of people you’d never met, your day was not bad. Some sophomore in your English class even had the kindness to talk to you and make you feel less out of place. (His name was Bill, he said, and the school had let him skip a level of English because he tested out of it.) When you heard on the afternoon announcements that they were beginning auditions for the fall play (The Crucible, one you’d already done before, and one you enjoyed), you made a mental note to check out the department.

Heading out for the day through the big double doors, your eyes flitted to all of your surroundings, the thought of having to face that terrible group of boys again scaring you like nothing else. You glanced over to the far end of the quad at the same time Bill waved to you, smiling. “Have a good night, (Y/N)!” he yelled, before turning back to his friends.

One boy with dark hair and thick glasses let his jaw drop when you actually waved back and said, “Thanks Bill, you too!”

You were startled by a voice jumping out of nowhere. “Oh, really now, bird? St- st- stuttering Bill? You’d rather spend your precious time with him?” It was Patrick again. You internally cringed, but kept a straight-faced façade. “You know,” he said, circling about you like a vulture, “My offer still stands.” He gave you a wink before backing you into the wall below the steps, hands on either side of your head. He rested one arm above your head and his hand shot down to grab yours. If some random bystander had happened to walk by the two of you, they might’ve even mistaken you for sweethearts.

But the both of you knew this wasn’t so.

His hand clasped around yours, he drew it up to his chest. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “I can teach you how to pray.” Faces almost touching, reminiscent of the encounter from that morning, you received a devilish grin. If you weren’t so absolutely mortified, you might’ve even considered his smile to be a lovely one.

”I know how to pray just fine, thank you. Maybe someone ought to teach you.” With that, you kicked him in his right shin. Dropping your hand and bending over to nurse his wounded leg (and ego, no doubt), you ran off across the street and turned the corner to the nearest church. You hurried inside, blessing God that people were currently receiving Reconciliation.

You sat in a pew towards the back, waiting for the rest of the ley people to confess their sins before you did. You prayed and prayed, asking the Trinity to forgive you for your violent outburst. You prayed for the boys who harassed you. You prayed for Bill. And you prayed just a little extra bit more for Patrick. And then you were the only one left to confess to the priest.

”Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been… about 2 weeks since my last confession,” you said as you sat down behind the screen, not quite ready yet to be seen by this priest. “I’ve been especially bitter today. And I held onto a grudge I know I shouldn’t’ve. And I kicked a boy just before I came here. I’ve had a tough day. I know that’s not an excuse, but it is true.”

”Thank you for your confession. We all have tough days. And it’s especially easy for us to sin on those days. But I believe it takes good self discipline and a strong faith in God for you to be so prompt in confessing these sins. Usually, it takes people a couple of weeks, or months, or they never to it at all. So props to you!” he chuckled, and you did too.

”I have a feeling, Father, you might be hearing from me often. Not that I want to sin, but… there’s a boy at school. A mean boy. He and his friends mock me and they harass me for my faith. The boy I kicked? He was being… obscene, and blasphemous and… oh gosh, I must sound so self-righteous. I know that’s not a reason to hurt someone but I… I panicked. So I kicked him and I ran straight here because I just felt so awful about it. The worst part is, I know it will just be worse tomorrow.”

”This boy sounds like he could use some prayers.”

”I pray for him. I prayed for him just now, as I was waiting. And his friends. They think I’m weird, but… if nothing else, it makes me feel better. And I know that God is listening to what I say, even if they don’t.”

”Right you are about that. Look, you are obviously very regretful of what you’ve done. And you sure sound like you’ll try not to do it again. And God loves to see that in people. Go say an Our Father, a Hail Mary, and a Glory Be. I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

You returned to your pew in the back corner, quietly finished your penance, gathered up your belongings, and left. Walking out the door to the front steps, you checked your watch. It was about 5 P.M. now. You trekked back to the school parking lot to grab your car and head home; your mother was worried sick by now, you knew.

You were hit by an intrusive thought when your car finally came into view. What if you see those terrible boys again? You prayed that you wouldn’t. You were already so drained and didn’t want to go through the trouble of being harassed by those boys again.

And you were suddenly hit with a passage from a book you once read. “Everything that happens once can never happen again. But what happens twice will surely happen a third time.” And unfortunately, the book was right.

”Oh look! God’s little prude came back to hang with us!” Gross. That blonde mullet boy. Oh well, you thought, the lesser of two evils. He and his posse must’ve been smoking in his car just before you arrived; he smelled thickly of smoke and had a cigarette hanging between his fingers.

He grinned smugly, walking closer and closer to you, the other bleach blond and the larger boy following him a few steps behind. “You gave Patty-boy quite the kick earlier. Had to go home to ice it. It’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You’re not as perfect as you pretend to be, huh?”

He was right in front of you now, but you weren’t entirely cornered. You weren’t backed up against your car and there were a few inches between you and him. “I never said I was perfect. I know I’m not perfect. I’m human. I hope your friend feels better. Tell him I said sorry.” You turned and unlocked your car, desperate to get away from this boy who apparently was such a heavy smoker a cloud seemed to be following him around; you could barely breathe.

He grabbed your arm roughly. “Now why would I do that when you can come on and tell him yourself?” He nodded his head over to a blue Trans Am. “Why don’t you come on with us? We’ll have a good time.”

”I don’t think so. I have better things to do than willingly get into a car with a bunch of boys who I barely know, who’ve been harassing me all day. Thanks for the offer, though.”

You opened your door, got in, and closed it, setting your bag and your book in the passenger seat. Pulling out of your spot, you got a quick glance at the three of them walking back to their own car. Hooligans, you thought.

The next day, to your surprise as well as theirs, you sought them out first. You marched right up to Patrick and said, without a hint of hesitation, “Sorry for kicking you in the leg. I hope you’re okay.

He gave you a strange look before grinning down at you. “Nah. I thought it was pretty kinky, actually. Maybe next time we fool around we see what other kinda stuff you’re into,” he suggested, like a creep. Any pleasantness in your expression vanished.

”Okay. Goodbye.” You turned on your heel and went to walk away before, once again, a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

Backing you into the side of the steps, he brushed some stray hairs out of your face before grabbing your chin and forcing you into a rough kiss.

Your first kiss. And you didn’t like it at all.

Making an exasperated noise, you pushed against his chest, urging him to back off. “DUDE! What the heck? That was so not okay! That’s literally sexual assault? Don’t you know how messed up that is?” you outburst. Needless to say, you were not going to deal with this in a calm, civil manner. You were enraged.

Patrick, however, was having a field day. By far, you must’ve been the best creation his brain had ever come up with. If he were any other person, he might’ve even said “She can’t be real,” but he knew that was already the case. At any rate, toying with you was the highlight of his day, without a doubt. “Aw, come on babe, don’t act like you didn’t like it. Don’t you love the rush you get when you know you just committed a sin?”

The smarmy bastard, you thought, quickly apologizing to Jesus for your outburst as well as bad language. “Let’s get one thing straight- I didn’t sin just now. That was you. All you. And I’m leaving now.”

“Better hope your boyfriend Billy don’t hear about this! I’d hate for him to get his little heart broke!” You looked back at him and merely rolled your eyes. “Or your other boyfriend Henry! You know, he hates competition!” But by this time you were up the stairs and ito the building. Today was going to be a long day.

And this was going to be a long year.

______________________

Hola chicas!! I’m not really sure what this is but I mean if y’all want more then I can make more.

And maybe if i do that then it will start to make more sense.

In case you can’t tell, my worst habit is trying to make my fics short, when in all honesty they’re gonna end up being like entire novelas.

Anyways feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

PLEASE reblog if u enjoy dis trash I love validation

AND PLEASE request anything u want i need to write more and i love u all

After Midnight: Part 1

A Dean x Reader / smut series

Dean Winchester is a hunter, and one of the most attractive men you’ve ever met. Your entire life changes when he and his brother Sam unexpectedly save your life, immediately taking you under their wing. When your ever growing feelings for each other are established, Dean discovers that no man has ever made you orgasm before, and makes it his mission to make you feel good in as many different ways as he possibly can.

A/N: Here is the first part of my new series. It’s going to be a long, and dirty ride. I really hope you guys like it. Please feel free to like, reblog, reply, and send me asks. I thrive off of your response and it makes me want to write even more. I appreciate and love all of you ♥ Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 4,548
(not every part will be this long)

Warnings:
- smut/nsfw.
- language.
- a smidge of violence.
- please do not read if you are under 18. i do not condone any minors reading my work. if i do catch it, i will block you.
- always wear a condom, kiddos!

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

You remembered the day like it was yesterday, even though it was now almost 365 days ago. It was the day your life changed forever, for both the good and the bad; the day that Sam and Dean Winchester stumbled into your life.

Working your normal shift at the local diner, you never expected the day would go any different than it normally did. Your life was spent living alone, in a seedy apartment downtown, scraping pennies together just to pay the rent. With no family left to call your own, you couldn’t help but let the misery take over on most days. Half the time, you never even paid attention to the day of the week, let alone the date, considering you worked seven days a week to get by.  Everything was just a whirlwind of crap and more crap, hiding your electric and water bill termination letters under the cushion of your couch, just so you didn’t have to deal with them.

The diner wasn’t a very busy place during the week, but on the weekends it was even worse. In order to be able to pay staff, you were designated to open and close the diner alone on Sundays. This meant that you played waitress, cashier, and cook all in one. Since it wasn’t terribly crowded, it wasn’t that hard, and it meant you didn’t have to split your tips.

That fateful night, a man you’d never seen before moseyed into the diner, and took a seat in the farthest right corner. His face was smudged, as if he’d been rolling in dirt, and his jet black hair was unkempt, with bits of twigs and leaves sticking out of it.  When you approached him to take his order, he smiled at you with rotting teeth; noticing up close his fingernails were just as filthy as the rest of him. The stranger ordered a steak ‘as rare as you can make it’, and winked at you before you walked away. You wanted to gag. The way his eyes started at you as you wrote his order down sent chills down your spine, but you brushed it away and kept moving.

About an hour later, two more men walked into the diner. They were completely different than the stranger in the corner, much taller and cleaner. They were dressed in plaid and blue jeans, with heavy boots on their feet. One was taller than the other, but not by much, with dark brown hair that stopped at his chin in beautiful, natural layers. He was handsome, but the other man was the one who caught your eye, making your heart leap in your chest as he walked towards you. He had the perfect features, with freckles dusting his cheeks and nose. His jaw was strong, and light brown hair stood in spikes atop his head. It was the first time that Dean Winchester gave you butterflies.

“Hi,” he said with a  sinfully charming smile. You felt the heat rise up at the back of your neck, as those stunning green eyes met yours. No man ever looked at you like this, like you existed, let alone someone this painfully attractive. “Can we sit anywhere?”

“Uh, yeah. Anywhere you like is fine. I’ll be over in a minute to take your order,” you somehow managed to say, grabbing some menus from behind the counter and handing them to him.

“No need,” he replied, still smiling. “Just two coffees for me and my brother, please.”

Before your brain could even respond, he was turned around and walking back towards the taller man, who you now knew was his brother. They took a seat in the booth two away from the stranger, and you noticed Mr. Green Eyes was staring directly at him. Quickly getting together their coffees and creamers, you brought them over their table.

“Thank you,” Long Hair said, taking the creamers out of your hands, as you set their coffees down gently on the table. Mr. Green Eyes was still staring at the dirty man in the corner.

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “Sugars are over there, and if you need a refill just yell.”

“What’s your name?” Mr. Green Eyes asked, finally moving his eyes.

You showed him your name tag.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft while his brother dumped as many sugars in his coffee as possible.

Trying to shake this man, with the impenetrable green eyes and 100 watt smile, you turned quickly and went back to cleaning up the vacant booths. Only an hour until closing time.

The dirty stranger left his money on the table and, of course, didn’t leave a tip. Mr. Green Eyes and Long Hair, the most gorgeous brothers in existence, did in fact leave a quite generous tip, and you couldn’t help but smile. It perked you up, and that was rare. For the next twenty minutes, you cleaned the diner thinking about Mr. Green Eyes in particular, and if you’d ever see him again.

Little did you know, you’d have your wish granted sooner than you realized.

Locking up the diner, you felt the hair at the back of your neck stand up, feeling someone behind you. Quickly turning around, there was no one there. However, the adjacent alley, which always terrified you to begin with, gave you the extreme creeps tonight. Tossing the keys in your purse, you began to walk to short walk home, your heart beating loudly in your chest.

“Hi, beautiful,” a groggy, hoarse voice behind you said, making you spin around so hard your neck cracked. It was the dirty stranger from the diner, and your heart fell into your stomach. You had nothing to protect yourself with.

“Get away from me,” you all but whispered, backing away from the man and preparing to run. With lightning speed he was upon you, fisting your hair in his hand and yanking you towards him.

“You smell good enough to eat, little girl,” he growled, exposing grotesque fangs with stringy drool, growing closer and closer to your face. The smell of his breath could’ve gagged a maggot. It was a rancid odor you’d never forget. His now clawed fingers played over the buttons of your white shirt, running a long scratch down your chest where your heart was beating on the inside.

“Hey!” a familiar voice yelled from behind the creature, firing a warning shot off in the arm. “Leave her alone!”

The monster didn’t let go of you, but turned his body to see who was behind him. A small window between his arm let you see who was speaking. It was the taller brother from the diner, and he was pointing a gun right at the stranger’s chest.

Hunters…” it growled, letting you go with force, dropping you to your knees on the concrete. The wind was knocked out to you. You watched from your knees as the creature was now advancing on the taller brother.

“Run!” he yelled to you, as he shot at the monster, missing his chest and hitting him in the left leg. The creature hissed and dropped to one knee, but got back up immediately to charge at Long Hair again. A punch landed on the taller brother’s face, sending him flying back. You wanted to move, wanted to run, but you didn’t want anything to happen to the man who’d saved your life. The creature was now advancing back at you. Watching Long Hair try to unjam his gun, you started to panic. Suddenly, you felt two strong hands take you under the arms and bring you to your feet with ease. You spun around to defend yourself, halting when you were met by intimidating green eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a gruff, out of breath voice. You looked behind him to see a beautiful, black 1967 Chevy Impala parked down the street that wasn’t there before. It must have been how he got here. He was also holding a gun. You tried to answer, but your mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. “Stay here.”

In slow motion, you watched him expertly take the safety off his gun, and fire two shots in the creature’s back, bringing it to the ground. The taller brother raced forward and shot it straight in the chest, right where its heart should be. Finally, the creature was lifeless, blood pouring out of the wound onto the street.

“Sam!” Mr. Green Eyes yelled, running towards his brother. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Dean,” he replied in a huff, dusting the dirt off his jeans. “Go check on her.”

You watched as Dean briskly walked over to where you were standing, your brain in complete shock. Your body couldn’t move on its own, even if you tried.

“Hey, hey,” his voice soothingly said, taking your face in his hands and trying to make you look at him. Your entire body was shaking. “Listen, my name is Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam. We’re hunters, and that thing we just killed was a werewolf. Are you okay?”

Blankly you stared at him, trying to process if all of this was just a dream, your mind hallucinating from stress, or a reality. Everything was happening so fast. You could see the panic in Dean’s face, as he motioned for his brother to come closer.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Sam said, standing behind Dean, his brow furrowed in concern. Still, you couldn’t manage to form a word.

“Alright, look,” Dean said to his brother, his hands leaving your face, leaving you feeling empty. “She’s not okay. We need to take her back to the bunker. She can rest there under our watch, we can explain everything to her, and we can bring her home.”

“I…” you started, tears welling up in your eyes. It was the first word you’d even uttered since this all began. Sam and Dean stared at you, waiting for you to continue. You couldn’t let them down.  “Don’t want to go home. I hate my shitty apartment, I hate my job. Why didn’t you just let that thing kill me?”

“Okay, enough of that,” Dean said, taking you under the knees and lifting you effortlessly in his arms. “You’re coming with us, okay?”

All you could do was nod, as Dean walked you to the Impala. He placed you gently in the back seat, covering you up with a blanket from the trunk. Sam got into the passenger side, but Dean was peering in at you from the door.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”

He remembered your name, and your heart fluttered. You nodded, because it was all you could do. Dean smiled at you and closed the door, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He looked at you through the mirror, and smiled.

“Shut your eyes,” he said, as Sam turned around to check on you. “We’ll be home in no time.”

And that’s exactly what the bunker has been to you. Home; more of a home than your shitty apartment had ever been. After they explained what they did for a living, everything about monsters and ghosts, you were on the team. Dean never let you actually go out and hunt with them, but you were more than happy to help with research, traveling with them to motels from state to state. They were your family now, and you wouldn’t of had it any other way. Except there was one point that you had never actually brought up, or even addressed, in the entire year that you’d lived in the bunker.

You were madly, deeply, head over heels in love with Dean Winchester.


“Can you please untie my boots?” Dean asked you, sitting on the end of the motel bed. He and Sam had just gotten back from a particular gruesome hunt. “I can’t even bend over to do it myself.”

Sam collapsed on the other bed, not even bothering to take his boots off.

“That bad, huh?” you asked, carefully unlacing his boots, pulling them off and placing them neatly near the door.

“Job’s done, that’s all that matters,” Sam said. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He shot up from the bed like lightning, making sure he got the bathroom before his brother. Dean sighed heavily.

“He knows you take too long in the shower,” you said with a giggle. “He wasn’t trying to wait.”

“Are you alright?” Dean asked you, getting up to place his large hands on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. He was always so protective of you, so worried. Since he was touching you now, you knew it would end in flirting. Just like it always did.

“Dean, I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Nothing ever happens to me in a locked motel room. You guys taught me how to defend myself in literally every situation. Stop worrying about me so much, you big softy.”

His gruff laugh filled the room, and your heart melted.

“Did you know today is one year exactly that you guys picked my helpless ass up off the side of the road?”

Dean grabbed a beer out of the mini fridge and sat down on the edge of the bed again. You noticed that he had flecks of blood on his forehead. Standing up, you procured a baby wipe from your duffle bag, and walked over to him.

“Is that so?” he asked, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving you. That was the thing about Dean; his eyes were so intimidating when they stared at you, as if they were staring directly into your soul. He looked up at you as you began to gently wipe the blood from his forehead, before throwing it into the trash. “Well then I think we should celebrate.”

“Dean, we don’t have to. I know you and Sam are tired, we can just–”

“Sam is gonna pass out as soon as those luscious locks hit the pillow, you know that,” he cut you off, standing up right in front of you. He was so close to you now, you could feel his body heat radiating into you.

“So what are you saying?” you asked sheepishly, feeling your face get hot, trying to busy yourself by stacking papers that were already stacked on the table.

“I think we should celebrate together, in your room. If that’s okay with you? We never get to spend any alone time together. Just me and you…”

You swallowed hard. It had never come to this before. Sure, there was always the flirting and the googly eyes back and forth between you, but you really never had been alone with Dean for longer than a few minutes. The chemistry between you was obviously there, but both of you didn’t want to complicate things. Even though this was something you’d never discussed, it was just silently known that hunters never had relationships. It was too complicated.

“Okay,” your heart agreed, even though your brain told you it wasn’t a good idea.

“Good,” he replied with a smile so wide, the crinkles by his eyes appeared. It was your favorite part of his face. “I’ll meet you in your room in an hour.”

Snapping your laptop shut, you gathered your things and left without saying goodbye, your heart hammering too hard in your chest to even speak.


You spent the next hour showering yourself, actually trying to do your makeup and hair. When the knock on the door came after midnight, you took a deep breath, before opening the door. It was just Dean, right? What could possibly happen? Finally, you opened it, to reveal a fresh showered, incredibly handsome man at the door. He was holding a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“I brought this,” he said, walking in the door and sitting down on the bed. “I figured we would drink to you being with us for a whole year.”

“Sounds good to me,” you replied with a smile.

Dean spun the cap off the bottle and took a deep swig, before offering it to you. You also took a large gulp, which turned into you both passing it back and forth to each other; which then turned into you both being pig drunk playing a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’.

“Okay…” Dean said, his head back against the bed as you both sat on the floor. It was too hard to get up at this point. You both had been very handsy with each other, very affectionate, which often happened when Dean was drunk. You didn’t matter in the slightest. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm?”

With a fuzzy brain and feeble hands, you reached out and took one big gulp from the bottle. Dean’s eyes grew wide.

“W-wait,” he slurred, rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter. “What kind of men did you sleep with?”

“Shitty ones apparently,” you chuckled, looking him in the eye. You were brave under the whiskey’s influence. “I’ve actually never even had an orgasm. Well, besides from my vibrator…”

Dean choked on the whiskey that he’d just put in his mouth, a trail of it dribbling down his chin.

“Excuse me?”

Your face was getting hot now.

“Well you’re not supposed to lie when you play this game, right? I figured I could tell you in confidence…”

“No, no I mean of course you can,” he exhaled loudly. “But now I just want to show you how good it can feel. How a real man can make you feel. How I can make you feel…”

Dean had scooted closer to you now on the floor, and his hand was on your knee. Your eyes were locked onto each other, and the spark of sexual tension between you could’ve powered the room.

“Is this okay?” he asked, leaning into you and rubbing his rough hand over the top of your thigh. Good God, this was more than okay. It was what you’ve been yearning for, for over a year.

“Yes,” you breathed, his face now inches away from yours as he now hovered over you. You were leaned back on your elbows, his fists planted into the carpet now.

“Can I…”

“C-Can you what, Dean?”

Saying his name out loud, with such a wanton sound, only increased the electricity between you.

Everything…” he said with exasperation, as if it was something he’d been holding in too.

You answered him by making your lips meet, sparks flying throughout your nervous system at the contact. His hands flew up to cup your face, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. His mouth tasted so sweet, exactly what you’d expected it to taste like; like whiskey, and sweet mint toothpaste.

As softly as his drunken self would allow, he grabbed you by the waist and laid you gently on the bed, settling over top of you again. You let your hands roam everywhere you always wanted to, starting from his shoulders to the small of his back. You could feel the muscles ripple beneath his skin, as his own hands roamed your body.

Fuck,” he groaned, pushing his denim clad erection into your thigh. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your back arched instinctively at the sound of his voice, and you were dying for him to undress you. As if he could read your thoughts, he stripped you of your clothing, tossing it to the side in a heap. Seeing you sprawled completely naked in front of him, he let out a low whistle.

“You have no idea,” he started, tracing a line from between your breast to your belly button, his hands cupping your curves. “How long I’ve been dying to see you like this…”

Reaching up, you tugged at his shirt, then at his belt, desperate to see the treasures that were underneath his own clothes. Even though you were drunk beyond belief, you were coherent enough to know that you both wanted this; needed this.

Watching him strip of his own clothes was the most sinful experience you’d ever witnessed, and one you were sure you could never get tired of. Freckles dusted his shoulders and chest; his shoulders so broad you wanted to scream.

Seeing his cock for the first time made you gasp. You knew he’d be big, considering everything else about him was nothing short of perfect, but you didn’t expect it to be that big.

“Damn,” your drunk brain said, taking it in. Dean chuckled, taking your legs and spreading them gently apart.

“I could say the same for you,” he said, licking his lips as he saw what laid between your legs. His fingers gripped your inner thighs, as he lowered himself to settle right in front of your already soaking wet pussy. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as you look…”

Without anymore words, his lips closed around your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth. You cried out, your hands immediately tugging at his hair. This only encouraged him, as he started to use his tongue, running it from the most sensitive part of your clit, down to lick up the juices you’d left behind.

“You taste even more delicious than I thought you would,” he said, before diving back in, this time inserting a thick finger inside you. You wanted to scream it felt so good, as he expertly used his tongue and fingers to inch you closer and closer to your sweet release. The noises he made as he tasted you were positively sinful, as you watched his perfect, plush lips suck at your clit.

“Dean…” you breathed, feeling the rubber band begin to snap in your stomach. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me—”

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he groaned, nipping at your inner thigh, as he crooked his finger just right to hit your g-spot. Pops of white light appeared in your vision as you came, hard and fast around his finger. The most devilish smirk played at his lips, as he reached up and popped his finger into your mouth. “You see how good you taste? I don’t know why I waited this long.”

Even though you had just came as hard as you’d ever came before, you wanted more. Reaching between you, you wrapped his hard, thick cock in his hands and pumped it, watching as his eyes slowly closed. You guided it to your entrance, as he helped to thrust himself deep inside you. The perfect sting of him stretching you made your head spin, almost causing your walls to crumble already. He filled you up so well, and the sound of him groan as your walls clasped around him was one of the sexiest sounds you’d ever heard.

For the next couple of minutes, he thrust himself in and out of you, enjoying the feeling of your tightness. Dean worked his hands over your entire body, leaning down every so often to place a small peck to your lips.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead; the muscles in his abs beginning to clench.

“It feels incredible, Dean,” you managed to say, feeling the impending wave about to crash down on you. “I want to cum for you. I need to cum for you.”

“Oh please cum, baby,” he groaned, so needy. “I need to feel it.”

It was all he had to say, before you came around him, clawing at his back, leaving red welts. He threw his head back and grabbed your hips, biting his bottom lip as he came inside you. Before he pulled out of you, he kissed you long and hard, brushing the hair off of your own sweaty forehead.

With a soft chuckle, he collapsed next to you, covering his face.

“Oh my God,” he laughed. “I have the spins so fucking bad.”

You laughed next to him, feeling your stomach muscles tighten.

“I guess it wasn’t a good idea to fuck on the first date… drunk.”

Dean laughed again, this time harder, holding his stomach before looking directly at you.

“This wasn’t just a fuck for me, Y/N. I want you to know that.”

“Is that the whiskey talking?”

“No!” he practically yelled, sitting up in the bed. “It’s definitely not. I don’t know what it means exactly, but I do care about you.”

“Well, congratulations,” you said, changing the subject to something more light-hearted. There was no way you could have this conversation drunk. “You’re the first man to ever give me an orgasm.”

He patted himself on the back, emitting a giggle from you.

“I know. And I don’t want it to be the last.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your brain making it self believe that this would only be a one time thing.

“What do you mean?”

Dean took your hand in his, kissing each finger.

“I want to make you cum as many ways as I possibly can.”

Boom, boom, boom, goes your heart…

“How many possible ways is there?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “There are many.”

Dean got up from the bed and grabbed one of your notebooks from the table. He brought it back to you and sat down, all the while you continued to admire his god-like naked self.

“I want you and I to write down things we’ve always wanted to try, but never have.”

“Okay…”

“Then, we each take a turn and pick a slip of paper. Whatever it says on the paper, we try. Only if it’s something either of us are into. We can always say no, of course.”

You walked over to your duffle bag and pulled out a spare toiletry bag, dumping out its contents.

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” you said, ready for whatever adventure Dean was going to throw at you. “We can put them in here.”

“I think we should keep this from Sam,” Dean said, looking you directly in the eye. “Not that I want to hide this or anything, I just don’t want it to… complicate us.”

“Okay,” you said. “There’s no reason to tell Sam if there isn’t anything going on. It can be our little secret.”

For now…

“Right,” he agreed. “Now get to writing. I have a few ideas that I’ve been fantasizing about trying with you.”

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest, as your mind raced about what may come in the near future. With shaky hands, you wrote down five things, folded them up, and put them in the bag along with Dean’s own five mystery scenarios.

“Awesome,” Dean said, kissing your forehead. “You get the first pick tomorrow night.”

Dean gathered his clothes and put them on, stopping to kiss you hard when he was done. Butterflies danced in your stomach, aching to ask him to stay, but knowing you shouldn’t.

“I should get back in case Sam wakes up,” he whispered, as if Sam could hear him through the walls. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, he was gone, closing the door silently behind him, leaving you aching and wanting for more.


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Part 2: All Choked Up

Beverly Hills || Richie Tozier

Request: RICHIE PLEASE & THANK YOU I THRIVE OFF OF RICHIE X READERS

+could i get a uHhhh richie tozier x reader bc the tag is so dry and i need my drug

Characters: Reader x Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough (mentioned)

Word count: 2545 (holy fuck I thought this was going to be 600 words tops)

Warning: swearing

a/n: my favorite thing I’ve ever done! please let me know what you think! let me know if you want to be added to any tag lists!

also a huge thank you to @obscureinfinities and @andshescrazyy for helping me piece together the end. you lifesavers 

Originally posted by anatakesilver

You and Richie were best friends from the start of the losers club back when you were all pre puberty and senseless, the same summer when the whole pennywise situation went down.

Just like you knew would happen the club broke apart little by little as its members moved away or outgrew what made them outsiders to the rest of society. All but you and Rich. You didn’t know if it was fate or by dumb luck but you never seemed to be far away from each other that long. The longest you hadn’t talked to him in the last 4 years was 3 days and that was because the power was out and you were sick.

Even now with college and jobs and all that close one your heels at the end of senior year it didn’t seem to rattle your friendship. You’d still pass by Big Bill on the way to your 5th hour or sometimes sneak a peek at Eddie in the drugstore but  other than that Richie was the only one you still had left.

You stood at your locker, Your books were stacked against each other at odd angles. Sharpie marks you’d been working on for the last 4 years of your life were already started to fade and chip away. You paused for a moment to run a finger carefully where Richie had taken his pocket knife and carved the both of your initials into the thin metal. You’d doubt he’d remember.

“Hey! (y/n), guess what?!” Richie yelled over the heads of obviously pissed off students. You shut your locker and smiled at him. “What?” He snaked his way through the crowd and stopped in front of you with a letter. “What’s that?” His grin widened ear to ear. “I️ got the letter. The letter that tells me if I️ fucking got that shitty ass radio job.” You took the letter from his hand trying to see through the paper.

“Why haven’t you opened it?!” You laughed handing it back to him. “Cause I️ was waiting for you dumbass.” He smiled again and you latched yourself onto his arm. “Are you gonna open it now?” “Well, I️ mean I️ could. I’m just… nervous.” You squeezed his arm a bit as you walk. “It’ll be fine, either way. I️ promise.” He smiled down on you and took a deep breath, “Yeah. Okay.” He dramatically started to rip it open slowly earning a eye-roll from you.

He slid out the paper and started to read it, his pace quickened and his eye grew wide before he let out a hearty yell. “I️ fucking got it! Holy shit!” You yelled and jumped up and down. “You and I️ are getting out of this shit hole called Derry sweetheart, and I️ have a good money maker to pay all those sweet, sweet bills with.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek before running off to his locker to grab his stuff so you could go home for the day.

You placed a hand over where his lips had just been and sighed. You and I️. We’re getting out. Together. You had told Richie when he started bringing up the future that you wanted out of Derry but what really mattered with staying with him. You assumed he didn’t care or wouldn’t remember. But he did, he always did.

You remembered one day freshman year he joked about how he ‘didn’t know where he’d be without you’ and kissed your cheek and you pushed him away laughing “gross Rich! Cut that out!” He just smirked and leaned in close to your ear “one day, you’re going to marry me and then we’ll see how gross that is.” A blush flew to your cheeks. You were thankful the rest of the losers couldn’t hear what he had said.

Sure enough you and Richie had always had a thing, unspoken and forgotten but nevertheless growing, like a tumor waiting to kill you, nice and slow like that boys smile. You guys had cuddled up, shared tight hugs and even a few kisses but those were pushed aside, by you at least, as just bumps in the road.

Sometimes people had mistaken you for a couple, neither of you bothered to correct it. 

“Dinner with my parents right?” Richie asked, wrapping a arm around your shoulders and breaking your train of thought. “Yeah, I️ already told mine I️ wasn’t going to be home tonight.” “Sleepover?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled. You nodded, “sleepover.”

The walk to his house was pleasant. You stopped by the drugstore to buy some smokes and grab some candy for later. You looked through the selves with a sucker playing at your lips. You wanted to find a funny for later and you knew Richie would spot you the cents, he always did.

“Hey (y/n/n)!” You looked up to see Richie grinning ear to ear waving you over. You quickly grabbed a 5 cent deal and went over to Rich. Eddie was behind the cash register, he was decked out in a white apron. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, “Seems our boys got himself a job, isn’t that right Eddie spaghetti.” You could see a small flash of a smile find itself on Eddie’s face with the old nickname. “Yeah, mister Keene gave it to me, said after helping me for so many years he trusted me.” Eddie smiled, proud.

As he rang the two of you up Richie noticed the sucker now caught between your lips. “What flavor?” He asked. You shrugged, “cherry I️ think?” You took it out of you mouth and put it up in the light, he took it and gave it a quick taste, then handed it back to you. He nodded, “definitely.” You looked back at Ed’s to find him watching the two of you with disgust and admiration. “Are you guys…  together now?” Eddie asked. He pointed at the arm draped across your waist and the sucker now in your hand. Richie laughed, “physically, yes”. You laughed and turned away waving a quick goodbye to Eddie as the two of you left the store.

As soon as walked in the door You spread yourself out on Richie’s bed. You always loved the smell of his room. Cigarette smoke and old paper with a bit of something you never quit could describe. Richie pulled off his tee shirt and switched it out for a neat button up you’d normally see on Stanley. You moved to lean your head on your hands and look up at him from the end of the bed. “My parents said they’d be home in like a hour and they expect me to have it on the table. And me as in you and me.” You groaned but still pushed yourself up and followed him down to the kitchen.

By the time an hour passed you and Richie had completed the task. A full meal was out on the table, and more importantly it was good. Mr. and Mrs. Tozier came home and sat down opposite the two of you. You had known them for as long as you had known Richie. They were very nice to you. They were simple and kind to most everyone. Sometimes they didn’t understand Richie but they still supported him and you had to appreciate them for that.

After all of the small pleasantries were exchanged Richie shot you a excited and nervous glacé before clearing his throat to get his parents attention. “Guess what came in the mail this morning.” His dad looked up and his mom nodded, “What is it honey?” Richie gave you a final look before grabbing your hand under the table and continuing, “That job I️ applied for, the radio one. I️ got it! I️ start right after graduation.” His mom cheered and clapped happily and his dad grinned ear to ear, “I’m real proud of you son.” he squeezed your hand a little tighter. “Yeah, Me and (y/n) are moving all the way to Beverly Hills, we’re gonna be in the big time.”

His mom and dad were so proud of him. The rest of dinner was upbeat, his mom asked about what your plans were, you said you’d figure it out when you get there. His dad asked if you were going to live together, Richie answered yes before you had the chance to inject, not that you would have.

You didn’t know Richie had planned this from the start. You didn’t know Richie thought about the future as much as you did. And you definitely didn’t know he was already planning on how to get you to fall in love with him. He didn’t know you already had.  

That night, in his dimly lit room, you sat on his bed cross legged as he showed you a new character he had been working on. “So, what did you think?” he asked and you smiled, “amazing Richie, just like always.” he gleamed at you and sat down across from you. “I can’t believe we did it.” “you did it.” “you think I’d be here without you?” you blushed and looked away, “yeah, it’s all you Rich.” he huffed, “without you I don’t even know if I’d be here.” “Richie you kn-” “No seriously, I mean yeah, I have my parents and they’re great and all but your my best friend. If you had left me like everyone else I don’t know what I would have done.” you laughed a little as the memory from freshman year ran back through your mind.

Richie looked at you funny, “What?” you chuckled again, “I was just remembering the first time you told me that.” he smiled again “When was that?” you glanced back up to him to make sure he wasn’t in the crude joke kind of mood. “Freshman year, you told me that and then kissed my cheek and said we were going to get married.” He laughed, “I meant it too.” “Richie-” you stopped yourself, you knew he was joking, after all that what he does, make jokes. You felt yourself lean away from him, it wasn’t a conscious choice but he definitely noticed. 

“Richie what?” you shook your head. “It was nothing.” “no it wasn’t.” you frowned, “let’s just forget it.” Richie looked worried, he shook his head. “You know I can’t forget it.” you gave him a meek smile, “It was just a stupid idea, okay?” he shook his head again, “No, tell me what you were going to say.” “No,” “Yes.” “Richi-” “(y/n)” “Richie sto-” “(y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n)!” Fuck he knew how to crack you. “Fine! Okay just- wait.” You tried to think about something, anything you could lie well enough about to cover your sorry ass. If you told him, what you really did want to say, he meant just leave. There was nothing to stop him from walking out of your life just like everyone else.

“(y/n), come on I’m your best friend you can tel-” “exactly! Best friend.” you quickly turned away. “What?” you cracked, “I just- I know you think of me as your best friend or whatever but I can’t help but think of you as more and I just wanted to keep my big fat mouth shut so that you wouldn’t fucking leave me just like everyone else, you’re all i have left Richie, I don’t want to lose you over loving you.” you let a few tears drop, you sniffed and he started to panic. He made you cry because you thought he didn’t love you. That’s the only thing he did do. Fuck homework and fuck chores, he was too busy, too busy loving you. “(y/n), I- I couldn’t leave you.” you let out a breathy laugh, “why not? Now it’s just going to be awkward.”  “But, I love you too, I- I think I always have… I just thought you wanted friends with benefits or something… I mean I told you I was going to marry you, friends don’t do that.” you smiled slightly, “I thought you were joking.” “well I wasn’t. Your all I have, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.” you threw yourself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

5 years since you had moved to Beverly Hills with Richie, he was a huge hit. He even got T.V. gigs sometimes, and was invited to all of these events that most people from Derry could only dream of. He bought a real house (with a pool and huge backyard) as soon as he had the money. You said he was spoiling you and he said so what? He took you out everywhere with him too. He’d bring you out to dinner or a movie at least three times a week when he was in town. He had found this spot the first week you got there, a small park off of a big highway. There was a retaining wall to block the noise of the cars and lets of trees and flowers everywhere. He said it was beautiful like you, you said bullshit. He brought you back there every Sunday night, without fail. Even if he had a booking he’d rush home late or bring you early, he said it was your spot.

This Sunday was a bit chilly, you had grabbed a sweater from the house and he had bought you a coffee on the way to your spot. It wasn’t too late yet, only around 9ish. You sat down on the grass and set the coffee next to you. He seemed stressed tonight, you didn’t push though, he never was one to talk about his problems. He sat down next to you and took your hand. “Do you remember high school at all?” you shrugged, he never brought it up. “some, why?” “I was just wondering.” you squeezed his hand a bit, “Are you okay Rich?” he nodded, “Are you sure? we can go home if you want.” a sly grin found its way to his lips. “As long as I’m with you, I am home.” you laughed at his pickup line, he gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek. You brought your hand up to touch the warmth.

He barely ever kissed your cheek, he normally went for your lips or jaw or sometimes your neck. In fact he hadn’t kissed you right there since high school. you zoned out a little thinking about it, “I remember some.” you repeated, he turned you to focus back on him.  “Can I ask you something?” you nodded. “You love me right?” you let out a small laugh, “of course.” “okay, cool. Because I love you too, and I think we should let the world know. So what I want to ask is,” He took a deep breath, “Will you marry me?” you almost screamed, almost. “Y-yes, yes!” you kissed him so hard he feel back onto the grass behind him. You laughed and even cried a bit, talk about being overwhelmed by happiness. He sat up still holding you to him with a arm tightly around your waist. He moved his head to be next to your ear and whispered: “I told you.”

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@thekidsofneibolt @mcheung0314 @pinetree111 @o-starshine @rubi54 @gothelle

White Lies: Part 4

A Bucky x Reader / Fake Dating AU Series

Master List 

A/N: Here is the next installment to this wild crazy ride. Also, I do know that this isn’t really a drabble series anymore because I’m a wordy bitch, but my OCD doesn’t allow for continuity in each post to falter. SO, I hope you guys like this next part, and please send me your feedback. I THRIVE off of your comments, reblogs, and replies. ♥

Word Count: 1,412
(i know, not a drabble kait)

Warnings:
- Bucky is a little shit.
(but he’s so oblivious, please don’t hate him)
- language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

You awoke the next morning to the sweet smell of fresh roasted coffee tickling your nose. Fluttering your eyes open, you suddenly remembered where you were; in a bed, at the Barnes house. Bucky was no longer next to you, but your shirt was partially pulled up your stomach; an indication that Bucky’s arm had been there throughout most of the night. The room was still somewhat dark, save for the soft beams of light that peeked through the curtains.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Bucky’s voice rang out from the doorway; a gorgeous, half sleepy smile on his face. His eyes still looked tired, holding two mugs of steaming coffee in each hand.

Keep reading

BNHA Ch 163

Ok can I just quickly explain why I needed a chapter like this? We had a lot of serious, action, and sad moments in this arc and seeing Class-1A was my healing <3 <3

Also… *Shipping Goggles*

These two look so cute just standing next to each other <3 <3 

Precious boy totally accepting the stuff that’s happened and NOT CRYING OR MOPING AROUND. To everyone who’s calling him a crybaby, here you go *Throws this Development in your face*

Seriously, he has feelings and he lets it out; LET HIM BE HUMAN. I must protec him from those bully readers.

May I add I love this lil bg of Sato shoving Chocolate cake in Deku’s mouth for comfort. >v<  **Please note Momo’s Turtleneck**

I THRIVE ON TSUCHAKO BROTP <3 <3 <3

OK I LOVE THIS. Ochako wanted to become a hero for her parent’s sake and was always inspired and motivated to do her best by watching Deku. THIS is the moment Ochako really felt what it means to be a hero and her desire to be a hero. 

Seriously, this girl has come far… Not only is she developing from ‘I wanna be a hero to help my parents’ to ‘I wanna save people’ but shes also gone from denying she has feelings for Izuku to accepting them and telling herself ‘I have to push these feelings down for now and focus on my goals’

To all those who say shes just the fem protag love interest to say “deku-kun  deku-kun and do nothing” *SHOVES THIS DEVELOPMENT IN UR FACE* 

This Kirimina moment was adorable by the way. They both have history and it was one of those moments where you can tell what they are saying with just looks alone kinda moment. (I wasn’t shipping them before but… like, this is good reason to >v<)

BUNNY EMOTIONAL THERAPY ANYONE?? YES PLS. Thanks Koda <3

THESE BOYS. I missed them, really <3 It was also nice seeing them expressing some rare but natural emotions. Bakugo being a lil shit Tsundere not admitting he was worried but he was. Todoroki being worried and anxious (because we find his dad texted him….) 

I am happy to see them again. :) **Pls note Todoroki is wearing a turtleneck too - subtle todomomo goodness (wearing shipping goggles)**


Anywho!!!! I really needed a chapter like this showing the class worried and caring for the 4 that were gone. As well as the start of this new focus on Todoroki and Bakugo on their way to get their provisional exams. Seems like something is brewing up.

Ok I will end this post with my relatable pic of my every waking life at work:

White Lies: Part 7

A Bucky x Reader / Fake Dating AU Series

Master List

A/N: Okay, ya’ll. Here is part 7. It’s a bit longer than most other parts, but there was a lot to explain :/ I hope you guys like it, even though I know you’ll be screaming at me. (It’s fine, I enjoy it) I guess I should’ve warned from the start that this was gonna be a slow burn. Thank you all, again, for the amazing love and support for this series. I hope this part doesn’t let you down. Please let me know what you think. I thrive on your asks, reblogs, and replies ♥

Word Count: 1,9111

Warnings:
- Bucky is still a shithead.
- You probably won’t like Natasha Romanoff after this.
- language, I think.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

“Oh… my god,” Bucky muttered dramatically under his breath, tugging at his already tousled hair. His eyes darted from you, to the woman who had just burst your happy bubble. Your eyes were fixed on her, and hers on you. In your mind, you were wild west style dueling her; standing in the middle of a desolate street, dust and tumbleweeds scattering around you in the wind. Your finger was itchy for the trigger, ready to draw, and god damn it if you weren’t gonna strike first. There was no way you were laying down and dying on this one.

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I’ve done another one - oh dear!

Seein’ Red

A Demon!Dean x reader / angst, smut

A/N: This is based on a request sent in by @emoryhemsworth and also based on a song by Dustin Lynch with the same name. I love writing Demon!Dean and this came out much angstier (and longer) than I intended, but I hope you guys like it. Please let me know. I thrive on your feedback! ♥

Word Count: 4,829

Warnings:
- language.
- talk of anxiety/panic attacks.
- smut (no one under 18, or I will block you)

Tags: (at the bottom)

*gif is not mine.

“I don’t want you here anymore,” he’d said to you, anger flashing across his emerald eyes. You’d never seen him this mad, and you had no idea what brought on such anger. The next word spat out of his mouth like venom, leaving a wound that still stung to this day. “Leave.”

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anonymous asked:

Bakugou and fem s/o scenario where Bakugou gets his wisdom tooth removed and the drugs makes him more emotional in the way that now he's all clingy, and starts to cry because he's happy his s/o is with him, plus more ooc tendencies that Bakugou would never have. Fluff please with a lot of swollen Bakugou cuddles please<3. Love your writing btw!

The requests I thrive upon are these ones~

Bakugou Katsuki:

“He’ll be out for a few minutes, until then you can rest with him in here. When he wakes up, press the button near the railing and a nurse will come and help you out.” The surgeon told you, gesturing to the swollen and sleepy blonde on a bed in the recovery room.

“Thanks doctor. I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.” You responded, running a hand through Katsuki’s locks, him stirring gently from your touch.

“A bit of swearing when we put the needle in, but then he was out like a light.” The doctor answered you and bowed. You nodded back to him before he left to get ready for his next surgery.

You took a seat next to Bakugou, grabbing your phone and starting to flip through your social media account. It was winter break, meaning all your classmates were out having a wonderful time: shopping, holiday parties, vacations with their families.

You however had been Bakugou’s chosen caretaker when he was informed he needed to get 4 wisdom teeth removed. His parents would try to record him when he woke up, Kirishima would not be able to help without laughing and anyone else was not close enough to Bakugou for him to trust. When he asked you to come with him, you agreed right away.

A hand snagged your free one resting on your leg and you cast your eyes downward to see the wide red eyed boyfriend staring at you in what could only be described as awe.

“You actually came…” He breathed out, seeming to believe you would have actually left him when he needed you.

“Of course I did sweetheart.” You smiled back at him, placing your phone down and pressing the button. “How do you feel Katsuki?”

“My mouth hurts.” he stated, lifting a finger toward his mouth. He appeared to be trying to open his mouth further as well to stick his finger in.

“No no.” You scolded him and he stopped glancing at you in confusion. “Don’t stick your finger in your mouth, your stitches could come undone.”

“They will?” He asked in shock, his hand shooting back down. “You’re so smart.”

You chuckled as a nurse came in and began to go through her check off sheet to dismiss the unusually sweet and calm teen. She clicked her pen and pointed at you.

“You’re his guardian, correct?”

“Yes. I’ll be-”

“Noooo~” Katsuki chimed in, his voice sounding like he knew something you and the nurse didn’t. “(Name)’s my girlfriend.”

“That’s right baby, but you need to be quiet for a minute.” You squeezed his hand and he smiled softly. This anesthesia really was making him act off, wasn’t it.

“Continuing on-” The nurse continued. “You received the pain medication already, correct?”

“Yes they are in my bag. The doctor already went over them with me.”

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Glad for the Stitches

More Gladion/Moon everybody! Read on AO3 if that’s your jam! Rated T, nearly canon-compliant Growing Friendship fic with some Emotional Hurt/Comfort (maybe??). Warning for mention of past wounds/scarring.


Things are hectic after the assault on Aether Paradise. Lillie is safe, Nebby is hurt, Lusamine is gone, and no one knows how they should proceed.

But in the chaos, Moon finds Gladion deep within the Aether Conservatory, and the two share a rare moment of understanding.
There’s always time to stitch up the tears later; sometimes it’s better to let the scars show.

A fic about confidence, and helping one another.


“In a perverse way, I was glad for the stitches, glad it would show, that there would be scars. What was the point in just being hurt on the inside? It should bloody well show.” - Janet Fitch


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LUCIO’S NEW TRACK’S TITLE TRANSLATES TO “OMNIC DREAMS”……

I’M GETTING INCREASINGLY HOPEFUL FOR CANON OMNIC BUDDIES AND/OR LOVERS FOR THE FROGBOY…….. blizzard pLEASE give me this delight we neeD MORE OMNIC - HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS SOB