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rcvcgers · 4 months ago

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Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter one: a new beginning

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

you are here | next part

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you've always hated her. you live your life free from her and caleb. a stranger helps save you from a date gone wrong.

word count: 5.1k words

warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, kinda sad, a good mix of everything! mentions of death. not proofread!

author's note: hi! this is my first lads fic! it's lowkey a mess and is all over the place, but that's okay! i hope you all enjoy! <33 please feel free to comment! i love any & all feedback! <33

You never thought yourself to be a hateful person, but whenever you saw Caleb with her, your heart boiled. His smile was always the brightest with her. He always handed her the first water bottle after a run around the neighborhood. His eyes were always on her and not you during study hall. They shared giggles with one another and you were the last to know the joke as you filled out blank homework pages. Whenever she walked into a room, he jumped to her side and aided her with whatever it is she needed.

And she always needed something.

Your friendship with Caleb and the girl you deemed a she-devil blossomed from a young age, having been next-door neighbors with Josephine. You are older than her yet still a few months younger than Caleb, which meant that the two of you had to look out for her.

She was naive in many ways. She always trusts people too easily and is quick to help, not knowing that the world is cruel and is out to hurt her. It’s something you and Caleb bonded over; taking care of her was something you had in common with him alongside planes, absolutely loving apple pie, and always wanting to be the last one tagged during recess.

However, those childhood days have long passed and you’ve settled into a draining routine where you played a background character in someone else’s life.

When you and Caleb reached freshman year of high school, you were sure that he was going to ask you to be his date to the homecoming dance. Instead, you were surprised with the revelation that he was going to stay home and have a movie night with her since she wasn’t in high school yet.

Despite his compliments about your dress, he snuck back inside his house when you asked him if he needed a ride to the dance. She was waving him back inside in the background and he couldn’t have been happier to watch My Little Pony or whatever bullshit she had lined up.

You basked in his frequent compliments when he met you outside your home, when she wasn’t around. Caleb always knew what to say when you had a saddened frown on your face.

“Did James turn you down? I thought he liked you! You’re a catch!” Caleb’s warm words reached your ears and made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. At least he knew then that you were worthwhile. If only he wasn’t so blind to what you had to offer to him.

At least you had a year of high school alone with him. You two even shared a few classes together and had planned study nights to prepare for final exams! Huddled at the desk in his room, you could smell the sweet apple scent of his shampoo and were able to hear through raspiness of his chuckle right next to your ear.

It was fun until she came inside his room, claiming that she wanted to help you two study. That plan lasted for about ten minutes before she whined and complained that she wanted to watch her and Caleb’s favorite show. That night ended up with her snuggled into his side while he stroked her hair. You held the chip bowl, not by choice, and watched as your crush on the boy next door began to deteriorate.

When she finally joined your and Caleb’s high school, you bit your tongue and held back the deplorable comments that shuffled through your mind about his so called beloved. You even held back comments to your new friends about his relationship with her. You knew that if you ever said anything bad about her, he’d come to her defense and shun you for what you’ve said.

It never mattered how you felt. It didn’t matter if you were having a bad day or had just embarrassed yourself in front of your entire gym class when Becky threw a ball right at your face. His attention will forever be owned by her. You’ll never get to know how it feels to always be under his cautious gaze nor will you ever be a recipient of his charming smile.

Truth is, you used to be friends with them. The perpetual third wheel to all of their escapades and adventures. You used to be close to them but as time moved on, they grew closer together and you, well, just didn’t fit into their equation anymore. The funny thing is that they have no clue of their wrongdoing towards you nor did they realize that you had left their group entirely after months of sitting in your room, filled with nothing but discontent as you scrolled through their posted selfies together.

You thought you set yourself free from them. It’s better to watch from afar instead of up close, no? It spares you more heartbreak and it, very selfishly, keeps you away from her.

You can stay away from her smiles. Her laughter. The way her dark hair falls into the perfect messy bun while yours just looks plain erratic. Not to mention the way her hands always lingered on him while you watched, helpless from the other side of the lunch table.

And you can finally break free from that stupid nickname he has for her.

“Hey!” You hear a friend’s voice from over your shoulder. You turn and smile at them, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready for the game against the Rams tonight? I heard you’re starting!”

Before you can reply, you hear a thud behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice that Caleb leans against the metal lockers. His arms are crossed over his chest and he wears that stupidly charming grin on his face.

“You have a game tonight? Why didn’t you tell us?” He asks. Her smile falters.

Us. That damned word.

“It’s not a big deal,” you shrug, placing your leftover books inside the locker. “You two are usually busy anyways doing…whatever…so it wouldn’t have mattered if you knew or not.”

Okay, maybe there is some venom in your tone and malice in the way you throw your books into your locker. To be fair, you’re so fed up with them ghosting you and never showing up to your games that you can’t help but let some of your anger out.

“Woah!” Caleb pushes off the locker and holds his hands in the air. You roll your eyes and slam the locker shut, walking away. He quickly follows and matches your hellish pace. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Me and—”

“Don’t,” you bark. The two of you pause in the middle of the hallway, your eyes locked on his in a heated glare. “How long do you think it’s been since I’ve hung out with you two?”

A look of confusion flashes across his face. You have to stop yourself from looking at the way his face scrunches up, the way his tongue pokes about between his lips while he thinks.

“Hm…like a month?” Caleb’s words are genuine, you know that, but it shatters your heart to know that he doesn’t even realize it’s almost been a year since you two hung out, let alone were in a room together.

“A month?!” You scoff and look away. A laugh filled with disdain and shock escapes your lips. Your hands drop to your side, tightly balled into fists, as anger washes throughout your body. “Caleb, be real with me right now. Do you truly think it’s been a month?”

You want to give him a chance to redeem himself, for him to own up to the mistake he’s made. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?

“I do, yes…” he wearily says. Your nostrils flare, cheeks heating with irritation.

“Hey guys!” Her cheerful tone scratches the inside of your brain. You sharply inhale and close your eyes just to open them to the side of her attaching herself to his side. “Are you okay? You look angry,” she remarks and gently places her hand on your shoulder. You immediately slap it away. The tips of your fingers tingle from the smack.

“Hey! What was that for?” Caleb steps in front of her, pushing the teen girl behind him.

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing up at Caleb, who guards her from you.

“Just fuck off and leave me alone!” You snap, pushing past them, your shoulder bumping into Caleb’s bicep.

“Wait!” Caleb’s voice rings in your ears. A flash of hope makes your heart flutter.

Is he going to chase after you? Will he finally ditch her and see how you’re feeling for a change? Will the old Caleb come back, the one that actually cared about you and your feelings?

Your feet hesitate, pace drastically slowly, still in earshot of the other two’s conversation. You can hear his footsteps coming after you, going from slow to quick, but they suddenly stop.

“She isn’t worth it, Caleb,” her voice shoots any semblance of hope you felt, ripping your heart into shreds. “She’s so mean…she doesn’t deserve your care.”

The hallway in front of you turns glossy. You use the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that brew in your eyes. Your once reluctant pace hastens and you disappear down the hallway, becoming just another face in the crowd.

The year passed and you graduated with a new group of friends; friends that welcomed and invited you with open arms. Your camera roll was no longer sad, filled with empty selfies with her and Caleb not paying attention in the background, shifting to group photos and friends completing the other side of your hand heart. It filled your heart with the joy and happiness that your previous friendships lacked.

And most importantly of all: you were completely over Caleb and didn’t have to spend any more time around her. It’s a relief for you, really, and you’re able to go to the college of your dreams and pursue the career you wanted.

The saddened memories no longer pained you. They no longer dug into your skin. Instead, you planted them into the soil of your mind, using the special fertilizer (the special ingredient being resent), and grew from them.

So what if they wronged you? You were now free and didn’t owe either of them a damn thing! That is, until Caleb died.

The news nearly broke you. Your mother informed you of the news when you came home for a visit. You were on a much needed break from work and were looking for a chance to relax. Your time of relaxation was quickly turned inside out.

You became a shell of yourself, the last memory of Caleb haunting your mind as you holed up in bed, covers covering the entirety of your body with a small hole for clean and cool breathing air. Your cheeks became perpetually stained with tears, becoming sticky in your sleep before the cycle started all over again.

The day of his funeral was unnecessarily rough. Your mother had to drag you out of bed and help you into the shower, the hot water turning cold from the amount of time you stood there. Once you stepped out, body trembling from the cold air, you stared at the black dress that was laid out across your bed.

It was simple. It stopped mid-thigh and the sleeves ran long down your arms. You paired it nicely with tights from high school, a pair that Caleb complimented you on, and a pair of simple booties.

She was the center of attention, of course, there was no doubt about that. The ache in your chest left you feeling conflicted. She sat alone, head hung low, as people walked by, chuckling as if they weren’t at a funeral reception.

You almost felt bad for her and the way her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She clung to a piece of metal in her hand, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss it.

The distance between the two of you felt like a game of cat and mouse. She took one step forward, you took one back. She entered the hallway you found recluse in, you made sure that there was room in the closet for you to hide in.

You thought that you were able to slip out unnoticed until she called out your name.

“Hi…” your voice falls off. Her fists are balled at her sides, knuckles white.

“What are you doing here?” Her words are sharp, effortlessly slicing into you. “I thought you hated him.”

“I could never hate him…” the words barely come out, just above a meek whisper. She doesn’t say anything else. All she does is stare at you with her heartbroken expression, eyes strained and red from the sobs she let out earlier.

A part of your heart broke for her. The other part remained emotionless, knowing how she tormented you in your younger years by dangling Caleb in front of your face. It tormented you to know that you could still hold a sliver of resentment in your heart for something that happened so long ago. You quietly left, leaving her alone in the hallway, disappearing behind a familiar turn.

A year passes. The hatred you held in your heart has dissipated. You’ve watered the flowers you planted in your mind and the petals read off messages of forgiveness and second chances, even though you made sure to never run into her ever again.

Some people can forgive and forget, but you’ll be sure to forgive and keep a distance.

Skyhaven isn’t too bad of a home. Sure, there’s barely any trace of organic life throughout the city, except for the token tree the mayor decided to add about two months ago, but it’s a nice place to live. You’ve made yourself comfortable. The nightlife is great and the rain is even better. You even made some friends at your job and have gone out on a date or two with a guy who is very attentive.

But none of them are Caleb.

You stare at yourself in the cafe mirror, shaking your head. You fix your disheveled hair, wondering how you managed to spend the last ten minutes digging up the past when you’re on a date with a very cute guy. You bite your lip and tweak the last details of your outfit, flattening out a wrinkle in your skirt.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you glide down the hallway, smiling at the other customers who pass by. You can finally go back to…what’s his name again?

Jared? Clyde? Marc, who always emphasizes that there’s a ‘C’ at the end of his name instead of a ‘K’?

You clap your hands together when the name comes back to you. He jumps in his seat, his eyes closing in on you when you sit down. His smile is a little too goofy, missing out on any kind of charm that he can capitalize on, and you can’t help but watch out of the lower half of your vision as he itches his crotch.

“Thanks for waiting for me, George,” a warm smile spreads across your lips. He matches it and leans forward, pushing a colorful mug in your direction. You watch it closely before drawing it closer to you. You don’t take a sip, though, instead letting the whipped cream on top of the coffee melt. You sigh.

You don’t even liked whipped cream on your coffee. You know who would have remembered that?

“It was no problem at all!” George proudly proclaims. His chair scraps across the wooden floor. He inches closer and closer towards you in an attempt to close the distance but you scoot away from him, keeping a pleased smile on your face.

“So, what were you saying you do for a job?” Your question goes straight to his head. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you refrain from interrupting him about his long ramble about how he works as a “video game consultant” at a local game store.

The conversation is so painful to sit through. You glance between his beady gaze and the clock on the wall behind him. The ticking hands somehow move slower when he dives into his day to day routine. Maybe the whipped cream isn’t as bad as you previously thought.

An hour goes by and you have barely been able to get a word in. Mugs form into a half-circle in front of you. Your leg bounces up and down, hands jittery. Even your blinking is rapid as you solely stare at the clock.

“That’s enough about me. Tell me about yourself,” George grabs his glass. He ordered a cream soda at the beginning of the date but the cream separated from the colorful soda water, forming into chunky clouds.

“You know what,” you breathe out in a laugh, signaling over your shoulder to the door, “it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow so I should get going.” You stand from the chair and snatch your tiny purse from the seat beside you.

The cafe is practically empty now and the sun has set hours ago. You rush towards the exit, the route to the door feeling like it never ends as Greg — oh shit, George! — chases after you.

The Skyhaven night is nice and crisp. The rain isn’t as hard tonight, just a mere sprinkle, and you rush out into the open, taking a deep breath. The chilled air fills your burning lungs and you’re able to breathe again, that is, until George grabs your hand. You gasp and snatch it back from him.

The raindrops lightly kiss your face but George’s sickening smile makes you want to hurl. He creeps towards you, the moon shining just bright enough for you to see the darkness form in his eyes.

“I have to get home, George!” You nervously chuckle, turning away. You rush towards the nearest bus stop, knowing that there will be other people there to take refuge with. George doesn’t let up though and his movements become more primal and animalistic as the seconds tick by.

“Come on, sweetheart,” George beckons from behind. You can hear his ragged breath from behind you grow close. You brace your body for impact…but nothing comes. Instead, you hear a struggle from behind. You swirl on your heels and stare at the scene behind you.

A tall man pushes George away from you. The moonlight reflects off of the shine of his coat, the top of his hat deflecting the light raindrops. You stagger backward, heart racing inside your chest, as George crumbles to the ground, a blur of red, grey, and blue pushing down on the man.

“She said she’s going home,” the voice growls. It itches the back of your mind, calling to you like a faint memory. “Leave. Or I’ll crush you right here and now.”

The voice beckons to you from the back of your mind, putting it at ease. The voice calls out your name followed by a throaty chuckle. It asks you how you’re doing, if you need help with that week’s math homework. You can also hear his voice apologize to you for forgetting about your plans to go to the movies with your group of friends, making some excuse that she got locked in the attic and needed rescuing.

The moonlight turns dark, the floating rock covered by a cloud, as the figure slowly approaches you. The once soft droplets of rain evolve into hardened projectiles, the wind picking up from all around you. With the weather matching your quickly escalating mood, you march through the rain, the phantom chasing after you.

“Hey! You’re getting soaked!” His voice calls from behind. You pay no attention to it.

The voice sounds exactly like a dead man! A person who is resting in peace six feet under and couldn’t possibly be here in Skyhaven.

You reach the bus stop and hide under the small covering, the rain pounding against the top, rolling off the sides. You hold your arms to yourself and your teeth clatter on the inside of your mouth. You have to tell yourself to not look at the man beside you.

Stranger danger, after all.

“Why are you ignoring me?” The man asks. It’s just the two of you at the bus stop. The stop’s light flickers, adding to the already ominous feeling that forms deep inside your chest. You hug your arms to your body, providing the only warmth in this cold night. “Oh, I get it. You’re mad at me.”

“I don’t even know who you are!” You retort rather quickly, finally looking up at the man.

You gasp and stumble backward. He quickly reaches for you, his large, warm hands gripping your waist, stabilizing you.

He looks down at you with an irresistible and charming smile. His purple eyes seem to glow under the dim lighting. He wears a black and orange rain jacket, black baseball cap sitting on his head. He cocks his head to the side, gaze drifting to memorize your face.

Nausea sweeps over your body. You tear your gaze off of the phantom before you. The cold air pricks the inside of your lungs, rapidly moving in and out of your system.

This can’t be real, right? He cannot possibly be standing in front of you, alive and well, with that damn smile on his face. A single tear rolls down your cheek, your lips parted. Your breath flows out of your mouth in gentle plumes of steam.

“Caleb?” Your voice falters. He chuckles, smoothing down your frizzy hair.

“The one and only! C’mon, you can say it: you missed me!”

You reach out, grabbing his arms, squeezing him. His brows furrow, eyes training themselves on your hands as you poke and prod various parts of his body. You grab his cheeks, pulling on them before squishing his face. He gently takes your hands into his, moving your hands away from his face.

“You done yet?”

“You’re alive!”

“I am well aware of that, yes.” His laugh fills your ears and your heart swells.

Even after all these years of forgetting Caleb, you still end up swooning for him the moment he saves you from Landon.

Or was it David? Eh. It doesn’t really matter.

“How…what…” you stammer, unable to form a cohesive and coherent sentence. Caleb sighs and takes your hand. He flattens your palm against his chest.

How heartbeat is slow and steady…it’s there. You gasp, bottom lip trembling, legs slowly becoming jelly.

Tears freely flow down your face as the realization of his existence sets in.

He’s alive.

He’s here.

He’s breathing.

His last memory of you isn’t you ending your friendship and avoiding him for the rest of your senior year of high school.

You collapse to your knees, hand digging into your chest. A sharp pain slices into your chest as your fingernails dig into your skin in an attempt to grab your heart and to scream at it to calm down. The pounds from your heart makes your ears ring, drowning out the endless pitter patter of rain. Even your lungs feel as if they are on fire, unable to suck in and inhale the oxygen that you need to survive.

Your eyes open and Caleb’s face is right in front of yours. You can hear him speak but cannot make out a single word that he says. He gently helps you back to your feet.

“Take it easy,” his words seep through the sound of your heartbeat, “breathe.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck, warming your body, and his thumb gently grazes the side of your neck. You inhale through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling until all of the air is out of your lungs.

“Does she know?” the question pops out of your mouth before you can stop it.

How could you even ask that at a time like this? You should be seeing if he’s okay! If he’s in any sort of trouble that you can help get him out of.

Did he fake his death? Has he been alive this whole time? When was he going to come see you?

Caleb sharply inhales through gritted teeth, pulling away from your face. You watch him closely, bottom lip trembling.

You know. You know the answer.

Of course she knew before you! She is his beloved, the one person he will spend the rest of his life with. It’s laughable to even think that you stood a chance against her.

“Actually,” you interrupt him, covering his mouth, “don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.” Even though every fiber of your being screamed blood murder at you to figure it out.

Is he dating her? Has he ditched her for good? HAs Caleb finally come to the realization that she isn’t some angel that came down from the heavens.

His purple eyes blink at you, perplexed by your actions. Caleb speaks into your hand but his voice is a mere muffle. You sigh and look out at the pouring rain.

You need to get home.

You need to get home and get away from him.

You need to relieve yourself of any memory, item, or scent that can remind you of him because, well, he clearly isn’t yours to have.

If you stay any longer, you’re going to end up crying in the rain, unloading all of your emotions onto him. And Caleb, who has risen from dead, doesn’t deserve to hear any of it. He’s innocent in all of this and no matter how angry and resentful you can feel towards him, you’ll never be able to hold it against him.

“Get home safe, Caleb,” you breathe the words out, slowly releasing your hand from his mouth.

You push away from him and bare the thundering rain on your own, hugging your jacket to your body. You sprint across the street, desperately needing to get away from him.

Caleb watches you with wide eyes, captivated by the woman you’ve become.

You’ve lost all the baby fat in your cheeks. Your hair is longer and is styled to perfection.

You’re bolder. Funnier, even, whether it’s intentional or not. Caleb laughed at your jokes in the cafe, particularly the ones that George didn’t find funny.

Whatever. He’s an idiot.

He heard your laugh from inside the cafe and got drunk off of it. He found himself smiling wider than he has before in the past year.

You took his mind off of his stressful job, which he just came back from, and relaxed his body. He didn’t think about how ling he stayed in that damned tunnel nor did he think about his connections with Ever.

Your laugh turned off the fight or flight switch that perpetually stayed on inside his head. It did pain him, though, to know that you were out with other guys. This George fellow is not your match. He’s a Sul-indulgent prick who only talks about himself.

And what the fuck is a video game consultant anyways?

His job is nothing compared to being a Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. You’ll surely be impressed with that.

You did always say you loved a man in a uniform.

His purple eyes flicker with excitement. He steps out into the rain and follows in your exact footsteps. Once he’s across the street, he turns around and stares at the cafe you two once sat in.

She walks out with her friends, umbrellas covering their heads. They smile and laugh with one another, teasing as thunder booms in the background. He chuckles at their umbrellas but his smile quickly fades when he realizes that you didn’t have one.

Silly girl. Now he has to check in on you and make for sure that you don’t catch a cold.

His gaze drifts to her but the spark he once felt isn’t there anymore. She’s…boring now. Caleb tilts his head back and laughs.

How could he have been so blind?

His focus has been on her all along but you…you are something else.

Captivating. Intoxicating. Enchanting. Hilarious. Fascinating.

Your fruity perfume formed a tent in his pants. Have you always smelled like apples and cinnamon? You encapsulate an autumn evening. Suddenly, he loves it when the leaves change colors and fall from the trees. He’ll never let you fall ever again.

Caleb doesn’t know how he let you slip through his fingers so many times. You live in Skyhaven, too, right under his nose. He should have found you sooner.

He should have gone with you to the homecoming dance. He regrets not watching you during the countless games you’ve invited him to. He should have closed the door in her face when she petered you two when you needed to study for the math exam. It was never your best subject. Lucky, he excelled in it.

And he should have fucking gone after you when you told him to fuck off all those years ago.

But now?

Now Caleb’s going to take back the time he missed out on. Surely, you’d feel the same way when he comes back? After all, he does know where you live now.

Six floors up. The fourth room from the left. You have a stained glass butterfly hanging in your window. He’ll see it up close soon enough.

He stands outside your apartment building with a bright smile on his face, staring up at your bedroom. He can see you move throughout the living room, your shadow painted against the far wall. His eyes follow as you slip into your bedroom. You look out the window.

What are you looking at? I’m here. Show me anything. Give me the signal I need to come and save you.

You turn on a lamp. The light points up to the butterfly, illuminating the blue and orange colors from the glass.

You’re so thoughtful.

How did you know those are his favorite colors?

Caleb chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His feet carry him to the entrance of your apartment building, just barely sneaking in as a couple leaves. He thanks them and sneaks to an elevator, stepping inside as he presses the button to your floor.

Thank you for the signal, he thinks to himself, I’ll be there soon.

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#caleb x reader #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x non!mc reader #love and deepspace #lads caleb #rcvcgers writings #lads angst #caleb angst #caleb lads angst #rotten apples ❦︎

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hockeyluvrr · 2 months ago

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I know love || lh43

series masterlist main masterlist

summary: Luke Hughes has always been your best friend—until one summer at the lake house changes everything. One almost-kiss, one broken moment, and suddenly, there’s a distance between you that even time can’t fix. But when Luke starts his first NHL season, fate gives you one last chance to get it right. Will you finally close the space between you, or are some love stories meant to stay unfinished?

warnings: miscommunication, pining, feelings of regret and all that jazz, eventual fluff though but mostly angsty

author’s note: I actually love this one, it combines two of my fav versions of lukey…UMich lukey and summer lukey 😩 also I truly believe this song is so luke coded but it might just be because I’m in love with him or something idk 😭

word count: 2,422

There was something about Luke Hughes that made it impossible to stay away. Maybe it was the way he always found you in a crowded room, his eyes lighting up when they met yours. Or the way he’d throw an arm around your shoulders after a long day, acting like it was second nature. Whatever it was, it made it difficult to ignore the tiny ache in your chest whenever he smiled at you.

You met Luke your freshman year at UMich. The introduction had been casual—one of your friends dragged you to a party, and somehow, you ended up in the kitchen, laughing over how awful the beer tasted. Luke, dressed in his usual hoodie and backwards cap, leaned against the counter and smirked.

“Not a fan of cheap beer?”

“Not a fan of beer in general,” you admitted.

He handed you a bottle of water instead, and that was the first night he really looked at you—like he saw you, not just another face in a room full of people.

Over time, it became something more. Late-night study sessions in the library turned into coffee runs before morning classes. Game nights at his apartment turned into movie marathons where you both ended up asleep on opposite sides of the couch. He was one of your best friends, the person who could read you without you saying a word.

And maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

Because no matter how much time you spent with Luke, there was always space between you. Just enough to keep you at arm’s length.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was everything.

———

The campus was buzzing with excitement—UMich was heading to the Frozen Four, and Luke was at the center of it all. He was always the last one off the ice at practice, the first one in the locker room watching film. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of expectations pressing down on his shoulders.

“You should sleep,” you murmured one night as he sat beside you in his apartment, head resting on the back of the couch.

“Can’t,” he muttered. “Too much going on in my head.”

You hesitated before reaching out, fingers lightly brushing his wrist. “You’ll be okay, you know. No matter what happens.”

Luke turned his head to look at you, something unreadable flickering across his face. For a second, it felt like the space between you was closing, like he was seeing you in a way he hadn’t before.

But then his phone buzzed, and whatever moment that had been disappeared.

“Jack’s calling,” he said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “I should take this.”

You nodded, swallowing the disappointment curling in your chest. “Yeah. Of course.”

It wasn’t the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last.

———

Summer at the Hughes’ lake house was supposed to be easy. Sun-soaked days, late-night bonfires, early morning swims when the world still felt half-asleep. It was a tradition—Luke, his brothers, and a revolving door of friends who came and went, all drawn to the water like it was calling them home.

This year, you were part of it.

You had barely stepped out of the car when Luke pulled you into a hug, arms tight around you like it had been months instead of weeks since you last saw him. The feeling of him—warm and familiar—lingered even after he let go.

“Missed you,” he admitted, his voice soft enough that no one else would hear.

Your stomach flipped, but you forced a smile. “Missed you too, Hughes.”

For a while, it was easy to pretend nothing had changed. Mornings were spent on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge as Luke sat beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Afternoons were filled with boat rides and half-hearted attempts at wakeboarding that usually ended with someone face-planting into the water. And at night, when the air was thick with the scent of bonfire smoke, you and Luke always ended up next to each other—knees bumping, fingers almost touching.

But that space between you? It was still there.

And then, one night, it wasn’t.

———

It started with a game of truth or dare.

The group was sprawled across the deck, a mix of empty bottles and half-eaten bags of chips between them. The game had been harmless at first—stupid questions, ridiculous dares. But then Jack’s girlfriend grinned and turned to you.

“Alright,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Truth or dare?”

You hesitated, feeling Luke’s gaze on you. “Dare.”

Her smile widened. “Kiss someone.”

The group erupted into cheers, and your stomach twisted. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, your mind racing through your options. There were a dozen ways out of this—you could laugh it off, could kiss someone random and be done with it.

But then you looked at Luke.

And Luke looked at you.

The world narrowed to the space between you, to the way his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you leaned in, the air thick with something unspoken.

Your breath mingled with his. His hand twitched like he was going to reach for you.

But then—

“Look, a shooting star!” Jack announced, breaking the moment like a snapped thread. The group all turned to look up at the sky, and just like that, the moment was gone.

Luke pushed himself up, muttering something about getting another drink before disappearing into the house.

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you curled them into fists.

It was almost something.

Almost.

And that was the worst part.

———

After that night, something shifted.

Luke wasn’t avoiding you, not exactly. He still sat next to you at breakfast, still threw you into the lake when you least expected it, still nudged your foot under the dinner table when Jack was telling some ridiculous story. But there was hesitation in the way he looked at you now, a flicker of something unsure that hadn’t been there before.

And you? You felt like you were walking a tightrope, balancing between pretending nothing had changed and wanting to grab him by the shoulders and demand to know what the hell that moment had meant to him.

But you didn’t. Because if Luke wasn’t saying anything, why should you?

That was the problem with the two of you. You were always waiting for the other person to make the first move.

And then, one night, you stopped waiting.

The bonfire was dying down, most of the group already slipping inside for the night. You lingered on the dock, the cool wood beneath you grounding you as you stared out at the dark water.

Luke found you like he always did.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, sitting beside you.

You huffed out a laugh. “Something like that.”

Silence stretched between you. Not uncomfortable, but not easy either. The weight of everything unspoken sat between you, thick as the humid summer air.

“About that night—”

Luke started speaking at the same time you did, and you both broke off, staring at each other. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“You first,” he said.

You swallowed, your pulse roaring in your ears. “Did it mean anything to you?”

The question hung between you, heavy and dangerous.

Luke inhaled sharply. “Of course it did.”

“Then why did you leave?”

His jaw tensed. “Because, I—” He exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair. “Because I didn’t want to ruin anything.”

You blinked. “Ruin what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “Us.”

Anger flared in your chest. “Luke, do you even hear yourself? You think avoiding how we feel is going to fix anything?”

His brows furrowed. “How we feel?”

And that was it. That was the breaking point.

You stood, your hands clenched into fists. “I like you, Luke. I’ve liked you for so long, and I’m so tired of pretending I don’t. But if you don’t feel the same way, just—just tell me. Stop leaving me in this space between nothing and everything.”

Luke looked stunned. Like he hadn’t realised it was that simple.

Like he hadn’t realised how much this had been breaking you.

You shook your head, turning away. “Forget it.”

You didn’t give him the chance to respond. You just walked away.

And for the first time since you met Luke Hughes, he didn’t follow you.

———

The rest of the summer passed in a blur. You and Luke barely spoke.

It wasn’t like he was ignoring you outright—he was still there in the periphery, still laughing at Jack’s jokes, still competing against Quinn and the guys in wakeboarding. But he wasn’t there with you. Not the way he used to be.

And you? You didn’t know how to fix it.

You thought maybe he’d pull you aside before you left, maybe say something—anything—to make sense of what happened that night on the dock. But when the time came to go, Luke just hugged you the way he did everyone else, murmured a soft ‘see you later’, and let you walk away.

No mention of the fight. No apology. No confession.

Just silence.

And maybe that was your answer.

———

Luke was officially in the NHL.

You saw the news everywhere—on social media, on sports channels, in the excited texts from your friends. He was doing it. Living his dream.

And you were proud of him. You really were.

But you hadn’t talked since that night at the lake. Not even once.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about reaching out. You had typed out messages more times than you could count—‘Hey, congrats, Hope you’re doing well, I miss you’—but you never sent them.

If he wanted to talk to you, he would.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

———

It was Jack who invited you.

You weren’t sure why—maybe he missed having you around, maybe he just wanted you to stop looking like someone had ripped out a piece of your heart and run off with it. Either way, he sent a simple ‘Come to the game. No excuses.’ text, and somehow, you found yourself in the arena, watching Luke skate across the ice like he belonged there.

He looked good. Happy. Like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

And maybe that should have been enough for you.

But then, after the game, Jack pulled you through the halls of the arena, past reporters and players until he stopped in front of a door.

“He’s in there,” Jack said, giving you a pointed look. “Fix it.”

You barely had time to process what was happening before Jack knocked once and walked off, leaving you standing there as the door swung open.

And there he was.

Luke.

His hair was damp, his tie loose around his neck, his eyes widening the second he saw you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then, his voice came, quiet but certain.

“You came.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Jack kind of forced me.”

His lips twitched, like he wanted to smile but didn’t know if he was allowed to. “Still. You’re here.”

You nodded, shifting on your feet. “Yeah.”

Silence. The same silence that had sat between you for months.

And then—

“I was scared.”

Your breath caught as Luke exhaled shakily, his hands clenching at his sides.

“I didn’t know what to say that night,” he admitted. “Didn’t know how to tell you that I—I felt the same way. That I have for so long.” His throat bobbed. “And then you walked away, and I let you, and I hated myself for it.”

Your heart pounded. “Luke…”

“I thought maybe it was too late,” he murmured. “That I lost you before I even got the chance to have you.”

You inhaled sharply. “It’s not too late.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, like he was finally seeing what had been right in front of him all along.

And this time—this time—he closed the space between you.

Luke’s hands hovered uncertainly before settling on your waist, his touch warm even through the fabric of your coat. His eyes flickered across your face, searching, waiting—like he needed you to give him permission to finally, finally close the space between you.

So you did.

You surged forward, hands fisting in his jacket as his lips met yours.

And just like that, every unspoken word, every moment of hesitation, every aching second of being apart melted away.

Luke kissed you like he was making up for lost time—like he regretted every second he spent pretending he didn’t want this. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and you sighed against his lips, letting yourself fall into him.

When you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago,” he murmured.

You huffed out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. You should have.”

His grip on you tightened slightly. “Let me fix it,” he whispered. “Let me be what you deserve.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, really look at him. His eyes were so open, so full of everything he had been too afraid to say before. And for the first time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. Just Luke. Just you.

And this time, you weren’t letting him go.

———

Luke didn’t waste any more time.

He called you after games, sent you random texts about things that reminded him of you, FaceTimed you when he got back to his apartment just because he wanted to see your face.

And then, one day, he called you with a simple request:

“Come visit me.”

So you did.

New Jersey in the winter was cold, but Luke’s apartment was warm, and his arms around you were even warmer. The second you stepped inside, he pulled you into him, mumbling a soft, ‘missed you’ against your hair.

You smiled. “I was gone for like a month.”

“Too long.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled in your chest.

Luke had always been a constant in your life—your best friend, your safe place, your almost. But now?

Now, there was no more almost.

Just love. Real, undeniable, steady love.

And it was everything you had ever wanted.

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haikyu-mp4 · 6 months ago

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High school sweethearts

“Did you hear about aone? I heard that he started dating that one popular girl! But you didn't hear that from me!!” – @sharkissm for my Gossip Event.

word count; 686 – f!reader

Aone did an uncharacteristic double take the first time it happened, the first time you came to one of his games and cheered for him after a successful block. You were of another world to him, so perfect in the way you were not only beautiful but also so kind and charismatic. People wanted to be around you, unlike Aone who always sat alone on the train.

So he also couldn’t believe it when you sat down beside him on the train one day, smiling so kindly and asking him if the seat was free. He nodded silently, gulping and fumbling with his fingers as you sat down. Your knee knocked into his and he almost felt like blushing. You’re just so cool.

“I watched your game the other day, it was awesome!” you gushed, flipping out your phone and showing him a video you had taken of him blocking the last point, then the camera turned to your face as you screamed in cheers for your school’s team. If he heard correctly, you even yelled his name in particular. “I would be so scared to break my fingers or something if I blocked like that.” As you said this, you held a hand out, showing off your perfect gel nails.

Aone admired them, making a sound of approval at the cool design in the school’s colours. “They are very pretty, breaking them or your fingers would be a shame.” It was said as a clear statement, and his deep voice made your eyes widen.

“Thank you,” you said softly at the compliment, eyes glittering. Surely, his eyes were betraying him because it looked like you were blushing too. “My nail artist is great…” And then you spent the rest of the train ride telling him about anything that came to mind, about your nails and your schoolwork and him.

A few days later, Futakuchi let out the biggest huh when you came to the gym doors and asked for Aone. “Class project?” he asked, somewhat protective of the big friendly giant.

“No,” you answered simply, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him as a playful challenge. “So? Can I talk to him?”

“We have to practise, princess-“ Futakuchi started, holding up his finger, only to be interrupted by a shadow behind him.

“I can take a short break.”

The captain turned around slowly to see his best friend, scrunching his nose trying to think of something to say before slumping his shoulders in defeat and stomping off. “Five minutes.”

You looked at Aone, the sparkle back in your eyes that he still couldn’t believe had anything to do with him. “Sorry. What did you need?”

Licking your lips and tucking some hair behind your ear, you asked him if he was free after practice, earning you a quick yes from Aone and a distant complaint from Koganegawa about team-building activities.

That evening you spent talking over your instant ramen cups in the closest konbibi became your first date.

And a first date eventually turned into dating.

Aone’s cheering squad was the loudest for every game, and you lavishly spoiled him with attention and care that made him feel like he was soft, not just big and scary.

In return, he gave you comfort and always listened. Whether it was seemingly meaningless yapping or serious conversations about life’s many trials, he was always there for you.

A power couple, one must admit.

Even Futakuchi admitted it after you got the principal to make all the arrangements for when they got to nationals in their third year, also making sure every student who could go, came to cheer for the Iron Wall.

And as Aone looked up at you in the stands, you cheered just as loudly as you did the first time he caught your eye, and you looked just as gorgeous to him no matter what happened. Even at night, all makeup off and bawling your eyes out over a sappy movie with toilet paper stuck in your nose to stop it from running.

Always his beautiful girlfriend, who just happened to be very popular.

masterlist

#The Gossip Event #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #fanfiction #hq #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #aone fluff #aone #aone takanobu x reader #takanobu aone #aone x reader #haikyuu aone #hq aone #aone takanobu

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fawnnlvr · 13 days ago

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IMAGINE THIS spencer reid x academicrival!reader

summary: a timeline of spencer reid and his academic rival turned girlfriend in the span of a twelve years.

author's note: this layout is so different from my others but i am just going to keep it up. this is also inspired by the big bang theory and young sheldon and all the clips of it i watched on tiktok because i did not watch the show. that one scene with sheldon and that little blonde girl who is in every show and movie as a child prodigy. i hope you guys now what i am talking about but that inspired this entire thing. ♥︎

the two of you were born child prodigies with incredible minds that had the powers to rule the world.

spencer was used to being the youngest and the smartest until you showed up in his college classes being just a few months younger than him, yet sharing the same space he inhabited.

your joyful personality irked him to no ends as you treated education and learning like it was just a hobby while it was his life. he wasn't sure how it started but the two of you, at age thirteen, were competing to be the top of the class.

all the other college students simply gave up when it came to trying to outdo the two of you. the two of you were front row and center at every lecture due to the heights and late growth spurts.

unfortunately, the two of you were in many of the same classes despite being different majors. as the years flew by, the rivalry only grew stronger as the two of you competed by peer review when the professors grew tired of choosing favorites. who can write the best report paper to whose research was more useful, even to who had the best coffee order— everything under the sun was competition.

"i decided to get a doctorate" spencer told you one day and you almost dropped your papers, "just so everytime we meet, you will have to refer to me as doctor."

"no chance in hell reid. if you're doing that then so am i. suck it." you told him with a strong fire of determination in your eyes. the two of you were seventeen.

at age eighteen is when things took a turn. spencer had temporarily left to visit his mom in las vegas and get her help, and you unfortunately tagged along because you couldn't do airplanes but needed to get to vegas to visit your sister. meeting at the airport and unfortunately getting assigned seats right by each other, new perspectives were unlocked.

despite gaining an understanding for one another due to all the changes occurring, one thing that stayed constant was the rivalry. in a way, this one constant was a thing that saved the both of you.

you both knew that you were adults and it was childish, but you basically grew up with one another. he was there for you when you were harassed by college frat boys when you turned of age and you were there when he was ridiculed by the same frat boys for being a scrawny nerd.

there were many encounters were you only had each other to lean on and despite claiming to hate each other, you and him always showed up when needed. something that no one else can claim in their involvement in your lives.

now the two of you were there for each other as you each started another chapter of life.

"fbi?" you laughed, "there is no way you are passing the physical tests, spencer." the two of you were now twenty one and both went by doctor.

"h-hey! i can do it. the training will last for 16 weeks. i can improve by then." he puffed his chest out, straightening his posture.

"it will take a miracle or many exceptions, all of which you would need to be extraordinary to get."

"i am extraordinary. i quite literally have a doctorate in chemistry and working on another one — and i have a bachelor's in psychology. all at the age of twenty-one. i would like the see the fbi find someone better than me."

"you're forgetting that i exist." you reminded with a sly smile and you saw him freeze.

"i thought you're aiming for nasa!"

"i am but i might just have to apply for the fbi academy to prove just how much better than you i am." you shrugged and spencer felt even more determined.

"don't even joke about it. i have had to see you on this campus for the past nine years, i might loose my mind if i have to deal with you again for the rest of my life."

"how hurtful." you huffed, crossing your arms as you sipped on your overpriced coffee that you made spencer pay for. "i don't want to see you more than i have to as well." a bit ironic since you were on a small coffee get together with him.

"glad we can agree to something." he stated, taking a sip of his overpriced coffee as well.

"well since we are already at it. do you think we can agree that this meal definitely deserves a slice of that strawberry shortcake—"

at twenty two, it was finally time for the two of you to say goodbye. at least that is what you both thought. spencer was going to the fbi academy at quantico, virginia and you had suddenly gotten a job offer at the nasa headquarters in washington d.c, virginia.

"nineteen dollars for two coffees." he interupted and you closed your mouth. broke people should never talk, as that one saying went that spencer made up the last time he was forced to pay ridiculous priced food.

a dramatic goodbye, turned into a twisted fate of ill-fortune. your letter had came in the day spencer was to leave and a dramatic departure speech unsued for a good ten minutes full of the sweetest things spencer and you wanted to get off your chest before this was goodbye.

you opened the letter before he did his entire goodbye speech and you didn't feel like interrupting him. once you revealed the truth, spencer went all red and felt like fainting but instead had opted to grab his luggage and walk out the door and try to flag down a cab.

it was hard to stop yourself laughter after the small giggle slipped out due to how red he got and you had to chase him down your apartment building. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, averting his vision to the clouds above. taking your hand, you grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you.

"spencer, please don't be mad. that was honestly the sweetest thing you — actually anyone, in thst matter has said to me."

"no— it wasn't supposed to be like this. it was supposed to end—"

"i don't want it to end." you told him, honesty clear in your voice as he finally had the courage to look at you in the eye, "i like us— i mean this. what we have now is something i truly cherish and i don't want that to vanish. i don't want to be apart from you."

spencer furrowed his eyebrows.

"for too long i mean!" you quickly added in, "i mean gosh ew, nerd. you will have fbi money soon so that means it will be in my best interest to keep you around—"

you couldn't continue your tangent because he had pulled you into a hug. yes, the germaphobe spencer had pulled you into a hug. this was the first hug he ever initiated and it was the first time you had noticed simply how gentle his touch was as he held you in his arms. you wrapped your arms around his chest without a second thought.

then a sniffle. spencer sort of flinched back, trying to pull away but you clasped your hands behind his back, making it impossible. "are you... crying?"

another sniffle. "no." the croak in your voice gave it away, "allergies."

"you little liar. you totally will miss me and that's why your accepting the position in virginia and not california where your favorite actors are."

"shut up spencer."

"you'll see me in five months. it'll be fine and when i become an agent and i get my first pay check, we can go to that seafood place you really wanted to go but only has a few locations nationwide."

"they have it in virginia?"

"i already checked." he admitted and you raised your head from his shirt to look up at him, teary eyed but your eyes held a skeptical look. then, a smile.

"you were already planning for me to be there weren't you."

spencer pushed you off of him and he didn't respond.

"you know doctor reid, if i didn't know any better i would say that you are deeply in love with me."

"in your dreams. bye liar." spencer waved down a cab who pulled up within seconds.

"see you at the captial." you cheekily stated, hands clasped behind your back as you smiled at spencer getting into the cab.

"not looking forward to it."

"liar!"

he shut the door.

at twenty three, the two of you somehow ended up being roommates and sharing an apartment together. weighing the pros and cons, you both decided that this act would be very beneficial since the rent would be cheaper, the location was in between both of your guys' work places, and it would be more comfortable to live with a familiar presence.

at twenty four, a drunken night had led to drunken kisses. as the saying goes, "drunken words are sober thoughts". thoughts of consequences were thrown out the window as soon as the clothes were thrown on the floor. waking up, the two of you screamed in horror before having a talk about all the unresolved tension and words that needed to be said that one day the two of you were exchanging goodbye messages.

finally at twenty six, you went by mrs. reid.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #fawnnlvr writes

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angel-writes-skz-here · 11 days ago

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Seduction

Prof! Minho x Student! Reader Synopsis: Moving to Korea for higher education comes with its perks. But what happens when you play a game of seduction with your new Professor? Will he crack? Or is he just too cold? Warnings: SMUT, protected p in v, dom LK, a little name calling, drinking, mentions of smoking devils lettuce. A/N: I hope you guys like this! Not sure how long it'll be. I apologize if I'm slow getting stuff out this week. Please comment if you want to be tagged. I appreciate the love and support and if Lee Know is ooc plz let me know. I did my best with it, though. Next Chapter

You pass through the crowd, sweaty drunk bodies colliding and brushing up against you as you make your way to the bar. It was the last night of summer vacation before your first day of university. Transferring from the states was a huge deal, your parents couldn’t be prouder, and you knew this wasn’t the normal college experience where you could goof off and mommy and daddy would pay for your next round of the same classes, so you used the summer to blow off steam.

Parties, drunken one-night stands, even dabbling in smoking weed a few times just to give it a shot. To take the rebellion in your veins and express it before it was time to buckle down.

That’s why you’re at the club tonight, trying to maybe meet a friend, granted it was hard moving to a new country where the language was less than ideal to learn, let alone in three months. You also left a broken-hearted boy at home, who swore that the minute you came back your relationship would resume. You agreed to that, thinking that you would miss him a hell of a lot more than you do.

At the bar you order another drink, the alcohol causing you to sway every so slightly, as you sip on it, you bump into a handsome stranger. He’s slightly taller than you, his eyes dark and brooding, mouth formed into a tight line, slightly muscular and somewhat intimidating.

“Sorry,” you giggle. He looks you up and down, a blush blooming on your cheeks. His features are striking even in the dark lightening. It causes your heart rate to climb.

“Hmm,” he purses his lips and turns his attention back to his friends. He's cute, so you decide to go for it. You tap his shoulder, noticing how he tenses under your touch. He turns around with a quirked brow.

“I’m y/n,” you stick out your hand, tipsy but sober enough to feel the slightly awkward tension.

The stranger rakes his eyes up and down your body, his gaze intense as he almost studies you.

“Minho,” he shakes your hand cautiously.

“Would you like to dance?” you ask batting your eyelashes before wrapping your lips around the straw and sucking up the last bit of your drink. He glances at the dance floor. His better judgment tells him not to, but he’s also noticed you throughout the night, the guys you’d let buy you drinks, the one’s you’ve already danced with and while he would consider himself a slightly humble man, he knew if you walked away you’d dance with someone else, someone that wasn’t as good as him, after all who knew what could happen to such a little pretty thing like yourself if he wasn't protecting you? He was the best option in the whole club that night, or so he told himself, so reluctantly, he downs his drink and takes your hand.

Your breath hitches the way his skin feels against yours, his hand in yours, it feels like fate. Like something out of a movie. It feels like something totally right and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth as he dominantly weaves through the crowd in front of you.

You reach the dance floor and immediately you turn your backside to him, pressing against him as you sway your hips. He watches you methodically. Minho is a smart man, never allowing himself to really give in to too many of his desires, and yet here you are, almost nineteen years old, grinding against his crotch without a care in the world. He didn’t want to touch you, well no he did, but he didn’t want to let himself. You were temptation in skimpy black dress though.

Your eyes, the way the color just mesmerized him, the way your body moved causing him to think of taking you to the bathroom right then and there and showing you what a real man can do for you. The way he wanted to taste your lips and tongue for himself, though he wouldn’t show it; any of it. Truth be told you couldn’t read him.

But when his hands decide to rest on your hips, you feel the electricity course through your veins. The way it draws goosebumps on your skin despite the thick muggy air of the club.

You grin to yourself, feeling as he presses his hips against yours just barely. It’s not long before you notice something else too, feeling him press into the swell of your ass, causing your heartrate to thrum in your ears again. You aren’t sure how long you dance for, time and the music fade into the background as you feel his chest press against your back, his face coming down beside your ear. He’s so close that the world doesn’t feel real, like it’s only the two of you. His breath on your ear driving you wild.

After a while you get the courage up to look at his face, the haze of the night filling your senses but you notice the concentration on his face, like he’s holding himself back. You get a cheeky idea, turning your self around quickly and throwing you arms around his neck. He looks at you almost surprised before quickly masking it with a stoic look.

You grin up at him, barely biting the edge of your lip.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” you wink, “Unless you want me to.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, swaying the both of you to the beat as your noses oh so barely touch, the tiny hairs kissing each other. You can see something primal shift in his eyes, like he can’t do this for much longer.

You raise up, lips brushing his ear.

“Minho,” your voice drips with desire and lust. His grip on your hips tightens as you say his name. You chuckle in his ear.

“You want me,” you utter over the music, tongue then flicking out over the shell of his ear. You can feel him take a deep breath his chest bulging out a little against yours, trying to steady himself; but he's unsteady in your grip.

“Don’t hold back, I’m right here. Ready to be used, ready to please,” you murmur just over the music. You place a kiss just below his ear, teeth grazing his skin. He growls, his cock growing tight in his pants. He rushes you off to the bathroom, pulling you so fast you almost stumble and you have to stifle a giggle. The bathroom is empty, lights bright, humming despite the muffled sound of the music, and Minho shoves you into a stall, connecting your lips to his in a rough, possessive kiss. He tastes of soju, a little bit of beer, and a breath mint he must have put in on the way to the bathroom. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, rough, dominating, and you can feel the little remnant of the mint left in his mouth as his tongue glides over yours, forcing the tiny candy onto your tongue.

You moan into his mouth, his hand coming up around your throat, not to choke, but to hold, possessing you. There’s a mix of teeth, lips, tongue, and ragged breathing from the two of you before his lips move down to your neck, your fingers threading through his hair.

“Fuck you smell so good,” he groans. You chuckle quietly as he sucks a harsh mark on your collar bone.

“Ah, shit,” you playfully giggle with your eyes closed as he lets go. He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbing a condom.

You can feel the pulse between your legs, the dampness to your panties at the thought of him ramming into you. He drops his pants just below his length, ripping the condom open with his teeth as you stare.

He’s huge.

You aren’t sure how it’s gonna fit.

The sight of him alone has your walls clenching. He slides the condom on, forces you to turn around, smushing your right cheek against the door. He hikes your dress up, over your ass, smirks to himself at the slutty lacey underwear you’re wearing before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“Wear these slutty things for me, baby? Hmm? Or did you wear em just so some poor guy would fuck you like the whore you are?”

He pulls your under wear down around your ankles and you whimper against the door, his head teasing your slick folds.

His hand comes down, colliding with your left ass cheek, a yelp following as your eyes close. He shoves his cock in and you groan against the door, walls immediately fluttering causing him to curse under his breath. He doesn’t take it slow, doesn’t wait for you to be ready, he just drills, quick and fast chasing his release and yours.

The door jiggles as he thrusts quickly. Your hands flex at your sides, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes every nerve ending in your body come alive.

Minho notices the way your hands flex.

“Aww, go ahead, touch yourself, show me how you do it when you secretly hope someone’s watching you.” He smirks.

Your hands reach down, despite the redness in your cheeks from both your heartrate and embarrassment. Your rub tight little circles on your clit, your body arching into your hand.

“Mm, so pretty. You follow directions well, fuck you’re so tight.” He grumbles as his breathing becomes ragged. He begins grunting as your hand moves sloppier, your climax close to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you warn as you feel the coil getting too tight to the point of bursting. Minho doesn’t respond, only slams his hips as hard as he can, causing temporary stars in your vision from the pleasure as you wrap around his cock and explode. A loud, pornographic noise leaves you and he comes a few thrusts after.

He leans against your back, catching his breath for a moment. Both of you completely and totally sober now. He pulls out of you, tying up the condom and tossing it in the trash can. Your faces are flushed, and you make a mental note of how cute he looks with his skin a shade of pink and lightly shiny from sweat, the ends of his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you pull your panties up and smooth your dress down.

“Minho huh? I would’ve named you Maxho.” You snicker to yourself, earning a smirk from the man you just met not two hours ago.

You unlock the door to the stall walking out to check out had bad your hair is messed up.

“Thanks,” he mutters sparing you one last glance in the mirror.

“No kiss goodbye? Nothing to remember you by?” You fake pout.

“That hickey should do the trick.” He smirks. You glance in the mirror to see the purple mark.

You smile before turning back to look at yourself in the mirror, beginning to fix your hair, before you feel a pair of hands spin you around and hold you close, lips finding yours in a needy and hot kiss. You rifle your hands through his hair one last time, tongues greeting one another again, before he pulls away and squeezes your ass, only giving you a moment together before leaving the bathroom and your life forever.

The next morning you’re getting ready for school when you notice the purple mark, the tips of your fingers brushing over it as you remember Minho and your encounter. Not many one-night stands have you wishing to see the guy again, but something about Minho, the way he wasn’t intimidated by you, or shy about letting you know who was in control, it lit up a fire in you. One that you couldn’t extinguish.

You chose to wear a cute skirt and top to match, doing light make up before rushing out the door. You go through each class, having to cross campus a few times as some classes were far from the other.

You'd even made a friend, Duri from your math class.

Finally the end of the day comes and you're running from the front of campus all the way to the back to Psych. 101. The bell rings as you step foot in the door. Most seats are taken, except for the ones up front.

The teacher is standing with his back to the class and you slip in the front row, putting you laptop and text book on your desk.

The room is silent except for a few whispers from other students. You feel small compared to the big room. The teacher begins to write his name on the board.

“Professor Lee,” you whisper to yourself.

“Good morning, everyone. I assume you’re all here for Psychology 101.” You take a deep breath. His voice is familiar, where have you heard it before? He’s in dark brown jacket and black slacks, hair is brown and neatly combed.

“I will be your professor this semester, Professor Lee.” He turns around you can’t help the audible gasp that leaves your mouth.

Minho.

Your eyes are wide, body stiff as he scans the room, eyes stopping a little too long on you, not showing any physical signs of recognizing you, but he does. Immediately.

Your eyes follow him, like you’re waiting for something, some kind of special little acknowledgement. However, you get nothing. He collects the papers from his desk and walks up to the front row. Handing out a stack of papers to each area of students, passing the papers along to each other. He comes to you, on the end, and hands you the stack of papers, your eyes meet briefly, but he won’t linger.

“This here, is your syllabus. I emailed one to each of you but just in case you have a paper copy as well. It has our lesson topics for the year,” he sets the stack down on the table, despite your hand being out for him to hand them to you, his eyes scanning the rows behind you. You furrow your brow slightly, but purse your lips and listen to his sweet voice.

“It has the classroom supplies on here. Things that should be common knowledge like your laptop and textbook. There will be no sleeping in my class, there will be no cheating, if you are caught cheating, I will automatically fail you and you will be forced to retake the class.” He explains.

“The door to my room will lock at 1 pm sharp. If you are late, you will miss class for the day. Do not email me for notes, you must get them from someone else or simply do without them.” He walks back over to his desk.

He spends a few minutes on the syllabus, then talking about the Milgram’s experiment in detail, already having his class takes notes.

“So Milgram wanted to know how far people would go to obey authority. He had people administer what they believed to be electric shocks to those who gave incorrect answers on a test. Many people continued administering the shocks despite the pleas and cries of the person being shocked, simply because they were told to. Proving how powerful authority really can be in someone’s mind.” He finishes as the bell rings, signifying the end of your class.

You take a deep breath, saving your notes on your lap top, slowly packing up, eyes flitting to Minho as he walks over to his desk not looking up.

Minho can feel it, the way you’re staring at him. The way your eyes watch his every move, but things are different now. You’re his student.

Just. His student.

You wait until the room is empty, finally slipping your laptop into your bag.

“So, Professor Maxho, we meet again.” You smirk and Minho glances up from his desk.

“Ms. Y/l/n, if you wish to speak with me about class work my office hours are Monday, Wednesday and Friday, 3 pm to 5 pm. I am very busy and you have other classes to attend.”

“It’s the first day Professor fussy pants. Besides you're my last class of the day. Maybe I want to get to know my new teacher,” you sing. He keeps his breathing even, shoulders slightly rising and falling. His jaw tight.

“You will refer to me as Professor Lee, nothing else, do you understand?” He snaps.

You walk around the desk, resting your lower back against the edge, the close proximity causing him to face you.

“Yes sir,” you tug on your lip.

“That hickey you gave me-,” you go to move your top to display it, but his voice stops you.

“Ms. Y/l/n,” he breathes.

“You are to reach out to me for class work, and class work only. Whatever you do on your own time off campus is none of my business." He says, jaw clenching.

“It was last night,” you mumble and he stands up, walking closer to you, you’re heart jumping in your chest. He’s only slightly taller than you, but his gaze is enough to make it feel like your significantly smaller. You're caged between him and the desk.

“That was a one-time thing. You are my student now, you and I will remain professional. I refuse to lose my job and my reputation due to a frivolous one night stand,” he bellows quietly. You look between eyes.

Cold.

Serious.

Unwavering.

You purse your lips as you bounce yourself off his desk causing him to back up a little.

“Yes, Professor Lee.” You mock respect and turn to walk away, a smirk on your face as your hips sway dramatically. Minho watches for a moment before tearing himself away.

Challenge accepted.

Tags: @breakmeoff @thelovelybireader @crystal005

Do not repost my work

Love notes and comments are greatly appreciated!

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sturncakez · 1 year ago

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ෆ

contains: bsf!chris, plot, smut, oral (fem receiving), n fingering.

reader discretion is advised.

christopher owen sturniolo. your bestfriend, but also the love of your life.

you’ve known him and his brothers matt, nick, and justin ever since you were little.

your father and jimmy have been extremely close since they grew up with each other, and of course passing the tradition along, they wanted their children to do the same. despite you being an only child.

you loved all of the boys equally, of course. but you seemed to gravitate towards chris. growing up you couldn’t tell why, but as you got older it seemed to be more obvious. i mean, look at the boy. he’s perfection.

there were so many reasons why you used this word to describe him. but you couldn’t even wrap your finger around just one.

was it the way his beautiful blue eyes shined in the summertime? or was it the way he was so calm and caring, only when it came down to you? perhaps it was the way you guys treated each other, almost like you guys were soulmates, but with no real feelings attached.

you can go on and on about him. his soft and dark locks that seemed to shine with no effort, his listening skills, eye contact that could and always easily melted your heart away, the way it felt like you guys could talk for ages for hours, or even days. in your eyes he had zero flaws, and as you got older, you realized you were in love with your bestfriend.

ྀིྀི

you’re seventeen now. junior in highschool. you peaked quite early to say the least. you’ve had confidence ever since you were young, but as the years went by it’s gotten better and better.

what type of person would chris be to not notice that? he was your “bestfriend” of course.

you had your own sense of taste and style, and your personality wasn’t like the rest. the last thing you would want to do was fit in with any girl at somerville.

little did you know that this is what made chris fall inlove with you. but you being oblivious, you payed no mind to that. thinking that there was no way in hell that your best friend of 15 years would ever feel the same.

one thing you really liked about yourself was your music taste. you had at least 6 favorite artists, but the neighbourhood being your absolute fave. you listened to them all the time. getting ready, in your car, during class, whenever.

one of your favorite songs by the band was softcore. it was your comfort song growing up, and you felt like you could relate to some of the lyrics given the situation with you and chris.

‘..you’ve been my muse for a long time

you get me through every dark night..

i’m always gone, out on the go

i’m on the run and you’re home alone..’

the lyrics touched you physically when you listened to that song for the first time. it was true. chris was your muse. he did get you through every single dark night. when your parents were fighting almost every single night as a kid, or that time they were so focused on your grades instead of your mental health. you were way too young for all of that to happen to you. chris was the one that got you through all that. no one else. it’s almost like if you didn’t have him you would break.

another reason why you felt so touched by those lyrics is because you were almost always out of the house.

it was an escape from reality for you. whether it was walks in the park, going to parties, or sneaking out. chris on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

ྀིྀི

it was friday, but today was different. you weren’t in the mood for anything today. every few months your body gave out from all of the constant going out you would do. you decided maybe tonight was the night you would be an average teen girl and just stay home and watch movies. you were pretty tired anyway.

you decided to just binge watch 2000’s movies and fall asleep watching baylen levine. those plans seemed to be interrupted though, as you heard a ‘ding’ noise coming from your phone.

confused, because your phone always seemed to be on do not disturb, you checked to see who it was. forgetting that there was only one person that you allowed yourself to get notifications from.

it was chris.

chris: Hey

Was just wondering if you wanted to come over, nick n matt are gone for a bit and i’m pretty bored 😭

If not it’s fine tho

your heart began to pound in your chest as you stayed staring at the message. realizing you had your read receipts on you immediately jumped back into reality and began typing away a reply.

should you say yes? or should you say no? you told yourself you wouldn’t let your crush change anything between you guys but something felt different today..

a feeling lurking inside of you telling you that you couldn’t hold it back.

you started to type away.

you: ofc i’d loved to come over

just give me like 10 mins to get ready

chris: Alr np, just text me when you’re otw

you received a sick feeling in your stomach getting that last text. nonetheless, you got up out of your bed and began getting ready.

you threw on a cropped white tee and comfy sweatpants. it didn’t really matter what you wore around chris, and you didn’t think much of what he thought either. because of this you decided to not throw on a bra thinking it wouldn’t matter, but oh were you wrong.

after throwing on your outift and popping your gold hoops and remaining jewelry in, you put your hair in a low half up, got your belongings, and headed out while texting him you were on the way.

it wasn’t that far of a drive to chris’s, his house only being a few blocks away. you parked in the driveway and contemplated going in.

ྀིྀི

finally, you knocked. letting him know of your arrival.

you could hear his footsteps on the other end of the door, and the clicks and clacks of him unlocking it.

“heyyy! i missed you kid!” he exclaimed joyfully, pulling you into an embrace.

“i missed you too, chris! how have you been?” you replied back, feeling as safe as a baby in their mothers arms with him.

“bored outta my mind honestly man. nick and matt have been out for hours, and fortnite was started to get boring believe it or not.” chris said back as he pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you.

“surprised to hear that coming from you chris. so was hanging with best friend of fifteen years a last resort or what?” you said in a playful tone while taking off your shoes.

“kinda didn’t wanna bother you ‘cause i thought you had better things to do” chris replied.

you chuckled and looked up at him. “okay so what now?”

chris sighs. “movie?” he says with a cheesy smile on his face.

“gosh you know me so well” you respond back to him.

“kid i’ve known you since we were 2, ‘course i do.”

silence lingers in the air for a while as you both just stare at each other. a smile starts to creep up chris’s face as he full on lunges towards you and picks up right off of the ground as if you weighed nothing. you squeal “CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK PUT ME DOWN!” as he begins running up the stairs to his bedroom and throwing you down onto his bed. this was one of his many ways to mess with you. “calm down kid i wasn’t gonna throw you that hard.” he replies and starts to laugh his ass off as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

you just start to look at him as he laughs, loving the way his smile is, and adoring the sound of his laugh — which most may call obnoxious.

“you’re insane i hope you know that.” you reply.

after he calms down from his laughing fit that seemed to last ages, a moment of silence begins to brew again. lasting longer than the first time. this time was different though. the eye contact didn’t seem like ‘friendly’ eye contact, but at the same time you never really had that eye contact with each other in the first place.

you start to look down at his lips. and right now, in this moment, they looked as delectable as ever. something about them. the rosy pink color they had, the same one displayed on his cheeks. the way they were plump and looked kissable. so kissable.

a feeling started to brew in your stomach. butterflies.

you could tell chris felt the same way. he looked down at your lips, admiring the brown and pink colors. before you could even get a breath out, his lips collided with yours. the kiss was perfect, more than that. they fit so well together, like a mold. he held your the side of your face as you began to straddle on-top of his lap.

but suddenly, you stopped. “wait chris..i’m not sure if..we should be doing this.” you said as you catched your breath, realizing what had just taken place seconds ago.

“baby it’s fine, i’ve been wanting this, wanting you, for as long as i could remember. you’re fine, i promise.” chris replies.

something about the way he said that..his words. its like you could feel them in your heart. you replied a shy “okay” and smiled as you started to kiss him again. this time the kissed last longer, and began to get steamier and steamier.

chris quickly dominated the kiss, interlocking his tongue with yours. it was messy but you loved it. and it definitely made you wet. chris on the other hand was going insane. more blood instantly began flowing to his dick, making his already erect cock even harder. struggling to hide it, he knew he had to do something. he broke the kiss, making you whine in disappointment.

you got used to the feeling of his pillow soft lips. “i know baby, i know.” chris said as he instantly understood how you were feeling. he began to kiss the side of your lip, then your jawline, moving down to your neck. he started to kiss and suck the soft skin and went harsher and harsher as he went lower and lower.

“can i take this off baby?” he said, motioning to your shirt. “mhm.” you replied, making him frustrated. “i need your words mama.” “yes chris, you can take this off!” you said chuckling a bit. chris’s eyes began to wander and they immediately went to your nipples. them being hard as it was cold in his room. “such a fucking slut not wearing a bra around your bestfriend hm?”

as if you weren’t wet enough, his words immediately had your panties even more soaked. chris dipped his head down as he started to swirl his tongue around your nipples and suck. he began to leave dark purple marks all over your skin, letting you know you were his. a thought began to linger in your mind. were you too young for this? i mean, you guys were only seventeen.

but all thoughts were swept away as chris added stimulation to your clit, using one hand and using the other to massage your right breast. you’ve had only two sexual experiences in your life so far, the first one being a girl and the second a guy, neither being able to satisfy you right. but chris, chris was different. “take your pants off for me ma, panties too.” you immediately obeyed his directions and looked back up at him eager to see what was next “so perfect for me baby, all just for me.” your heart melted.

“lay down f’ me.” you laid down on the bed as you patiently waited for his next move. chris began to take his shirt off and started to kiss all over your body again. starting from your neck down to your stomach, and making the kisses slow and sensual, making sure you were blessed with the right amount of satisfaction. you began to let out whines and moans signaling you wanted more than that, the feeling already being beyond immaculate. chris started to kiss lower and lower and pried open your legs.

he stared for what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds. “oh my fucking gosh ma, you’ve been hiding all this from me?” chris said as he began to lick and suck on your thighs, devouring all the remnants of your arousal. you began to whine even more. that’s when chris ducked his head even lower and began to lick at your entrance. “mmmmm” he groaned at the taste, tasting sweet and saltiness.

he began to flatten his tongue against your clit, making you moan as loud as ever. before you could even get a word out he began to fuck you with his tongue. “h-holy fuck chris!” he started to slurp and suck repeated on your weeping pussy. you looked down at him seeing a mess of your arousal and his spit forming on his face. “yes yes yes! oh myyy, oh my fuck baby” you moaned loudly. “hmmm you like that ma?” chris groaned into your pussy, the vibrations immediately going straight to your core, making you wrap your thighs around his head.

chris instantly put his head up and stared into you. “keep your hips down or i’ll stop. understand?” chris said demandingly. you’ve never seen that side of him, but oh did it turn you on even more. “ ‘m sorry baby just please, please keep going..” your wish was his command as he immediately went back to eating you like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. like a starved lion. the dirtiest slurping, slushing, and gushing sounds could be heard from chris’s room. “ohhh my godddd” you moaned, feeling your orgasm start to build up. chris started to suck faster and faster, it was inhumane at this point. he groaned repeatedly knowing it would go straight to your core. “fuck chris i can’t- i can’t take it!” as soon as the words left your mouth and whipped out his fingers, stuck his head up and said “spit.” in the most devilish tone.

you spat into his hand. “good fucking girl.” chris said, as he stuck two of his fingers into your hole that was practically begging to be fucked with his fingers. maybe even his cock. his began to thrust into you slowly letting you get used to the pain, and then started to go faster, as if there was no tomorrow. you squealed and moaned out of intense pleasure not knowing how much longer you could take it for.

not even being able to think straight, chris added a third finger. he stared at your convulsing body and groaned “take it. take my fucking fingers in that tight fucking pussy of yours like the whore you are.” and that was it. those were the last words you heard before you saw flashing of your squirt exiting your body and your vision going white.

chris enjoyed seeing this, knowing that the pleasure he gave you was so intense that you couldn’t even signify him of when you were about to cum. letting you ride out your high, he slide out his fingers and sucked them, moaning a bit. you looked up at him with the most fucked out look in your eyes. “that was. the hottest. thing. i’ve ever seen.”

“i don’t know how i’m still alive after that. that was amazing chris.” you replied in awe. “you’re amazing.” chris said as he began to lean in and kiss you. “you like the way you taste huh?”

you moaned into the kiss signifying your answer. he broke the kiss saying “you did such a good job for me baby. so so good.” you looked at him and smiled. letting out a small “thank you.” “so..where does that leave us now?” chris says.

he didn’t get to finish yet.

- rosa speaks

hi guys this is my very first fic anddd smut. it is loosely based off of the song ‘softcore’ by my favorite artists of all time the neighbourhood!! this is for @annamcdonalds67 writing comp so when i saw this song up there i was so fucking happy. pls lmk what u think of this n if u want a pt. 2 i’ll happily make one.

- also sorry to all the ppl i tagged that don’t like 2 be tagged if they aren’t notified beforehand, i finished this way later than i was supposed to and i was supposed to dm ppl n ask if they wanted to be tagged but i don’t have time. sorry again but i hope u guys like it! ALSOOO COMMENT A PINK HEART IF U WANNA STAY ON MY TAGLIST FOR THE FUTURE 🩷🩷🩷

@musegyra @recklesssturniolo @stunza @sturnphilia @sturnsdoll @pinksturniolo @suyqa @thesturniolos @hoesformatt @mattscoquette @sturnrockwell @sturn777 @slut4chriss @thenickgirl @m9ttsverse @medilovesmatt @stars4chratt @slutz4sturniolos @mattbf

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut

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stsgluver · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟒 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara can’t find the dvd anywhere and gojo has a decision to make

wc. 4k

tags. fluff, angst (kinda), reader is described as fem, possibly ooc gojo (my bad), cliffhanger-ish, any spelling mistakes blame on my cats, possible plotholes

a/n. several things to address: firstly my description of dvds and how they work ARE SO FLAWED IK DON'T JUDGE. secondly, look I get how rct works so not everything I say is accurate but like this is also about 2d men so who's to judge. finally I'm not too sure about this chapter so if its shit lmk BUT I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT <333 ily all but I do have upcoming exams so the ending(s), won't be posted till possibly early February as I have to get back to studying :(

previous part / final part / series masterlist

“guys we’ve lost it.” nobara pushed up her mattress, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she peered beneath the wooden slats. all there was was her suitcase and a bag from an expensive shop she’d convinced gojo to buy for her. “it’s gone. poof. here once and now it’s not.” the ‘it’ in question being the dvd they’d treasured for the last few weeks (well, yuuji and nobara anyways).

after gojo had taken the dvd – unbeknownst to the first years – nobara had ended up sleeping for the next fourty eight hours, and then afterwards spending several days catching up on the classwork she’d missed. she hadn’t had the time or energy to force her classmates into another movie night so now here they were, almost a week since it was last touched, finally realising its disappearance.

“do you want me and megumi to come help?” yuuji asked tentatively as he heard her curse as she dropped the mattress back down. nobara sighed, glancing around at the chaos she’d created. her room was a mess – drawers half open and half her clothes and books on the floor in case the dvd had slipped into a pile by accident.

“it’s not in my room,” she said adamantly, pushing her hair back from her face in frustration as she struggled to piece together the final moments she had with the dvd. she could remember sending megumi away, beginning her little day of research and even some of the videos she watched (the arcade and the christmas reunion), but then she fell asleep and everything was hazy from there.

“when was the last time you had it?” megumi asked and nobara felt her eye twitch like she hadn't retraced her steps a million times already.

“the first day i was off sick. i was watching a few–”

“without us?” the pink haired sorcerer cut in with a gasp.

“what else was there to do?” nobara argued back with no bite but he quietened down nonetheless.

a moment of silence settled between the three as each tried to figure out where it could have been misplaced or who could’ve accidentally picked it up. if nobara had dropped it somewhere outside of her dorm, could one of the older years taken it?

nobara was brought out of deep thought by yuuji flippantly asking: “did you watch any after sensei came to see you?” she froze at the implication of his words. at no point could she recall their teacher ever coming in to check on her – it had always been either yuuji, megumi or maki.

“what?”

several hours later, the three first years found themselves huddled on the benches, nobara in the middle and the boys either side of her. in front of them were the second years and gojo – the latter having said something to annoy maki as yuuta held her back from making a swing at their laughing teacher. the second year teacher was off ill today so the larger class meant that the three had a distraction as they tried to figure out what their next step was – if they even had one at this point.

the assumed facts were as such: the first years were no longer in possession of the dvd, and gojo had it. though there was little doubt that this was true, it didn’t stop them questioning the possibility – after all, megumi had pointed out, there’d been no alter in his behaviour whatsoever since the minute he’d checked on nobara. surely, even the strongest would be noticeably affected by a disk that immortalised a happiness and innocence he’d never be able to return to.

but then again, maybe this was just another thing that separated gojo from the rest of society. being the strongest came before all else, he didn’t have the time to mourn resurfaced memories.

“maybe he just doesn’t have it,” yuuji suggested.

“he has to,” nobara reaffirmed. at this point they’d exhausted all other options about where it could possibly be and surely they would have heard if one of the older years found what they had. “would he tell you if he had it?” she asked megumi.

“no,” megumi said quickly, shaking his head and leaning back on the bench as he looked over at gojo, “we… he wouldn’t talk to me about that. about them.”

“could we steal it back?” yuuji offered and nobara debated duct taping his mouth closed.

megumi scoffed, shaking his head, “he has six eyes. even if we tried, he’d know for sure it was us.”

“he already knows it was us,” nobara countered, not that she agreed with yuuji’s solution by any means. “which is why i don’t get why he hasn’t said anyth–”

“oi, you three!” the first years jumped apart from their circle, hearts pounding as gojo appeared before them with a smirk toying at the corner of his lips and his hands clasped behind his back. “whoever beats maki in hand to hand combat gets the day off tomorrow!”

“yuuji if you win, i’m taking your day off,” nobara called out as she trailed behind the aforementioned boy running to the centre of the field.

“okay!”

unsurprisingly, all three first years lost against the second year. megumi came closest to winning but when he tried to use his cursed technique, gojo countered it, catching him off guard and giving maki the opportunity to sweep him off his feet with her staff.

gojo found himself still laughing over megumi’s shocked expression as he fell flat on his back as he stepped past the threshold of his office. even after all he’d taught the boy in combat, with no cursed technique it was hard to overcome the zenin girl’s strength and skill she’d mastered to take on her own clan.

he let out a small sigh as the door locked shut and, for the first time that day, he was alone with his own thoughts.

dropping down into his office chair, gojo crossed one leg over the other as he pulled open a drawer. on the top of a pile of unread paperwork for the higher ups was the dvd the first years were so fixated on.

he wasn’t stupid; he knew eventually they would figure out he had it and, unlike himself, they’d been way less subtle once they’d put two and two together. yuuji’s speech had tripled in speed, nobara was way too keen on being anywhere but where he was and megumi… gojo couldn’t forget the guilt and hurt in the teenage boy’s eyes after telling him you were gone. it was here again, had been for several weeks, and it was only after stumbling upon the disk in nobara’s room that he’d understood why.

gojo gritted his teeth together as he held the disk up between shaky fingers. it was pathetic, he scolded himself, it was just a bit of plastic with memories lasered into divots in a never ending spiral. it wasn’t worth the heartache.

if he looked closely enough, he could see shoko’s name written on the centrepiece in faded black sharpie. after gojo had stumbled upon the old camera several years after graduating from jujutsu high, shoko had taken back the camera to transfer all of the old clips onto dvds and given him, herself, nanami and you your own copies. he couldn’t even remember where his and yours were anymore, in fact he’d pretty much forgotten about their existence until a week ago.

he wasn’t sure where shoko had lost the dvd for the first years to get their hands on it but he hadn’t worked up the courage to speak to her about it. he hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything more than just spin the disk between his fingers, cry about it for a bit, and go back to pretending he didn’t have the last remnants of his youth in his drawer.

gojo glanced between the disk and the laptop on his desk. it was the last step he needed to take to hear your voice again. it had been on repeat for the last week in his mind; you uttering his name and that innocent question, would you last beyond your teenage years?

he missed it, missed you so bad.

raising megumi was a lot harder without you there; you were his favourite after all, bridging the gap between the two when they bumped heads with their contrasting personalities. gojo was all rainbows and giggles and megumi was everything but. you were a happy medium, creating a balance that maintained order in the home you shared. it was a peace that megumi deserved after losing his parents.

gojo clicked his tongue, reaching across to press a button that opened up a space for the disk. slotting it in place, he clicked the device shut and held his breath as he waited. it took several seconds for the files to load and then there he was again, back in those fields under the large weeping willow that was your spot.

the video was paused, exactly where it had been left, except this time gojo could actually see the screen.

your face wasn’t in it, just his. his glasses were off – balanced on your head if he remembered correctly – as he used your lap as a pillow. one of your hands was holding the camera while the other was held over his eyes to block any sort of light. the only thing he could make out was your cursed energy.

you were nearing the end of your first year and whilst gojo was growing more powerful, he was also growing more and more reliant on his glasses to stop himself from becoming so overwhelmed with the constant information he received with his six eyes. he’d overworked himself that day, as he so often did, hence why you’d dragged him away from the school to the seclusion of the tree.

your questions about the longevity of your relationship weren’t meant to hold deep meaning, you just wanted to take his mind off of the headaches. gojo would choose thinking about you over the searing pain in the back of his head any day. yaga said that once he had a better understanding of his reversed curse technique it wouldn’t be so bad but until then it was just about riding it out.

gojo snorted at the notion. his reversed curse technique only marginally helped. you were what got him through the days when he’d lock himself in his bedroom with blackout blinds pulled down, hiding under his covers till he felt like he could function in society again.

he didn’t unpause the video, however, instead clicking onto the main tab with all of the files stored.

lifting up his blindfold and dropping it down onto the desk, gojo took a deep breath before he began scrolling. unlike when the first years were simply searching for the ones with their favourite thumbnail, gojo was specifically searching for the ones he knew focused on you.

he needed to hear your voice again, to play it on repeat until it became so ingrained into his skin he could feel your touch.

gojo halted the cursor over the familiar date of your birthday, clicking on it without a second thought as the video filled the screen. it buffered for a moment, giving him a view of the dorm he’d practically spent three years in (despite yaga’s constant complaints and reminders that dorms were segregated on gender).

in the corner of your room was a stack of plushies that he’d won for you at arcades, and your walls were covered in photobooth photos and polaroids of your group of friends. his personal favourite was the polaroid you had pinned just above your desk. it was the two of you on new years eve sharing your first kiss of the year, sparklers in hand and the faint pink of a firework in the background. on the bottom of the polaroid was haibara’s handwriting as he’d scribbled on the date and a small smiley face.

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” seventeen year old gojo sung in the video, swaying the camera side to side above a pile of duvet and pillows. you were somewhere in the middle, half asleep and trying to push yourself deeper into the comfort of your bed and further from whatever the screeching was in your room.

you’d never been a morning person whereas he, on the other hand, had a reserve of energy that never depleted. it was what made getting up at the crack of dawn on your birthday so much more entertaining for him. even as an adult, when the two of you lived together in the comfort of your own apartment, he would either force you to stay up until midnight or gently nudge you awake at 4am to tell you he loved you.

“satoru,” you whispered groggily when you gave up trying to ignore his awful singing, lifting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. he would have done anything to see you physically before him instead of watching you through the lens of a camera. to be looked at with love as you did and not a mix of fear and respect. “if yaga catches you–”

“i’m just singing happy birthday to my girl,” his younger self dismissed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he preferred your bed over his, a softer mattress he used to argue when shoko would complain about him showing up at your shared dorm several nights in a row. that particular birthday, he was pretty sure she’d been sent on a training mission over in kyoto. gojo’s hand came into frame as he ran a gentle hand through your hair, giving it a little pat when you quietly hummed at the contact. “he can’t hate on me for that.”

“yes he can,” you retorted, rolling your eyes with a tired smile. gojo felt his chest tighten – two years without waking up by that very same smile after almost a decade of having it everyday.

“i’ll blame shoko,” gojo shrugged with a grin, kicking his legs up onto your bed, despite your small protest that he was taking up all of your space. like you weren’t just as clingy as he was.

you huffed out a quiet laugh, your elbow digging into your pillow as you rested your head in your hand to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “shoko forced the strongest sorcerer of the modern day to enter the girls’ dorms? uh huh.”

“woah woah, i’m the strongest of all time baby, i don’t do second best,” he corrected, leaning down to give you a peck on the forehead. you scrunched your nose up at the contact, but even through the viewpoint of the camera, he can see how your eyes dropped down to his lips.

“i know you don’t,” you smiled and gojo dropped the camera down as he moved to give you your first real kiss of seventeen. present day gojo sucked in a breath, willing for himself to get through at least one several minute video of you until he started crying.

the kiss ended all too quickly as gojo shoved the camera back into your face, the flash causing you to squint and squeeze your eyes closed. “now smile and say cheese, you’re seventeen!”

“woo!” you cheered half heartedly, giving in to his infectious excitement. blowing the camera a tired kiss, you shuffled yourself back deep beneath your duvet. “now can i go back to sleep?”

“as long as i can stay.”

“fine,” you dragged out, though you both knew you wanted him to just as much. yaga be damned. the video ended several seconds later and an odd silence filled his office.

he’d only ever watched several of these videos once or twice – back when he still had you to curl up into his side and reminisce with him and laugh at nanami’s old haircut. if he was being honest, he didn’t even remember he’d recorded that (though he was glad he did).

gojo was more confident this time when he scrolled, his hands no longer shaking as much as they had been as he smiled at the life he once had. a life with you and geto.

this time he stopped at a thumbnail with the three of you; gojo holding up the camera high as the three of you posed like it was a photo. it was at one of only a handful clan events you had attended together, with both you and geto as gojo’s plus ones. he and geto were in matching suits and you were in a floor length dress that he’d spent way too much money on (but you looked so pretty when you tried it on he couldn’t not get it for you).

“hi this is mtv,” you clapped your hands together, “and welcome to my crib.” his younger self waved his hands around in the background (geto was recording), showing off the spiralling architecture that cost more money than fathomable.

gojo quietly laughed in his office. the politics of clans and these events were the last reason he’d ever chosen to attend them. seeing you all dressed up and running around buildings with a million rooms were right at the top. his favourite had to be when both the first years, shoko and utahime had also been in attendance, but after haibara’s death, hanging around with the clans that upheld the institution that killed their friend seemed distasteful.

“this is my in house art museum collection.” you led geto along one of the vast corridors, pointing into a room with dozens of framed canvases of art from all across the globe. “this is where i come in for inspiration and to truly just feel art you know?”

“i wasn’t aware you had skills beyond stickmen,” geto interjected and you raised both your middle fingers at him.

“art is subjective, di–”

“woah, i have standards to uphold here,” gojo cupped a hand over your mouth, stopping any expletive leaving you. you hummed in annoyance and the white haired sorcerer grinned, nodding his head over to a partially opened door. “we don’t need to argue when we have a whole cinema room to ourselves.” gojo remembered the stain of red lipstick you’d left on his hand when he let you go (you’d refused to kiss him all evening because of your makeup).

the cinema room was massive: rows and rows of sleek leather seats that looked out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the building. this was someone’s home, though it looked like anything but.

“this is my cinema room,” geto held onto the back of one of the chairs as he loosened his tie. he lowered his voice as he leant closer to the camera gojo was now holding. “we used to have two but daddy converted the smaller one into a sauna so now we only have this one,” he said with an upturned nose, and you could be heard giggling in the background at his faux disgust.

you nor geto were from the same wealthy background as gojo was and loved to poke fun at his high status background.

“oi!” an official that was supposed to be watching for any curses or curse users that tried to sneak into the event pointed a light into the cinema room. “you kids shouldn’t be back here!”

gojo laughed, throwing the camera to geto as he grabbed your hand and led you quickly down the stairs to another exit at the bottom of the stairs. geto turned off the recording once he’d grabbed a hold of the device in favour of focusing on not being caught. it wasn’t like there would be any real consequence – they were with gojo satoru after all.

the white hair sorcerer smiled as he thought back to the rest of the night. obviously, you’d all managed to get away – though he had suffered your wrath at the fact your legs weren’t as long as their’s were and you were running in heels. two strikes, but he’d made it up to you by taking you out for ice cream instead of going back to hear the speeches.

it wasn’t an exaggeration to say gojo would have done anything for you then.

gojo swallowed a lump in his throat as your last interaction came to mind. you were arguing, as you had been in the weeks up until megumi’s birthday as he inched closer and closer to being old enough to enrol in jujutsu high.

the only wish he’d ever refused to fulfil: keeping megumi away from jujutsu.

“he’s our responsibility.” you were yelling at him, desperate for him to understand your point of view and he was walking away. dodging your anger by going wherever his legs took him – anywhere but where you were. “we need to protect him. we can’t protect him if he becomes a sorcerer too.”

“i can,” he insisted, halting in his place to turn and look down at you. his cursed technique was activated, though there was no need for it to be, and all it did was frustrate you further.

“i nearly died today!” you countered, pointing to your neck with a faint scar. shoko’s reversed cursed technique was almost perfect, but not even that could fully erase the deep lacerations that had almost taken your life. “where were you? you can’t be everywhere and help everyone at the same time. it’s just not possible.”

“i can try.” his jaw was tight as he responded through gritted teeth.

“and if that’s not enough?” you didn’t need to see his eyes to know his were locked directly onto yours, daring you to continue. he wouldn’t hurt you, would never dream of it, angry or not, but how could you of all people doubt him? “what then gojo satoru?” you uttered his full name like it was an insult, “you may be the strongest but he’s not. i’m not. we’re mortals compared to you.”

“you’re my family,” his voice broke.

“yu and suguru were family once too.”

gojo clenched his fists at the memory, at the reminder he walked out after that. you were trying to get him to see your concerns, and he’d taken that as you blaming him for the outcome of your close friends. that was the last time he ever saw you; tears welling up in the corner of your eyes at his insensitivity, at his inability to admit that maybe, just maybe, he too was just a mortal.

everything you said was logical and made sense – he had almost lost you that day, having not initially received the message that you had needed backup as he was preoccupied with his own mission. by the time he had arrived, the curse had its claws dug deep into your skin and it had taken everything in him not to use hollow purple and bring the entire infrastructure down in seconds.

despite all he’d done to save you that day, he’d still lost you. he’d only delayed the seemingly inevitable by mere hours.

megumi sat up in bed at the sound of two knocks on the door. he highly doubted it would be yuuji since the pink haired sorcerer had only left several minutes prior, saying something about needing to meet panda.

to his surprise, gojo stood before him, hands in the pockets of his pants as he half smiled at the younger boy.

“is itadori here?” megumi hesitated before shaking his head. “good,” gojo held up the missing dvd, “we need to talk.”

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if ive missed anyone im so sorry send me a little reminder <3

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koralira-kira · 2 months ago

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ALMOST SOMETHING ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆k. bakugo⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

pairings : k. bakugo x reader

genre: romance, angst

synopsis: After months of blurred lines between friendship and something more, Bakugo and Y/N finally confront their feelings—leading to a long-awaited confession that turns their undefined connection into something real.

warnings: gut-wrenching angst bruh… my heart lowkey ached while proof reading 😔

wc: 2,328

author’s note: HEYYYY back again w another fic cuz clearly i haven’t written in a while… OMG GUYS TYSM for like 1k like on my other bakugo fic LOLOLOLL. I rlly didn’t expect it to blow up so yeahhh. Anyways, this fic was based off a situation i had w me and my crush but disregard the confession part☝️ lol i rlly wanna get it off my chest for a while and i didn’t how to so why not right a fic abt RIGHTTT??? so yeaaa hope you guys enjoy this one, xoxo!!!

——

When did this all start you may ask? Well, it all began during the first few months of your 2nd year at UA. You’ve already made a promise to yourself that this year you’ll be better, stronger even, than you were last year. And by far, you’ve been pretty proud of yourself. I mean your grades were higher, combat skills were improving as well as perfecting and managing your quirk performances. But little did you know that a small little question would lead to all the things you worked hard for to a turn.

“Oi! got another pen with you, extra?” A familiar blonde asks you from your left.

“Yeah, sure, here you go bakugo,” you said as you handed over the extra pen you have in your little pouch.

“Tsk, thanks.” Was then all he said before snatching the writing material from your hand.

Starting from there, interactions came from “hey dumbass, need to borrow ya notes from Aizawa’s class. Might’ve forgot a few bonus notes he wrote down,” to “shitty hair’s busy rn, wanna join me in for a lil spar?” To “hey, study sesh at my room later, 9?”

And well, it somehow developed this weird in-between space you and Bakugo somehow found yourselves

Maybe it was after that night patrol last month, when he insisted on walking you back to your dorm “just in case.” Maybe it was when he started saving you a seat beside him in the common room during movie nights. Or maybe it was the late-night calls (yes, LATE NIGHT CALLS) that used to be about study questions—but somewhere along the line turned into the two of you just… talking. Laughing. Existing in the silence.

There was even this one time where you two were all bunched up on your bed, cuddled up and whatnot, whilst just staring into each other. The show on the tv screen was already long forgotten and it felt like as if you two were the only humans left in the world.

It was silent. Pure silence. Only the gaze of two confused souls were lingering in the air. Then there he was, slowly leaning closer to you. And you? You stayed as is. You didn’t know what to do and neither did you want his actions to stop.

There it was. The touch of his lips travelled to yours with such gentleness and softness. Which was ironic since it came from, well, Bakugo.

Since then, those random tender embraces became frequent. So frequent that there wouldn’t be a time that you two didn’t kissed whenever the two of you were alone or would leave each other’s dorm room.

Now?

You were in his room again. Hoodie that smelled like caramel and smoke. Your legs tangled up on his bed. His arm lazily wrapped around your waist. Netflix playing something that neither of you were really watching.

“Katsuki,” you murmured, head pressed into his chest. You felt his heartbeat. Slow. Steady. Loud. “You good?”

“Huh?” he grunted, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah, why?”

“You’re tense.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

His hand tightened ever so slightly around your waist.

“…Maybe ‘cause you’re annoying,” he muttered.

You smirked and gently nudged his ribs, making him jolt. “You literally invited me here, dumbass.”

“Didn’t say I regretted it.”

You caught that. The pause. The way his voice dipped lower. Softer.

This wasn’t the first time you ended up cuddled like this. It wasn’t even the second. It had become… normal.

But not defined.

And that was starting to mess with your head. In all honesty, it made you wonder about ALL those casual things that you two have done together.

[Meanwhile, in the common room]

“Y/N’s not coming?” Mina asked, glancing around.

“She’s probably with Bakugo again,” Kaminari said casually, chewing on a Pocky stick.

“Again?” Sero raised an eyebrow.

Kirishima chuckled. “They’ve been hanging out a lot lately.”

“Late-night calls, studying together, room hopping…” Mina grinned. “Tell me they’re not a thing.”

“No way,” Jirou chimed in. “I asked Y/N about it once and she just said ‘it’s casual.’”

“Casual?” Mina echoed. “Girl, that man does not do casual cuddles. He’s a menace.”

Kirishima hesitated. “Bakugo told me it’s nothing serious… but he gets weird when I joke about her.”

“Oh, he likes her,” Mina said confidently. “He just doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

[Back in Bakugo’s room]

You pulled away a bit from him and looked up.

“Kats,” you asked quietly, eyes searching his, “what are we?”

His jaw clenched.

His red eyes flickered down to you, then back up at the ceiling. He was quiet for a second too long.

“I dunno.”

That was all he said.

Your stomach dropped a little. You sat up slightly, heart racing, trying not to show it.

“I mean, we cuddle. Hang out. Stay up talking ‘til like 3AM. And that time you kissed me—”

“That was—” he started, voice a little sharper, but stopped.

“…Nothing?” you finished for him. Bitterly.

But just then—your phone buzzed.

It was Mina. “Girl, help me with this dumb project, I need you rn pls.”

You glanced at him. “I gotta go. Mina needs help.”

Katsuki nodded. “Right. Yeah. Go.”

You didn’t even kiss him goodbye this time.

And as the door clicked shut behind you, Bakugo just sat there.

Staring at the empty space on his bed where you’d been.

Then he cursed under his breath. “Fucking idiot…”

[The night after you left his room]

Bakugo stared at his phone.

Nothing.

No text from you.

No “made it back” message. No memes. No “goodnight, loser.” Nothing.

And fuck, why did that feel like a punch to the chest?

He tossed his phone to the other side of the bed. Hard.

Then stared at the ceiling in the dark. The silence in his room—once comforting—now felt suffocating. His bed, still slightly warm where you’d laid beside him, now felt wrong without your body curled into his.

“What are we?”

“I dunno.”

Stupid. Why the hell did he say that?

Why couldn’t he have just said what he felt?

But what did he even feel? You were… what? His friend? His almost? His comfort? His—

His door swung open.

“Katsuki?” Kirishima’s voice cut through the silence. “You alive?”

Bakugo groaned and sat up. “Don’t you knock?”

“I did. You just ignored it.”

Kirishima walked in and flopped down on his desk chair, spinning lazily. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Bakugo muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“…Did something happen?”

Bakugo didn’t answer.

Kirishima waited. Patient. Like always.

Finally, Katsuki sighed.

“She asked me what we are.”

Kirishima blinked. “Oh. You and Y/N?”

Bakugo just nodded, jaw clenched.

“Well…” Kirishima tilted his head, trying to keep his voice casual. “What are you guys?”

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW, SHITTY HAIR.”

Kirishima held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, hey. I’m just the messenger.”

Bakugo paced. “It’s not like I don’t like her. I do. I like hanging out with her. I like talking to her. I like when she wears my clothes. I like when she falls asleep on my chest like it’s the most normal fucking thing in the world.”

He stopped.

Kirishima stared. “Bro…”

“And I like kissing her, okay?” Bakugo admitted, louder now, voice raw. “I like the way she looks at me like I’m not just some ticking time bomb. But every time I try to figure out what this is, my brain just—explodes.”

Kirishima nodded slowly. “Sounds like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Bakugo snapped.

“Okay,” Kirishima said gently. “Then what are you so afraid of saying?”

Bakugo didn’t answer. Because maybe he was scared. Scared that if he gave it a name—if he called it love—you’d run.

Or worse: you wouldn’t feel the same.

⸻

[A few days later]

You’d been quieter.

You hadn’t stopped hanging out with him completely, but it wasn’t the same.

You’d stopped calling late at night.

You sat a little further from him on the couch.

No more falling asleep in his room.

No more random kisses.

It was like you’d put up a wall he didn’t know how to climb.

Everyone else noticed too.

“Trouble in cuddly paradise?” Mina teased one day in the common room when you sat next to Sero instead of Bakugo.

You just smiled and shrugged. “Nah. We’re just friends.”

Bakugo’s jaw tensed from where he stood in the hallway. Just friends. That phrase burned into his ears.

He watched as you laughed with Kaminari, threw popcorn at Mina, shared a drink with Jirou—and all the while, you didn’t even glance his way.

He went back to his room.

Didn’t even slam the door.

That’s how wrecked he felt.

⸻

[That night]

He texted you.

katsuki: you up?

You didn’t reply.

katsuki: i made extra. you want some?

Still nothing.

katsuki: y/n?

He stared at the typing bubble that appeared… then disappeared.

And something inside him just snapped.

⸻

[The next day]

“Talk to her,” Kirishima said gently, sitting beside him at lunch.

Bakugo scowled. “She doesn’t want to.”

“She does. She just doesn’t know what you want. She’s probably trying to protect herself.”

Bakugo looked down at his tray. “…I’m not good at this shit.”

“You don’t have to be good at it. You just have to be honest.”

Bakugo exhaled slowly.

“…Then I need to fix it.”

⸻

[That night]

He stood outside your dorm room, the weight of everything he hadn’t said sitting heavy on his shoulders. His thumb hovered over his phone screen for way too long before he shoved it into his pocket and knocked.

When you opened the door, a mix of surprise and softness crossed your face. “Katsuki?”

His voice was lower than usual. Almost… uncertain. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated for a second, then stepped aside. “Yeah. Come in.”

The room was quiet. Familiar, yet full of tension that hadn’t been there before. He sat on the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees, staring down at his hands.

“You asked me something the other night,” he said.

You stayed silent, waiting. You already knew where this was going.

“…You asked what we are.”

He glanced up. Your eyes met, and he held the look longer than he usually did.

“I didn’t answer you then because I didn’t know how,” he continued. “And maybe I was scared. No—I was scared. Because what I feel for you… it’s not casual. And calling it ‘just friends’ isn’t even close.”

He stood now, slowly stepping toward you like you were something delicate—like if he moved too fast, you’d disappear.

“I like you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever wanted to admit. It’s not just the stupid flirting or the late-night calls or the way you fall asleep on me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s you. Everything about you.”

Your breath caught.

“You make me feel—fuck, I don’t even know how to explain it. Like I can breathe. Like I don’t always have to be on edge. Like I’m not just… the guy who blows shit up.”

He was right in front of you now, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart was thudding so loud you swore he could hear it.

And when he reached up, cupping your cheek like he was still unsure if this was real, you leaned into his hand.

“I’m not good at this,” he muttered. “But I know one thing—I want you. Not halfway. Not as ‘just friends.’ All in.”

There was a pause.

Then, with a small smile tugging at your lips, you whispered, “Took you long enough.”

And just like that, you pulled him in.

The kiss was slow. Familiar, but different. Like all the tension and unsaid feelings had finally unraveled. Like something that had been building for way too long finally clicked into place.

When you finally pulled back, foreheads still resting together, you whispered, “So… what are we now?”

Bakugo let out a quiet huff of a laugh.

“We’re something real. Finally.”

——

fin

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charliegyrth · 2 months ago

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Sliding Doors, Changing Waistlines

A Weight Gain 'What If' Story

Hello, everybody! Charlie here. Have you ever seen the 90s movie Sliding Doors? It's about how one woman's life takes two drastically different paths because of a single change. I wanted to do the weight gain version of that. Enjoy!

***

It started with a muffin.

Brady came back from work with a small, white box in his hands. The label read “Roskoe’s Bakery.” He’d never brought home any treats for me before, but I think he was trying to make a peace offering after our argument this morning.

I was all set to just glare at him and spend the rest of the evening sulking, but he looked really apologetic. Even though he never said the words “I’m sorry,” the little surprise was more than enough for me to forgive him.

I opened the box and saw the most delicious-looking banana nut muffin inside.

“Why’d you get me this?” I asked. I was hoping that maybe he actually would apologize.

And he sort of did. He said, “Because you deserve it for putting up with all my crap.”

And there’d been a lot of crap to put up with. He was teacher, and he spent all of last year in a happy mood. He’d come home smiling and then we’d snuggle together and watch TV. This year, though, his class was absolutely terrible. He had a new horror story every day, and often, he’d take his frustrations out on me. He’d gotten particularly snippy in the last week (midterms), and I’d just about had my limit.

I took my first bite and moaned. It was seriously the best thing I’d ever tasted. My God. It was incredible.

“Good, huh?”

I took another bite. “You have no idea.”

That made him smile, though I could tell he was still on-edge from work. He wanted to vent again.

“Alright. Go ahead. Tell me how terrible your students are.”

As I ate the muffin, he unloaded all his anger from the day. Before, all this complaining would get me angry, too. But with this amazing taste in my mouth, I just listened and offered him the right amount of encouragement.

When he was done venting, I was done eating. He felt surprisingly calm, and I did, too.

The muffin did very little to affect my appetite for dinner. I still ate everything on my plate. In fact, Brady and I were having such fun at the dinner table, talking and joking around like we used to, that I went back for seconds.

The next day, he brought back a donut from Roskoe’s. This was even better than the muffin! I happily listened to Brady complain as I savored the chocolatey taste. Just like before, he’d gotten all his anger out of his system and our dinner was once again happy.

His afternoon trips to Roskoe’s continued, and it worked every time. All Brady wanted was to vent about his day without getting me upset, and the only way he could do that was if he stuffed me full of sugar. It was a perfect plan.

Unfortunately, we hit a roadblock by the second week. He’d had a particularly awful day at work (mostly because parents were upset about their kids’ grades), so he had a lot to say. And because my stomach had gotten used to the decadent treats, I was scarfing them down faster. I ended up finishing my éclair while he was still in the middle of complaining, and I started to get annoyed again.

I snapped back at him.

Dinner that night was pretty tense, and we both went to sleep angry.

Just in case, he came back the next day with two muffins instead of one. That lasted for a bit longer, and our plan was back on track.

This went on for about a month, with Brady eventually moving up to three treats (and then four) as I started to speed up my eating time.

The only problem now was that my stomach expected the blast of sugar at the same time each day, so I felt moody on the weekends when he wasn’t working. Brady noticed, so he started driving down to Roskoe’s on Saturday and Sunday to keep me happy.

Okay, that wasn’t the only problem. The other problem, the bigger problem, was that I was gaining weight fast. Brady had developed a dad bod a couple years ago, while I remained at my college weight. After a month and a half of Roskoe’s, I’d caught up to him. My belly was a bit softer, but most of my extra fat accumulated on my love handles. I felt pretty self-conscious, but Brady assured me that if a little chub was the price to pay for our happiness, then he was okay with it. In a way, he actually liked my love handles. He touched them all the time.

Another month later, and my hips had gotten pretty wide. I didn’t realize how big they’d gotten until I caught my reflection in the window outside our favorite diner. I couldn’t believe how much my butt jutted out.

I told Brady to stop going to the bakery, but I craved it now. My stomach rumbled if I didn’t have at least three snacks every afternoon at 4:30. I tried to go one day without Roskoe’s and I couldn’t do it. I was addicted.

As I kept growing, Brady got increasingly affectionate. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even complain about work while I ate. Sometimes, he’d just rub my belly and watch me.

Pretty soon, “sometimes” because all the time. He was starting to like his class, and his trouble students had either straightened up or left. He didn’t need to give me treats anymore, but I needed them anyway.

By the end of the school year, I’d gained 70 pounds, mostly in my lower half. I didn’t like walking anymore, not because I was so heavy, but because my thighs rubbed together like sandpaper. I liked the feeling of my hips swaying, but I hated the friction burns. My legs had gotten so thick and lumpy that my hanging apron of a belly was barely noticeable. At least I didn’t have moobs, though. I would’ve hated those.

Now that summer has started, I’ve accepted my fate. I’m fat and I’ll probably keep getting fatter. It helps that Brady loves my new body. The way he touches me now makes me feel better about what I’ve become. And what I will become as the weight continues to build on me.

I’m happy like this, but every once in a while, I wonder what my life would’ve been like if Brady hadn’t brought home that muffin.

***

It started with a muffin.

Rather than say the words “I’m sorry,” he thought he could make me forgive him with some baked good. Well, it wasn’t going to cut it.

I opened the box and saw the most delicious-looking banana nut muffin inside. I really wanted to eat it, but I didn’t want to let Brady off the hook that easily.

“Why’d you get me this?” I asked. Maybe if he actually apologized with his words, I’d eat it.

“Because you deserve it for putting up with all my crap,” he said.

And there’d been a lot of crap to put up with. This whole school year, he’d been an absolute nightmare. Every day, he’d come home with more horror stories about his unruly class. He wanted me to just sit there and listen to him vent, but I always pushed back. I hated all that negativity.

“Yeah, well I’m not hungry. Why don’t you eat it?”

He looked down at the muffin. He didn’t really have a sweet tooth, but he decided to take a bite anyway. He immediately moaned in pleasure.

“Good, huh?”

He took another bite. “You have no idea.”

He was smiling! I didn’t even remember the last time I’d seen him smile. It was like all his pent-up anger disappeared. Maybe that would limit tonight’s ranting session.

“Alright,” I said. “Go ahead. Tell me how terrible your students are.”

But he didn’t. He mumbled, “Actually, I’m okay.” And he kept eating.

It was a God damned miracle! All he needed was a dessert and he didn’t need to unload all his anger on me.

I felt so relieved, and he did, too.

The muffin did very little to affect his appetite for dinner. He still ate everything on his plate. In fact, we were having such fun at the dinner table, talking and joking around like we used to, that he went back for seconds.

The next day, he brought back a donut from Roskoe’s. He said it was even better than the muffin! Once again, all his anger was gone and he could enjoy our evening together.

His afternoon trips to Roskoe’s continued, and it worked every time. All Brady needed was a jolt of sugar to calm his nerves. He walked into the house fuming, and then he sat with me, ate his treat, and let everything go.

I asked him why he didn’t just eat at Roskoe’s before he got home.

His answer: “Because I enjoy it more with you by my side.”

That made my heart melt.

This plan worked perfectly for about a week and a half. Then, after a particularly awful day at work, he scarfed down an éclair, but he was still upset. He started complaining again, and because it had been so long since he snapped at me like this, things escalated.

Dinner that night was pretty tense, and we both went to sleep angry.

To fix this problem, he came back the next day with two muffins instead of one. That seemed to do the trick. His stomach had gotten used to the desserts, and now he needed more.

This went on for about a month, with Brady eventually moving up to three treats (and then four) as his eating time sped up.

The only problem now was that his stomach expected the blast of sugar at the same time each day, so he felt moody on the weekends when he wasn’t working. I noticed, so to keep him happy, I started driving down to Roskoe’s myself, every Saturday and Sunday. (It was a charming little place, and the smells were incredible. I didn’t dare to try anything myself, because I knew I’d get just as addicted as Brady.)

Of course, all this food was making Brady gain weight fast. He’d developed a dad bod a couple years ago, which I found very attractive. After a month and a half of Roskoe’s, he’d gone from dad bod to full-on fat. All of his new weight seemed to collect on his belly, which hung lower every day.

He didn’t seem self-conscious about it, though. He seemed to like the extra softness, and because he liked it, I liked it.

Another month later, and while his belly was flabbier, his biggest change was in his chest. He’d grown prominent moobs. I never would’ve thought I’d like those. After all, I was gay. Breasts never did anything for me. But his were so big and so hairy, that I couldn’t stop touching them. He loved that, of course.

Brady had no plans to slow down. He was beyond addicted. Every time he came home at 4:30, his stomach was rumbling, demanding his daily dose of sugar. Four treats became five. Then six. Sometimes, he’d even bring home a dozen donuts, spread out on the couch, and take his time eating them all evening.

As he kept growing, I found my hands constantly touching him. Squeezing him. Discovering new rolls or dimples. He’d stopped talking about work completely. He didn’t even look annoyed when he walked home. Just hungry.

Eventually, I asked him directly if he still felt stressed out.

“Nope,” he said while chewing on his third slice of cheesecake. I guess his class had really taken to their calmer, bigger teacher. He didn’t need to eat these treats anymore, but his stomach required them anyway.

By the end of the school year, he’d gained close to 100 pounds, mostly in his belly and chest. He didn’t like walking around anymore, because his belly kept flopping against his thighs. His ass was dimpled but not too big, and his legs (though thicker) were noticeably small compared to his massive middle.

And his moobs, those were his best feature. Hanging to the sides of his bulging stomach, thick and hairy and very sensitive. They're incredible.

Now that summer has started, I love what my husband has turned into. He’s fat and he’ll probably keep getting fatter. It helps that he loves his new body, too. I take care of him, worship him, and excitedly await each new addition to his obese body. I’m excited to see him continue growing.

We’re both so happy, but every once in a while, I wonder what our lives would’ve been like if Brady hadn’t brought home that muffin.

The End.

You can find all my stories here.

#gainer fiction #gainerstory #male wg #feeder fiction #gainerstories #gay feeder #gainerfiction #gainer stories #gainer story #weight gain fiction

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solareveille · 2 months ago

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cornplating the fifties private school movie on my third watch in two weeks Please Bear With Me Im So Sorry I Dont Control The Hyperfixation Demons

did not realize its cameron knox and neil holding the banners at the start lol

todd saying walt whitman looks like a "madman" because the poets had that bit telling scary stories together beforehand

the running gag of pitts banging his head on things in the cave

NEVER understood the appeal of charlie/knox till i realized how much they interact altho most of it is charlie goading him in some way. once again charlie dalton, load bearing fandom bicycle

the deleted scene of neil and todd running lines at the dock lives in my brain so solidly i was faintly surprised when it didnt come up. its basically canon to me anyways

i feel like the scene of keating's class where theyre walking in their own manner at least vaguely foreshadows cameron's intentions. bc conforming to the poets' agenda is still a kind of conformity, and it's one cameron is trying to wear like an ill fitting jacket the entire movie. in the end, he throws the rest of them off and thinks for /himself/ -ofc unfortunately, from our angle and our sympathies this decision smacks of betrayal

the number of times meeks says "yes sir"

poetrusic is "poetry and music". no i did not catch that the first time around

im not sure abt this one bc all ive heard is that ethan hawke/rsl re-workshopped the desk set scene bc it wasnt initially working and came up with throwing it together - but i always thought that when rsl says the last thing abt "you'll get another one next year", todd/ethan's laugh sounds like he was genuinely surprised. i wonder if it was adlibbed lol either way great line

#rev.txt #dead poets society #dps #im done. for now. jeez louise

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago

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Merry Christmas Mishaps

Summary: Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. You were used to the lights and the hustle and - God help him, the snow - that came with where you had called home for so long. You had given all that up to move to California to be with him, and he decided that if he couldn’t get you back on the east coast for the holiday, maybe he could improvise and start making new traditions here together, with a few surprises along the way.

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Non-descriptive smut that’s more alluded to but still there.

Notes: Back on my Javy Needs More Love agenda, but make it the ✨Holiday Edition✨

Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "I have a secret".

---

Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it.

When you had fallen in love with him, agreeing to move to San Diego to be with him since he couldn’t exactly relocate for you (he would have, in a heartbeat), you had done so with little to no hesitation. Being together was worth getting used to a new time zone and weather patterns. Last year, he had accompanied you home for the holidays, being introduced to every aunt and uncle and cousin twice removed as the boyfriend who had whisked you away to sunny California, experiencing every tradition and festive tourist trap he could have imagined, his cheeks cold and his toes numb, but with a giant smile on his face because of how happy you were.

This year, though, he had drawn the short straw amongst his squad and would be working half a day on the 23rd and then the day after Christmas, too. And you, in all of your beauty and grace and complete and utter stubbornness, had refused to entertain the idea of going home by yourself.

“For God’s sake, Javy. You think I’d let you spend Christmas alone?”

You had sounded truly scandalized at the suggestion, and neither of you had talked about it since.

But he knew.

You were as cheerful as ever on the outside, even more so, really, overcompensating with the winter wonderland that your shared condo had turned into. Hardly a surface wasn’t covered in something festive since your negotiated date of the 15th of November (you were of the belief that Christmas started on November 1st, where he was a strict after Thanksgiving guy). Christmas playlists were on a constant rotation, and he’d watched more Hallmark movies in the last few weeks than he was willing to admit. You were doing everything right to make it seem like you were in the holiday spirit, but he could see the way the light in your eye dimmed just the slightest bit when you didn’t realize he was looking, and how sometimes your smile was just the tiniest bit forced.

He knew that you missed the familiarity of home and the warmth of family and tradition. He had tried to get your parents out here instead, but it hadn’t worked out like he had hoped. It really would just be the two of you for Christmas. You had assured him that that was all you needed, and deep down, he knew you were telling the truth. Still, he wished he could do something more to make it feel like what you were used to.

It was a week before the holiday when the idea came to him. You were watching yet another Hallmark movie, set in a snowy mountain town that was fighting to keep a beloved bakery alive (or maybe it was a toy shop, the plot lines were all starting to blend together for him), and you made an off hand comment about the likelihood of ever seeing snow while living in California. It was nearly two AM as you both slept in bed under a green and red duvet when his eyes popped open and he shot up to grab his laptop, suddenly knowing exactly what he could do.

Javy spent the next several days feverishly planning, making calls and sending emails in between hops and classes. He felt like a kid trying to keep the ultimate Christmas present a surprise, giddy with excitement. It was a gamble, the forecast changing almost by the hour, but he was confident it would be worth it.

Coming home from work at lunch time on the 23rd, he was practically vibrating with anticipation. You were in the kitchen transferring cookies into a tin from a baking sheet when he walked through the door, the condo smelling like chocolate and sugar. Michael Buble played in the background, and he couldn’t help but watch you for a moment before he announced his presence.

“Hey baby,” he said. You spun to face him, and he could see the touch of melancholy in your eyes.

“Hey you.”

He crossed the room to wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel the way your body relaxed against his. He held you tighter. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” he whispered into your hair, and you giggled as you pulled away to look at him, your smile warm and sincere. He felt a flutter that he was able to do that.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” you returned, raising on your toes to kiss him. He could taste your peppermint chapstick on your lips.

“I have something for you,” he said, and your eyebrow raised in question. He shot you a wink and squeezed your hips before he stepped away. He practically jogged over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, grabbing one of the boxes he had placed there earlier this week and hurrying back to you. He held it out to you with a dramatic bow, causing another laugh to escape from between your pretty lips. “For you, m’lady.”

“You’re such a dork,” you said, but there was fondness laced through your voice, and Javy just smiled. You took the box from him, running your finger over the shimmering gold wrapping paper. You looked at the gift wistfully before looking back at him. “It’s not Christmas yet.”

“An early gift. Come on, open it. For me?”

You rolled your eyes at his exaggerated puppy dog expression that he played up just for you. With a sigh that quickly turned into an excited grin, you tore into the paper. He laughed as you did, knowing that no matter how hard you tried to hide it, you loved presents.

He could tell you were confused when you pulled out the soft, fluffy scarf, followed by the matching beanie, both in a dark forest green that he knew you favored.

“These are so nice, baby. I love them. But it’s 70 degrees outside right now?”

Javy nodded, not bothering to fight the smile that was taking over his face. “Yeah, but it’s colder up in the mountains. So you might need to bundle up.”

You looked up at him in shock, your eyes widening with each passing second. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I rented us a cabin up in Big Bear. It’s just for a couple of days, but I thought maybe we could get away just the two of us. Maybe get some snow and have a white Christmas after all, if the weather pulls through. But at least a colder one, just like you like.”

You were staring at him with a mix of disbelief and pure joy, and Javy knew he had made the right decision in surprising you. He mentally captured the look on your face right now, wanting to keep it as a memory forever.

“Javy…”

It wasn’t often that you were speechless, and he couldn’t help the laugh he let out as he asked, “Are you surprised?”

Instead of answering, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight. You wrapped your legs around him when he lifted you off your feet and pulled back just far enough to kiss him soundly.

“This is the best gift ever,” you whispered against his lips. “I love you.”

You were on the road within the next two hours, the presents from under your tree all packed up in the car as well as the cookies you had just freshly baked. It was almost a three hour drive and by the time he was winding his truck up the mountain side, the sun was setting. You were leaning as far as you could against the window, eyes glued on the outdoor landscape. A thin sheen of snow lined the ground, and you could see the faint shine of Christmas lights from tucked away houses.

Javy reached over to take your hand, lacing your fingers together. You turned to him smiling, and he felt his heart swell. He knew that this was exactly what you needed.

He helped you out of the car once he parked in the small driveway, and he could see the awe written all over your face. The cabin was wooden and cozy, the outside completely decked out in twinkling lights. He could see through the windows that the inside had lights on, too, and he knew the request he had put in with the rental company to have all the Christmas lights up and turned on at the time of arrival had been fulfilled.

“Oh, baby,” you breathed, spinning in a slow circle once you walked through the front door. The cabin itself was small, a studio set up where every room flowed together with ease and little separation, but it was decorated just as extravagantly as the condo, only moreso, somehow, with the mountain environment and cabin feel adding a deeper element of festivity.

“This is beautiful,” you said softly. Javy dropped the bags by the door and closed the small distance between you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his breath warm against your ear. "I know Christmas looks a little different this year. So I wanted to make it special for you."

You turned in his arms to look at him, eyes shining with tears. “You make everything special,” you told him, and he could hear the conviction in your voice that made it so he couldn’t help but believe you. "Thank you," you whispered. "This means everything to me." You kissed him, and Javy held you close, his hand stroking your back in a soothing rhythm.

You kept things simple that night, making an easy dinner and then cuddling up on the small couch in front of the fireplace to watch a movie. He insisted on something not Hallmark, and you didn’t fight him at all, laughing as you threw on The Santa Clause instead.

The next day, the two of you went all out on modified versions of your family’s Christmas traditions. You made an absolute feast for breakfast, full of way too many carbs and way too much sugar that you both ate happily and without a care in the world. You baked even more cookies, and Javy discovered that he had quite the talent for decorating them. The two of you laughed and teased each other as you both tried to outdo each other’s designs, and he kissed your pout away when you eventually conceded defeat.

“You’re too perfect. It’s actually ridiculous.”

You went for a walk in the early afternoon, bundled up in coats you never got use out of in San Diego. You wore the scarf and hat that he got for you and kept your hand in his the entire way. When you got back to the cabin, noses and fingers cold, you started cooking a meal that was way too much for two people. Normally that was reserved for Christmas day, but you’d have to head back home tomorrow night so you were modifying everything just the slightest bit to accommodate while still making it a trip to remember.

You sipped sweet red wine together after dinner, trading stories about holidays as kids, when you gasped loudly, jumping up from the couch. He looked at you in concern as you practically sprinted to the window.

“Baby, what-”

“Javy, it’s snowing!”

The wonder in your voice was palpable. He got up and joined you at the window, watching the snowflakes fall gently to the ground in the dark, reflecting off of the array of outdoor lights. It was a beautiful sight, truly.

“Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas after all,” he said, his voice low and husky as he wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into him, smiling contentedly. You just stood and watched for a few minutes before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Want to go outside?”

You turned to face him, the excitement in your eyes evident. “Yes!” you exclaimed, already grabbing your coat and shoes. Javy chuckled at your enthusiasm, but really, he was just as excited as you were.

The air was crisp and cold, but you hardly seemed to notice as you twirled around in the falling snow. He just watched you for a moment, content with the spectacle he was witnessing. You slipped just the slightest bit on your next spin, and Javy caught you, holding you steady as you started to giggle uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but smile at your joy, feeling his own heart warm at the sight.

“Careful,” he playfully admonished. You just sighed happily as you settled against him.

“Never thought I’d get a white Christmas in California,” you whispered.

Javy’s pulse picked up as he thought about one of the gifts he had for you, suddenly desperate to give it to you. He swallowed thickly as he kissed your cold cheek. “Let’s head back in.”

You showered together, the hot water helping you regain some of the warmth you had lost from your unexpected snow excursion. You poured glasses of wine as he set some cookies on a plate for you to share, and the two of you settled in front of the Christmas tree. You eyed the gifts eagerly; it was nearing midnight now, and neither of you wanted to wait until morning.

You took turns opening the handful of gifts you got each other, swapping stories and reasonings behind them as you did. Plenty of laughs and kisses were exchanged as you went, and before he knew it, you were both surrounded by wrapping and tissue paper.

Looking at you now, basked in the tree lights and the glow of the lit candles scattered throughout the room, the fireplace crackling in the corner, he knew there wouldn't be a better time than right now. He cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention from the custom puzzle he had made for you of one of your favorite pictures.

“I have one more gift for you,” he murmured, and his heart started racing wildly in his chest as he reached behind the tree, lifting the tree skirt to grab the small box he had hid underneath it. It was beautifully wrapped, adorned with a silky green ribbon and a small gold bell. Your eyes widened as you looked from the box to his eyes, and he could see the question written all over your face. His heart leaped in his chest as you took it from him, your fingers brushing his before smoothing over the elegant paper, different from what the rest of your gifts had been wrapped in.

“Javy,” you breathed. “Is this…?”

“Open it,” he urged, a small smile playing on his lips. You slowly undid the ribbon, setting it aside and then gently running your finger beneath the tape to get the paper off, showing a delicacy you hadn’t before.

You gasped when the velvet black box was revealed, and when you met his eyes again, there were tears lining yours.

“Go ahead, open it,” he encouraged, his eyes dancing with anticipation.

You bit your lip through the smile he could see appearing, staring at him for a long moment, before you finally looked back down. With a deep, shaky breath you snapped the box open. He held his breath as he waited for your reaction, only for his stomach to drop when, instead of the radiant smile and excitement he was so confident you would have, your eyebrows furrowed together, a frown contorting your features. You looked not only confused, but heartbroken.

“I don’t understand.”

“What?” he asked, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. “What do you mean?”

Without saying anything, you turned the open box to face him. Javy felt horror course through him when he looked down to see that the ring box, which was supposed to be housing a shiny, sparkling engagement ring that he just knew you would be in love with, was completely empty. And instead of the name of the jewelry store staring back at him on the silk lining of the inside lid, the LSU logo from the box that at one point held his class ring that was on his hand was staring back at him instead. It took his mind a moment to really register the implications of that, and the groan he let out was long and drawn out.

“Oh my God,” he said as he smacked his forehead, “I’m an idiot.”

You still looked confused, but maybe a little less heartbroken as you cleared your throat. “Huh?”

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he pleaded, and he scrambled to grab your hands, sliding himself closer to you on the floor. He knocked the offensive empty box to the ground.

“I kept your ring it in my sock drawer-”

“Real original.”

“Thank you, I know,” he responded without missing a beat, “But I also keep my class ring box in there, and I must have grabbed the wrong one when you were in the shower before we left yesterday. I had looked at the ring so many times that I swore the hinges on the damn box were gonna snap so I made myself keep it closed and oh my god-”

You cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head and wiping at the tears in your eyes. “Javy, it’s okay,” you said.

But it wasn’t, not to him at least. He had planned this whole getaway so meticulously and the proposal had been something he had been thinking about for so long. He had bought your ring months ago, and had been so excited to give it to you.

“No,” he shook his head, “it’s not okay. This was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it. I’m so sorry,” he apologized again.

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “It’s not ruined,” you said firmly. “I mean, yeah, this wasn’t exactly how you planned it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you or the fact that I want to be with you forever.”

“I just wanted it to be special,” he muttered, still feeling embarrassed. He imagined he would for a good long while.

You smiled at him, that sweet tug of your lips that has damn near brought him to his knees since the very beginning. You rubbed your thumb across his cheek, giggling softly. You leaned in to press a kiss to his lips.

“I don’t care about the ring, Javy. I care about you. And this is perfect.”

He looked at you, tears stinging his eyes. A grin slowly spread on his face as he processed your words. “Are you saying yes?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

You grinned right back at him, shrugging playfully. “Are you asking?”

Javy couldn't contain the emotion that coursed through him. The empty ring box was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Laughter bubbled up between you. "Yes! Yes, I'm asking!"

Your eyes sparkled when you pulled away, and you looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. It took him a second through the excitement to realize why, and he felt his face heat with embarrassment again. "Oh! Right. Right. Baby, I love you. And I had a whole speech planned, but it doesn't feel like it matters anymore. All that matters is me and you, yeah?" You nodded, tears in your eyes, and Javy felt as calm as he had all night just from the look you were giving him. "Marry me?"

You kissed him again, your lips molding perfectly against his. He had to rank it as one of the best kisses the two of you had ever shared together. “Yes,” you breathed, your noses brushing together as you nodded fervently. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

You squealed at the sudden movement as he scooped you up into his arms as he stood. He spun you around once, twice, your shared laughter filling the small, warm space. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he held you, trusting him not to drop you. He knew the smile on his face must have been ridiculous - his cheeks were starting to ache by the constant pull.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. He kissed you again, and you returned it eagerly. You moaned into his mouth as he carried you the few steps to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you.

He made love to you slowly, his hands roaming every inch of your body, caressing and exploring with a tenderness that matched what he was feeling. He savored every breath and every touch. There was no rush as you moved together. The tree lights glowed and the fireplace crackled, and it was like just the two of you existed, tucked away from the rest of the world. You clutched at him as he expertly brought you to the edge.

You lay cuddled up with him afterward, your head on his chest as his stayed wrapped around you, holding you close.

The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the sound of your steady breathing and the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Javy traced lazy patterns on the bare skin of your back, his touch gentle and loving. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner, snow was still slowly falling outside, and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told him it was after midnight at that point. He pressed a kiss to your head, sighing in content.

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart."

-----------

Main Masterlist

Notes: This was incredibly self indulgent. I actually love him so much, it's unhealthy. Hope you enjoyed this one!

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help as usual, and to Mak for the absolutely stunning banner.

#alli writes #winterromcomchallenge #javy machado x reader #javy machado #javy machado x you #javy machado imagine #javy coyote machado #javy machado fic #javy machado smut #javy machado fluff #javy machado appreciation #javy coyote machado x you #coyote x you #coyote x reader #javy coyote machado x reader #tgm fic #top gun fanfiction

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roger-that-cap · 2 months ago

Text

running back to home base (you)

chapter one (1/4)

destiel highschool/college/work AU

Summary: Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester are high school best friends. And then they are lovers. After that, they are strangers, ripped apart by Dean’s stubbornness, stupidity, and lack of acceptance of his own self. When Dean comes across Castiel again years after they both graduate college and have their own lives, he’s hit with a solid understanding of just how miserable he really is, and how badly he fucked up. Especially when Castiel is absolutely thriving, and just as beautiful as the last time they saw each other.

Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester were as thick as thieves. They had been that way since freshman year of high school, and Castiel still didn’t understand what exactly made Dean take him under his wing.

Castiel was sheltered. He grew up in boarding schools with people just like him, with money to burn and odd parents who either cared too much or nowhere near enough. High school was the first time he was ever in public school, and it was very obvious that he was an oddball. He was sure that he was off putting, even Gabe had warned him to maybe smile instead of just watching people, but Dean sat right next to him in their English class, anyway.

He remembered that first day they met like it was yesterday. It was the very first day of freshman year. Dean shot him a grin, asked his name, and smoothly told him his own name like he had never once heard of first day jitters. He had also announced that he was on the varsity baseball team as a freshman, and he was proud of it. Castiel didn’t understand the hype, but it was obvious that their peers were in awe about it. So, he had just nodded and filed it in his brain that it was an achievement.

The first few weeks between them were awkward. Cas didn’t speak unless spoken to (which was actually a lot because Dean never shut up), but he realized eventually that Dean was actually a nice kid. Maybe a little too confident, but he was nice. He never made fun of Cas, never gave him strange looks or asked where he came from. He treated Castiel like he didn’t just fall out of the sky and into their small town, which meant that he was more than okay in Castiel’s books.

The first time they ever talked outside of class was when Dean came up to him at lunch. Castiel had been annotating his personal copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, very obviously deep into it with his earbuds in and all, and Dean had waltzed up anyway with that stupid, goofy grin. “Hey, did you read the book last night?”

Immediately, Castiel had been a little peeved. This kid had broken his quiet, peaceful lunch for absolutely no reason other than to try to get his answers for work he didn’t do. He glared at Dean. “I’m not going to help you cheat. And I’m not giving you the answers.”

Dean frowned. “Answers? I don’t want your answers, I want to talk about it,” he said, plopping down next to him. “Poor Lennie, right? I can’t believe this!”

For a moment, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t think Dean was stupid or anything, but every time Dean had spoken in class up to that point, it was about some movie or TV show that Castiel had yet to watch. Or even worse, baseball. He never wanted to talk about school, so Castiel had determined that it just wasn’t his thing.

“I mean… yes,” Cas had said slowly. “It’s very sad.”

“What are you listening to?” Dean asked, and he tapped on Castiel’s phone screen. Before Castiel could scold Dean about touching other people’s things, Dean’s brows raised. “Uh, you know this song is about a stalker?”

“Every breath you take” was playing on his phone. It was one of his favorites. It was a song Gabriel used to play as a joke, but it became one of the songs Castiel played the most, and one of the ones that had him wishing he was as skilled at music as he was with a pen or a paintbrush.

“Yes, it’s obviously about someone watching another person very closely,” Cas said, and Dean cracked a smile. “But that doesn’t make it any less good.”

“It’s all good, I like the song too,” Dean said, and then in another breach of personal space, he took Castiel’s earbud and put it right in his own ear. “We all share music on the bus,” he justified, and then to Castiel’s surprise, he jumped right into the lyrics.

After a few moments of watching Dean shamelessly mouth the lyrics, Castiel started to mumble them back, both inspired by his lack of boundaries and confused by them.

And then, as if Dean had cracked open a vault full of gold, he beamed. They finished the song together.

And that had started it all.

That very moment had somehow led to Castiel going to a game or two just to see what it was all about, after a time or two do Dean talking him into showing up. He discovered that Dean was actually very good at baseball, just as Dean himself and everyone else had been raving about. And even though the rules never seemed to stick in Castiel’s head, he enjoyed watching Dean play.

They turned out to be very compatible friends. That evolved into them sitting next to each other at lunch every day. Then Castiel was going to his house whether that was to study or just talk. That was how he met Sam, Dean’s sweet, tall, considerate younger brother who was very smart. He was a good kid, and even though Dean teased him at times, it was obvious he loved Sam to pieces.

As the years went on and Dean got more and more friends, Castiel always had a seat on the right side of him. Their interactions kept snowballing, and before either of them could understand it, they were always together. And before any of them could stop it, they were stealing glances at each other, subtle hearts and stars lingering in their eyes.

The stolen glances changed into something more, too. It went from looking at each other and then looking away to holding each other’s stares until one of them (usually Cas) couldn’t bear it anymore. It went from sitting on the bed far apart to being close enough to touch thighs, and then Dean’s hand hovering over Cas’s. By the end of freshman year, it was obvious to the both of them that there was something other than friendship going on between the two of them, even if it remained unspoken out loud.

The spring of sophomore year changed everything. Cas was going to every game that he could make at that point, just as Dean went to all of his art shows and book competitions. There was one game, one of the last games of the season, where Dean was so happy that he pulled him away and behind the bleachers. For a moment, the look in Dean’s eyes was so wild that Castiel was sure that Dean was on a high, and just like in the movies, they shared a kiss in the middle of May, hidden away from everyone and everything besides the buzzing beehive under the bleachers.

After the kiss, it still took three weeks for them to put a label on things. That label came on one of the first days of summer, and Castiel felt like he had gained angel wings because he was so excited. After a long time, Dean Winchester was his boyfriend. His boyfriend.

They spent that whole summer together, just the two of them. Sometimes Sam would tag along, definitely suspecting something, but never bold enough to ask his brother about a thing. It was perfect. And as stupid as every high schooler was, Castiel had been so sure that the perfect summer world they had built together would last forever.

The cruel hands of time led them to college applications and acceptances. They both got into the same school, and after they practically jumped up and down over that, they both committed to going. Dean wasn’t happy with Castiel at first, because he knew that Castiel could have done “more”. But what was “more” without his best friend? It worked for the both of them, having the exact majors they needed and the programs, too. So, they would go to school together, and Castiel thought that it couldn't have worked out any better.

The summer after high school was their best yet. It was full of laughter and affection and swimming and talking about their future and kissing and love, and it was glorious.

And then it was time to pack up and head to school.

It hadn’t come to a screeching halt, though. There was a week left of summer that was full of family visits, and his favorite- a sendoff party.

Castiel hadn’t ever heard of a sendoff party, but if any family were to do it for their child, of course it would be the Winchesters. Dean was going to the same school as he was, just an hour and some change down the road, but Mary Winchester was as celebratory as she had been at their graduation, somehow equally proud of them both. Castiel always felt grateful that Mary treated him as her own on more occasions than one. Gabriel was a great brother, but it was obvious that Castiel was missing a supportive mother figure in his life, and Mary had been kind enough to fill that ever since Cas first came to the house. John wasn’t mean, he was just a tired man who spent most of him time grunting or paying attention to his children when there were accomplishments. He was nice enough to Cas, but Mary was kind, and very inclusive.

And that was what led him to blowing out candles on a cake, standing next to his favorite Winchester of all, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, uh, can we talk?”

Castiel was still smiling. The smoke from the candles on his cake was lingering in his nose, and he noticed that Dean hadn’t even blown his candle out yet. He nudged him. “Make a wish.” Dean just stared at Castiel for a moment, and then after a few long seconds, he leaned down and blew out his candle.

The kitchen erupted in applause and congratulations, and Castiel couldn’t stop grinning. He graduated, and he was going to college. They both were. It was on to the next thing. They could finally leave town, finally be bigger and better than what they had been confined to. Dean could be more than baseball, and Castiel could… he just could be himself. He was ready to grow, and he was ready to watch Dean grow, too.

He could feel Dean hovering around him awkwardly, which was funny, because usually it was Castiel who was the awkward one in a crowd. Castiel was always Dean’s little shadow, the shadow that Dean always thrusted forward regardless, the shadow Dean forced to be side by side with him, shown as his equal.

They ate the cake, which was half vanilla for Cas and half chocolate for Dean, and Castiel talked animatedly to Mary, who was still gushing over his perfect GPA and the fact that he was third in his class, to which he was perfectly excited about. That meant he hadn’t had to do a speech.

He could feel Dean. It was a talent of his that he had acquired in their second year of being best friends. He was good at sensing when Dean was having a bad day, or when he was having negative thoughts. He was good at it, and he knew for a fact that there was something wrong with Dean.

He wasn’t sure exactly what his problem was, but he wasn’t eating his cake with as much vigor as he usually ate desserts. It wasn’t pie, but it was still cake, so Dean should have been excited to shovel forkfuls of it. But he wasn’t. He was pushing it around his plate and looking around like someone was watching him.

“Can we talk?” Dean asked again after a few more pushes of his cake, and Castiel turned to look at him, really look at him.

He looked nervous. Dean was never nervous. Even when he was, he always had this air of confidence that couldn’t be disputed. He always brought calmness and content wherever he went, and he was so cool and handsome that he could have been a model on a magazine. He could have been a statue, made of strong, beautiful marble. That was Dean. That had always been Dean.

“Sure,” he said softly, still giving him a small smile, and they walked down the hallway together.

Castiel was sure that Dean was nervous about being away from home. He had never been away from Sam or his parents before. Meanwhile, Castiel had been sent to boarding schools until high school. Cas was used to being away from his awful parents, he thrived on it, but Dean was different.

The bedroom door shut, and the second Castiel took a seat in the middle of the bed like he always did, Dean turned to look at him with apprehension written all over his beautiful face.

“I don’t think we should hang out anymore.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For a moment, the words bounced around in his head, ringing like a bell and bouncing off the thick walls of his skull. It was all coming crashing down in front of him at once, in the middle of their joint fucking going away party, and all Castiel could do was blink.

“What, Dean?” He managed to grind out, and he saw the look on the other boy’s face, and his heart sank. That was the look that Dean got when he was about to pull away.

“I said, I don’t think it’s good for us to hang out anymore. After this,” he amended, and Castiel watched his face closely.

Hang out. What an immature way to describe what they were doing. Like they were twelve years old and neighbors, playing games on a console until it was time to walk home. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said,” Dean said snippily, and Castiel swallowed at the sharp tone. Dean rarely ever spoke to him like that. That was how Dean sounded when he felt like he was backed into a corner. “I don't…maybe we just shouldn’t.”

Castiel’s mind was racing. He needed a reason. “Is your dad making you say this?”

“No, Cas,” Dean said quickly, but Castiel narrowed his eyes anyway. John wasn’t openly terrible, but he hadn’t acknowledged what was blatantly in front of him, and Castiel was sure it was because he didn’t want to. “I just- we shouldn’t.”

Usually, Castiel wouldn’t pry. He wouldn’t even get close to begging for someone to speak to him, let alone about their feelings. Even worse, Dean. But he had to. “Why not?”

Dean sighed, but instead of sounding bored, his breath was shaky. “We’re going to college, Castiel. I’m gonna be busy, you’re gonna be busy, we’ll hardly get to see each other-”

All Castiel could see were the decorations in the living room, the dark red and the white, the colors of the school they were going to together. “We committed to the same school-”

“I’ll be doing baseball and you- you have all your art stuff,” Dean paused his rambling, and it was enough time for the words to settle in and for Castiel to start feeling his heart slowly shatter, “and you’ll probably join a writing club. We won’t have time-”

“We’ve always made time before.”

“I’m not good at school and I don’t want to drag you down-”

“Dean, you know I’ll help you with your school work, now what’s actually wrong?” Castiel asked, and for the first time in a while, he was outwardly bewildered. “You’re giving excuses.”

Castiel saw the moment Dean’s walls, the walls that took years for him to tear down brick by brick, go back up. “What, I’m not allowed to break-to say I want a break from us being around each other?”

“You are, of course you are,” Castiel said calmly, “but this makes no sense, Dean. We’re both smarter than this, and you know that excuses are stupid and they’re not fair. So what’s going on?”

There was a pause. That pause scared Castiel, because Dean was rarely ever silent. Unless he was eating. But a silent Dean in a serious conversation meant that there was about to be a bomb dropped on the both of them.

“I’m just ready to turn over another leaf, Cas.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Castiel watched as Dean took in a long breath, one that was uncharacteristically shaky considering how pseudo confident Dean always was, and he held a breath of his own, because he knew that whatever came next was about to rip his world apart.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Ow. Fuck. That hurt. But Castiel just blinked and breathed in real slow through his nose, like that would curb the pain. He nodded his head once and ignored the slight shake of his hands. He prayed Dean would, too. “Okay. Can I ask why?”

Dean looked like he wanted to do anything but answer as he shrugged. His shrug made it look like his shoulders alone weighed a hundred pounds. “I don’t… I just don’t want to be known as the gay guy.”

Castiel frowned. If anything, that was him. Dean was still the cool baseball guy that just so happened to have the weird little art guy following him around. Castiel was the gay guy who just fell into being Dean Winchester’s “best friend” in the eyes of those who didn’t look close enough.

“And I can’t… I can’t be with you if that’s not what I want. How I want to be seen.”

It shouldn’t have surprised Castiel. Dean had never openly claimed him, never openly defended him beyond how a friend would. But that was all to outsiders. That was when Dean had a front on. That was how Dean showed himself to everyone else.

But there Dean was right in front of him, tearing down every banner they had ever hung on their shitty little castle that was never built to withstand the rain and wind. He was ripping it all down and putting up shutters, hiding from the one person who was always allowed in on the other side of the walls.

“So… you don’t want anyone to know that you’re gay?”

Dean made a face. “It… it’s not like that.”

“You want to break up with me so that people can’t see us together,” Castiel said slowly, like every word was glass on his tongue, “because we’re both men.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“That's exactly what you just said, Dean,” Castiel said, and he looked toward the closed bedroom door as if he could see through it and make sure no one was listening. “You don’t want to be seen with me.”

“Cas, you’re my best friend in the whole world-”

“I’m your boyfriend, Dean.”

Dean flinched.

“Dean, I’m your boyfriend. I have been for a long time. Ever since we kissed under the bleachers, you know this.”

And Dean did know it. It was something that they had laughed about plenty of times. They laughed about how nervous they had both been for no reason, how shy that they had been despite having a gut feeling, just knowing, how the other felt.

“Cas I just-” Dean closed his eyes for a moment. “I realized that I can’t love you how you want me to, alright?”

That knocked the breath out of Castiel. “What?”

“I’m not like you,” Dean said, and Cas noticed that he was shaking, too. “I’m not. And you can’t make me be, okay? I can’t love you like that. I just- it doesn’t work that way.”

“You don’t love me?”

“Not in that way,” Dean said, and Castiel would have had to be deaf to not hear his voice breaking. “Not… romantically.”

Flashbacks flew through the shorter boy’s mind quicker than ever. He saw them laughing together, holding hands, looking at the stars late at night and sneaking out of the house just to swim in the lake. He remembered them playing house together while his parents were gone. He could see images of the two of them staring into each other's eyes and then leaning in to kiss like they were magnets. He remembered their hands in each other’s pants for the first time and taking off their shirts like they fucking had to, kissing like their last breaths were in each other’s lips. He remembered all the art shows and how Dean never missed an exhibit, or how he always went to Dean’s games. He remembered the trips they took in the summer and the birthdays and the holidays and getting so close with Sam like it was meant to be and the job at the ice cream shop that they both worked at together simply because it was the only job that let them constantly be on the schedule at the same time-

“You don’t love me romantically?”

Dean looked like he was about to scream in his childhood home. He looked the smallest that Castiel had ever seen him, beaten down by his own fists. “No. Not like that. I can’t.”

Castiel wanted to drag it out. He wanted to ask why. He wanted to do the whole “so that’s it” thing, but he knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. Not with Dean. And not with himself, either. He knew the look in Dean’s eyes well enough to know that he would get nothing more, at least nothing that wouldn’t drive him crazy.

He would be getting nothing more from Dean, at all. And he couldn’t help him, either.

“Dean, if you can’t accept who you are,” Castiel said slowly, shaking his head, “all you’re going to do is hurt yourself.”

Dean took a step back like his words had burned through his chest and into his heart. “You don’t get it, Cas.”

“I do, Dean. I’m gay. And so are you. At the very least, you like men.” Dean shook his head, and Cas wasn’t sure if he was disputing a claim that wasn’t even his, or if he was blocking out the entire conversation. “You’re only denying yourself-”

Dean’s jaw was sharp as he shook his head one more time. “Shut up.”

“You are,” Cas insisted. “And that’s that. You’ll figure it out eventually, Dean, but I really hope that the fall doesn’t hurt as badly as I’m sure it will.” Castiel turned on his heel, intent on leaving Dean before the heartbreak bled into his expression and his words.

He got about three paces away before he heard Dean speak again. “Are you mad because I said I can’t love you?”

“No, Dean,” Castiel said, turning just his head to look at Dean, who was tense standing there, looking seconds away from falling apart. “I’m upset because you’re saying you can’t love yourself.” He forced himself to look at Dean one last time, right into his green eyes, eyes that never cried but were surely shining right then. “Goodbye, Dean.”

Castiel beelined out of Dean’s bedroom, and as he heard people laughing and celebrating their graduation in the living room, he forced himself to act like he hadn’t just left Dean’s room for the last time.

He was thankful that he was blessed with the art of the poker face as he faked a headache, thanking everyone for letting him join the party. There wasn’t a person that could tell there was something wrong with him, but Mary looked at him strangely, like she could see right through him, but she let him go without saying a word about it. She hugged him tighter than usual. John waved goodbye, as nonchalantly as ever.

Castiel was ready to go home. He was seconds away from running, genuinely breaking out into a sprint just to get away and get home. He was so ready that he almost forgot about Sam, who seemed to have spawned out of nowhere right by the front door.

“Cas?” Sam asked, frowning, and Castiel could already see the hesitation in his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my house,” he said calmly, when in reality, all he wanted to do was bawl his eyes out, possibly even scream, but Sam had done nothing to him. He would always think of Sam as his family, despite what his older brother had done.

Despite what he wouldn't do.

Sam tilted his head to the side. “But this is your send off party, too,” he pointed out. “You can stay for as long as you want, I’m sure Dean would want you to.”

Castiel was sure of it before that conversation, too. He had been very sure. After so many touches and words and kisses, he was sure Dean wanted Castiel to follow him anywhere, and that he would have even followed him. But Dean’s teeth were extra sharp to make up for the softness of his lips, and Dean always managed to bite the gentle hand that fed him.

“It’s alright, Sam. I’ll uh, I’ll see you later, okay?”

Sam was younger, but he was so observant. It was something Castiel had admired in the boy, especially when it was paired with his intelligence and eagerness to learn. But now, as it was just the two of them by the front door, it made him uneasy. Sam’s stare pinned him into place, and Cas waited for whatever Sam wanted to say to hit him in the chest, just like his older brother's words had just moments before.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

That was a weird thing for Sam to say, and he had never said it before. That sounded an awful lot like a resolute goodbye. And as Castiel stood there and watched Sam blink back tears, he knew that they both knew Castiel wouldn’t be coming back.

“I’ll see you around, Sam.” And then Castiel opened the door and walked out of the Winchester’s house, and he made sure that he never turned back to look.

Under any other circumstances, Castiel would have hated moving all of his stuff. He would have hated the packing and the boxes and the shopping for shower caddies. He would have despised buying pots and pans and labeling them and all the other things that he realized were expensive only after swiping his own card. It all would have felt like a tedious chore but as time went on, he welcomed it as a nice distraction.

Dean would have had about ten people helping him move all of his things, and people buying him stuff, too. He would have had his whole family and his cousins and probably even boys from the team. He would have had so much help and positivity around him, and that was something Castiel had never been jealous of before moving almost on his own.

Gabriel, even though it was just him, ended up being a big help. He had always been the best older brother, the only one willing to move to a new area just so that Castiel could be normal for a few years before he got out of school and into the real world. Gabe was always Castiel’s best support system, and it was no different as they moved him into his dorm.

He was enough to make Castiel break a smile every now and then, to take him out of his thoughts with thoughts of something so incredibly stupid that he had to do a double take. Gabriel was funny, but Gabriel also was extremely aware that something happened. And he was too talkative for his own good.

So, as Castiel and his older brother unpacked the last box, Gabriel looked at Castiel with eyes that were less full of their casual mischief and more full of concern, and it made Cas bite his tongue, bracing for impact.

“So, you two are done?”

The ache in his chest got worse instantly, and for a moment, he was hoping that he could just not respond and it all would go away. But Gabriel was still there, watching him silently, waiting for an answer that would surely tear its way out of Castiel’s soul.

“I’m not sure if we ever were anything,” Castiel said quietly, but the words sounded like a bomb going off in his own ears.

“What?”

“I’m not sure if we were anything at all,” Castiel repeated, and Gabriel frowned, just looking at him. Watching.

“Don’t let him do that,” Gabe scolded, and Castiel cocked a brow.

“Do what?”

“Don’t let him write the narrative about what you were just because he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on with himself,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t let him make you think that what you two had was insignificant.”

For a moment, Castiel was shocked. It wasn’t like Gabe to be so profound, or to say something that didn’t circle back to something that was somewhat a joke at least once. “I… he’s not. I guess I was just thinking back on it-”

“That dumbass was definitely your boyfriend,” Gabriel said, sipping on his Coke, “and you’re going through a breakup. Taking it really well, I might say,” he added, and Castiel looked away.

Gabe knew about the breakup, but he had no idea why it happened. Cas figured it was better to explain in person right then and there than over the phone in a week or so while he broke down crying, so he sighed.

“He broke up with me because he didn’t want to be seen as gay.”

Gabe was silent for a moment, and then Cas looked back at his older brother. His eyes were narrowed. “How odd.” There was a pause. “Does he know that it’s college and it’s a huge school and no one gives a shit if anyone’s gay here? Like, at all?”

Castiel sighed. “It was more than that, Gabriel. Deeper than that. I saw the look in his eyes. There was nothing I could have said to get him to change his mind. Nothing I say was going to reassure him.”

“It’s a personal issue,” Gabe agreed. “That’s all on him. And I honestly feel very sorry for Dean.” That was odd. He had never called Dean by his name, not since he and Cas started running around together. And he almost never said that he was sorry, not for his own actions, not for others. Gabriel was being wholeheartedly serious.

“Why?”

“Because Dean is so in love with you, to the point where quite literally everyone close to you guys knows it. And he’s going to shit a thousand bricks once he realizes that he fucked up.” He sipped his soda again. “But, he’ll realize a long time from now. I can see it already.”

“I doubt it, Gabriel.”

Gabriel put his soda down, and then with another one of those rare, serious looks, he nailed Castiel with a glare. “Cassie, mark my words. In about ten years, you’ll run into him somehow, some way. And he’s gonna lose it.”

Castiel wasn’t sure if he even wanted that idea in his head. He didn’t want the hope. He couldn’t afford it. He just… he couldn’t. It was a comfort that may or may not have been real, and he couldn’t cope with any more rugs being pulled out from under him.

“But he did you a favor, honestly. Now isn’t the time to be tied down. Freshman year!” Gabe practically shouted, and Castiel flinched a bit. “Have fun. Go to clubs. Go on dates. Get laid. Stay safe though, please. Be free and all that. Be a young adult.”

“I…” Castiel started, and by the time he knew his throat was closing up, it was already too late to stop the tears. “I don’t know how to do any of that without Dean,” he choked out. “He was the one with a hundred friends and- and all the invitations and- I can’t do this without him, Gabe.”

It hit him like a tower falling down on his head, bricks crushing him to bits. He started crying then and there in front of his brother, as close to sobbing his eyes out as he could get. He just stood there like a big baby, bawling his eyes out and covering his face as if that would shield him from judgement that was never going to come from Gabe in the first place.

A hand reached out, gentle yet grounding, and squeezed Cas’s shoulder. “You have something better,” Gabe said, and Castiel looked up, wiping his eyes. “You have the guts to be yourself. Without shame. And that’s worth so much more than a hundred friends who don’t really know you, Castiel.”

Castiel forced himself to nod. The words made sense, they really did, and they were just as calming as Gabriel’s energy in that moment as he swallowed and blinked back tears.

“You’re gonna be just fine.”

“I am,” Castiel confirmed, nodding his head again, and he let Gabriel’s words sink in. and he promised himself that he wouldn’t ever forget them.

So far, Castiel wasn’t the biggest fan of college. The university as a whole wasn't exactly his vibe, he wasn’t the biggest fan of some of his roommates (they were either dirty or rude), and it wasn’t as walkable as they had claimed it was when he first toured it.

Now, there were good points to it. He was in a great writing program with likeminded people, and he felt like he had finally found a small crowd to fit into. His favorite professor already liked him, and he had a single roommate that wasn’t insufferable. It all sounded perfect. When his mother called, he made it sound perfect. When Gabriel called, he let loose and complained a little. In his journal, he was mostly honest. He was missing something, and he was sure that anyone who knew him knew what it was.

He missed Dean.

Castiel was trying not to be too hard on himself regarding missing Dean. Dean Winchester was practically his other half for years, years before they ever kissed. Years. So as he closed his eyes holding a jersey that Dean had outgrown and given to him sophomore year, he let himself grieve.

Castiel had always seen their school colors as ugly. Green and blue, and some white thrown in the mix. Castiel was a color guy, he loved art, but the way that the jerseys looked never drew his eye in a good way. Unless Dean was in it. He remembered commenting on it one night after a baseball game went particularly well, and Dean was beaming under the sunset.

“I just can’t stand the colors,” he had said offhandedly, and he remembered the way Dean threw him an amused glance.

“Why not?”

“Too much blue,” he said, waving a hand over the jersey Dean was wearing.

“Well, I like it,” Dean had said, and Castiel nodded to himself, ready to hear about how Dean wanted to wear the green and blue for the rest of his life, because as far as he knew, Dean wanted to die with a bat in his hands. “The blue reminds me of you.”

Cas frowned. “Of me?”

“Well, your eyes,” Dean said casually, and Castiel remembered the way his heart skipped several beats then and there, and the way Dean kept walking like they were talking about the weather. “And my eyes are green. Green and blue go well together.”

They did. And Castiel was so convinced that they went together too, and that they would forever be immortalized by the stupid fucking jersey, the stupid fucking jersey that he was gripping in his hands like it was slipping through his fingers.

“Hey,” he heard, and he opened his eyes, still holding the jersey in his hands. It felt like holding ashes in his hands. He couldn’t bear to drop it, so he turned to look at Mick, the one roommate that wasn’t actually half bad. “We’re all going out and uh, did you want to get out of the apartment for a while?”

Gabriel would have wanted him to say yes. He would have been shouting at him to take the offer, actually. So, he put a smile on his face and nodded his head despite the fact that it took all of his energy to even think about carrying out conversations with anyone at any type of bar or club. He wasn’t even sure which was worse.

It took him no time at all to get ready. He never was one to take his clothes seriously, and he really had no reason to, because there wasn’t anyone he wanted to impress. He walked out awkwardly with his roommates, his supposedly new friends, and down the street to the bar. He already hated it as they laughed. Why were they laughing? What the hell was so funny? He knew what wasn’t funny, and it was eating him alive, grinding him up between teeth until he was nothing but mush.

By the time that they got their IDs checked and led into the glorified room with a dance floor and a bar, Castiel was already having to coach himself into not going home early. It was pathetic almost, but he kept hearing Gabe’s voice in his head, encouraging him to just stay out for the night. Just a few hours. And as the minutes went on and he nursed his first (and probably only) drink, he felt a little more at ease.

It took a few minutes for Castiel to realize that he was having an okay time. Usually whenever he went out, there was someone (Dean fucking Winchester) that built the bridge over the gap that was caused by his awkwardness. He didn’t have that safety net anymore, and that meant he was mostly standing off in the corner, watching his new roommates live their lives, laughing and dancing and taking shots.

That was fine by him. He liked to watch people. He liked watching the girl in the pink flush a similar color to her skirt when the boy she was talking to moved her hair to the side. He liked watching the two upperclassmen at the bar take a shot without flinching. He liked watching as a group of girls laughed and danced with each other, carefree and in their own worlds. As his eyes kept trailing around while he hardly even drank his own room temperature beer, they landed on something excruciatingly familiar.

He knew that back anywhere. He did. He would know it in the dark and under the blinding sunlight. He knew it with a shirt on or off, or wet from the ocean water. He knew it in a jersey or in a long sleeved shirt. And it was hunched forward, bent in the same way he imagined it looked from behind when they used to kiss.

His stomach dropped. He knew what he was seeing, who he was seeing. He understood it before his poor heart could catch up, and as if he needed more to fill in the blanks, the back turned to the side, and sure enough, there was a girl pushed up close to him, running her hands over his arms, kissing him right there.

Castiel’s brain fought its way to a conclusion as he stood there in shock. After three seconds of hardcore analysis, he blinked and forced himself to see it. Dean was in a college bar, making out with a girl who had dark hair, striking blue eyes that he could see even from afar, and sharp features. And if Castiel squinted a little, if he wanted to be self-absorbed, he would have thought that the girl looked a little like him. Castiel’s brows raised as it all settled in.

As if it was a joke from the universe, a familiar song started to play. He recognized the starting notes just as easily as he recognized Dean’s back, and the memories hit him instantly.

Every breath you take

No. It couldn’t be fucking real. He wasn’t living in the correct timeline, because why would the universe force him to watch Dean Winchester kiss a girl while their song played in the background? A song about-

The only option for Castiel was to leave. He had to leave quietly before he started to bawl on his very first night out. He had to get the hell out of there before Dean noticed him. And then, like he was in his own worst nightmare, Dean’s body straightened, and he turned his head as the girl kissed his neck. Castiel’s blue eyes met Dean’s green ones for the first time in what felt like years.

Dean looked like a deer in headlights. He was frozen as they looked at each other, stuck in time while the girl was completely oblivious to the sudden tension. They stared at each other from across the bar, and with his broken heart and all, all that Castiel could do was shrug.

Every game you play, every night you stay, I’ll be watching you

He saw Dean take a deep breath, one that reminded Castiel so much of all the ones he would take as he laid his head on his chest, listening to Dean’s heartbeat and his breaths and trying to sync their bodies together. He watched Dean exhale, and then with a nod that felt so heavy it nearly broke his neck, Castiel turned around and walked away, disappearing into the crowd and walking over to his roommates.

The one closest to him had a girl next to him, and he looked a little irritated as Cas walked up, but Castiel paid no mind. “I think I’m gonna head back,” he said over the music. “I have a headache.”

“Alright, man,” his roommate said, but he was clearly focused on the girl who was trying to drape herself over him. Castiel was grateful for it, because he probably would have seen the tears in his eyes if he had paid any more attention. He flew past everyone that he “knew” and right to the door, not even turning back as he ran away.

The walk to get there had been five minutes, but Castiel was fast. He turned it into a little under a minute, booking it down the street. He was running so fast, with so much clouding his mind, that he didn’t even realize it was beginning to drizzle. The drizzling turned into downpour just as fast as he approached his building, and his eyes were burning with tears as he chose to take the empty stairs rather than risk running into someone in the elevator.

Every step made his legs feel heavier, and made his heart ache travel even deeper into his soul. Every step was a step away from Dean, and away from the person he used to be when Dean loved him. His hope was torn to shreds in that very moment, and he knew that there was absolutely nothing that he could do for Dean Winchester.

But he would do himself a favor and leave his memories of Dean back home, where the other Winchesters still loved him, and where they used to have their whole lives ahead of them planted out onto different sides of the same path, running parallel with ivy growing from left and right and intertwining. Castiel was stumbling all through it, tripping with every step and cursing every single seed that he and Dean had ever placed into the ground together. And he had a feeling that he would be falling and getting back up for a long, long time.

********

hey! i'm writing again for real, i guess, because i have a destiel miniseries! never thought i would post again, let alone switch fandoms and do a miniseries. i'm so glad to be back even if it’s with a completely different group of people! there are so so so so so many talented destiel authors and i am so happy to contribute something (even if it’s shit) to the pile.

i'm excited yet nervous about this one (i love destiel so much that i will always be afraid to do them a disservice), so any and all feedback is worth so much to me! i hope you liked it 💕

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apomaro-mellow · 7 months ago

Text

Hot for Teacher(s) epilogue

Previously

"Do you think I'll make a good father?"

Steve looked up from his laptop at the question. Eddie was staring at the calendar on the kitchen wall, arms crossed. He turned his gaze to Steve when he took too long to answer.

"I don't know how to break it to you, but you already are a father. And a damn fine one at that."

"Well, Shawn's easy, you already did most of the training."

Steve snorted. "He hasn't even hit double digits yet. There's still plenty more training to go. And take it from someone who works at Puberty Central, it gets rough."

Eddie came behind Steve and leaned over to hug him from behind. "You think infants are easier than teens?"

"I think every age group has a unique set of challenges", Steve said.

"Spoken like a true educator."

--------------------------

Steve sighed as he finished turning down his room. Wrapping things up for summer always made him a little melancholy. But now that he was two months pregnant, there was an extra layer to it. Next year, he wouldn't be able to do this. If he was pushing it, he could stay in class until winter break. That might be too much for his body though.

He leaned back to crack his spine and put a hand to his belly. He was barely showing. It was possible to see a slight roundness from under his shirt though.

"Wait... you're pregnant?!"

"Dustin, why are you still here?", Steve tried to sound firm but he feared it may have come out as adoring. The few kids who had actually come on the last day of school were supposed to be in the auditorium, watching a movie.

"Mr. Clarke's letting us poach some stuff from his room he doesn't need anymore."

Ah, as Mr. Clarke usually did. Steve didn't even need him to clarify which 'us' Dustin meant. He had a crew he was pretty loyal to.

"Yes, Mr. Henderson. I'm pregnant."

"Does that mean you're not gonna teach us next year?"

Steve smiled at him. "It was already in the cards bud, I don't teach eighth grade."

"Yeah but I mean, you won't be here?"

He could sense the frustration in Dustin's voice and knew change could be hard. End of year always seemed to bring on big emotions, even if it was just moving from seventh to eight grade.

"I'll be here at the beginning of the year. But I'll have to get ready for this little scholar before you know it. And then there was the leave he got after having the pup. Still, their little bean was due in January, so Steve was sure he and Eddie could figure something out so that Steve didn't have to go too long without teaching while still getting some bonding time with his pup.

"You could've talked it over with your students first. I mean this seems like a pack decision", Dustin said, arms crossed.

"Sure kid. The next time I decide to have a pup, I'll run it through my students first."

"That's all I'm asking", Dustin said just as quick footsteps stopped to a skid and suddenly there wasn't one but a whole group of students in his doorway.

"Mr. H is pregnant?!"

--------------------------

Steve was fanning himself. It was July and he was trying to stand the heat for as long as he could, but it was getting to be too much. He turned to Eddie to complain to a sympathetic ear, only to see his mate looking at him with the most adoring expression.

"What?"

"You're glowing!", he gushed.

"I don't feel like it."

"Sweetheart, we can always head back inside. You don't have to fight the sun."

"I'm gonna be too big to feel like moving before we know it. Get ready to carry me everywhere", Steve said in a tone that suggested it was both a promise and a threat.

Eddie compromised by bring Steve another ice cold lemonade. Shawn was having the time of his life playing with the other kids as the neighborhood block party went on. He deserved to revel in the summertime just as other kids.

--------------------------

Hot summer days turned to warm summer nights and after a cold shower, Steve was ready to lounge in bed. And of course, be pampered by his mate. Eddie climbed in beside him and then slid down until he was face to face with Steve's bump. Eddie nuzzled it and kissed Steve all over.

It was hard to believe he was due in January. It felt like such a long wait and yet just around the corner.

"Have I told you lately how perfect you are?", Eddie asked.

"Are you talking to me or our little bean?"

"To you. And I think we can both agree she's a bit more than a bean now", Eddie said.

"'She'? You're taking Shawn's side now?"

"Gotta go with the winning hand. He was right about you and me. AND he knew how Charlotte's Web ended!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Eddie, that movie is decades old. Plus you're the one who had a whole lesson on the life cycle of spiders."

"I'm keeping my stance. That boy knows what's comin'. And he knows you've got a little princess in there."

"If you say so", Steve chuckled.

"Which makes you a queen..."

"Mhm", Steve tried to look unaffected but his scent gave him away as Eddie removed his underwear. His body had taken on a slightly creamier scent. One that Eddie just couldn't get enough of. Especially at the source.

"And every queen needs a what?", Eddie prompted, pulling them both onto their sides, a position that was easiest, given how Steve was growing.

"Their throne", Steve finished, turning his head into his pillow as Eddie's mouth came upon him.

---------------------------

Steve was pretty used to being on the parent side of parent-teacher conferences. But it was Eddie's first time on this end of the desk, so he was a little nervous. He knew the third grade teacher well enough. And so far, Shawn hadn't come home with any problems.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington. And good to see you, Mr. Munson.

"Mr. Reed", Eddie nodded.

"I'll cut straight to the point so that Mr. Munson can get back to his own conferences. I was a bit surprised at one of Shawn's assignments."

He pulled something from Shawn's folder. A drawing of the three of them, Steve's belly big and round, Eddie's hair all over the place, and Shawn with a huge smile. It was labeled too. Except-

"It caught me off guard that one of last year's spelling be champs would misspell a word."

'Me' was written under Shawn. 'Dad' was under Steve. And written under the drawing of Eddie was 'Daddie'. Once they saw it though, both parents sagged in relief.

"It's something Shawn started doing recently", Steve began to explain. "He still calls me Daddy and when we started to grow our family, he decided he needed a way to differentiate between the two of us."

"So I was christened 'Daddie' with an -ie. It's mixed with my name and I think that's incredibly clever, don't you?", Eddie asked.

"Oh!", Mr. Reed said when he realized. "Well that's different. -ahem- Moving on..."

------------------------------

"So how did this one compare to the last?", Eddie asked, wiping sweat off of Steve's forehead.

"Ask me again when I don't hate you for what you've done to me", Steve said, still feeling plenty raw from pushing another human being out of himself.

He was feeling much better when his pup was cleaned and and returned to him. His heart swelled and he cooed, welcoming his pup into the world. Shawn and Eddie had been right. He'd given birth to a beautiful little girl. Eddie couldn't believe how lucky he was to have been there for Steve when Shawn was born and now again for his own pup. The two of them were given time to bond with their baby before Robin brought Shawn in.

His eyes got wide at the tiny bundle that was swaddled up in Steve's arms. Eddie got Shawn set up in a chair next to the bed and showed him how to hold a newborn before letting him hold her.

"Meet your sister", Steve beamed. "Stephanie Rose Harrington."

Shawn's head snapped up. "You used it for a middle name?!"

"It's a good name", Eddie said. "Pretty fitting for our little rosebud." He was already thinking of where to get a new tattoo to commemorate her birth.

Shawn looked back down at his baby sister. Her ruddy cheeks, how everything about her was impossibly small. She yawned and suddenly Shawn burst into tears, prompting both of his parents to worry.

"Shawn, what's wrong?", Steve asked.

It took a couple of sobs for Shawn to calm himself down enough to speak well enough for them to understand. "I don't-hic-I don't want anything to happen to her!"

And well, that made Steve start to cry because he understood. Eddie grabbed Stephanie and handed her over to Steve, then he gathered Shawn in a hug, picking him up off his feet.

"I promise with everything I am, nothing ever gonna happen to her. Or to you. Not ever again."

Shawn's arms went around his dad as he let it all out. Steve wiped his tears and Robin waited for them to put themselves together again before making them gather for a family photo. Steve knew Eddie would do everything he could to protect their family. It was every omega's dream for an alpha to devote themselves like that. But even more importantly, Steve knew the danger would never come from within their home. And that meant everything to him.

--------------------

Linking this bc I used a few prompts from here.

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #a/b/o #omegaverse

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sunnie-writes · 1 year ago

Text

is loving as good as they say?

pairing: wally darling x reader

tags: romantic fluff, love confessions, reader is a hopeless romantic !!

plot: a hopeless romantic all your life, you dreamed about the love you saw in movies and series, the type you would read in books that left you kicking your feet and giggling. cupid never seemed to be by your side, everyone who you fell in love with ended up not liking you back, so of course you were scared of another heartbreak when you moved to a new neighborhood and ended up falling for your newest neighbor, wally darling. although, it seemed that cupid didn't miss this time.

talk that talk, sunnie !!: so, this has been rotting in my google docs for almost a year already, so i thought i should post it already!! i hope you guys enjoy it, and you're more than welcome to read my other wally fics. thank you, and let's get to it!!

this fic is also available on ao3, you can click here to find it!!

A hopeless romantic, that's what you could call yourself.

You crave the love you would see on TV, those movies and series about romance had a grip on you that no one could explain, and don't get me started on the books. Even while being that amazed by the concept of being loved and cared by someone who you felt the same with, Cupid seemed to always miss his arrows.

Unrequited love was painful, you learned that the hard way. In your high school, you would watch all the high school sweethearts make their ways to classes while holding hands or eating lunch playfully with all the romantic atmosphere that came with it. What was the word you felt? Ah, that's right, you envied them.

Moving away from your town was both a relief and a scare, you would now be open to meeting new people, watching them enter your life. You hoped that they would stay.

And that's how you ended up here, in the lovely and colorful neighborhood that was Welcome Home. The name seemed silly, but you quickly learned that it was because of all the friendly behavior that those who lived there seemed to have. So friendly that they're always welcoming everyone.

All of the stars know that you would be lying if you said you weren't nervous. You never dealt good with talking to new people, you hoped that they could be friendly enough to start introductions first. Even if you were repeating how to introduce yourself like a mantra in your head, you were anxious about meeting so many people in just a day.

"Oooh! Are you the new neighbor?!" And that was your cue to use up all your social skills.

"Uh- yes?" You turned around to see who screamed, eyes meeting with a puppet girl with long blonde hair, and were those candy corn horns?

"Welcome Home! I was so excited to meet you! What is your name? What do you like?" She jumped up and down while popping multiple questions.

"I'm Y/N L/N, nice to meet you." You smiled, she's like a puppy. "I like reading and... animals, and I would love to be your friend!" There was no need to reveal your secret interest yet.

"That's amazing! You remind me of Frank, he also likes reading and animals! Well, specifically, flutterbies!" She spoke rapidly.

"Julie for the last time, they're called butterflies!" You looked to the side, seeing a gray man coming your way. "Oh, hello, I'm Frank."

You settled for waving at him. Julie, noticing your behavior, told him your name and interests. You're starting to think that Julie was sent from the angels as a way to help you enter this community.Then, you were pulled away from your thoughts as more puppet people started to gather in front of you.

"Oh my, the new neighbor has arrived already?" A girl with a sun head happily said. "My name is Sally Starlet, and you?"

"I'm Y/N L/N... nice to meet you!" You gave your best friendly smile.

Everyone introduced themselves to you, all colorful and adorable. Poppy was a pretty chicken who turned out to be an immediate mother figure to you, we also have Barnaby who is a big blue dog with a chill, kinda laid back personality that made you comfortable with his presence. Eddie Dear was the mailman, who Julie alerted you to not catch feelings for since Frank already had his eyes on him, and Howdy was a sweet man who owned the local market.

Judging by the numbers of houses, only one neighbor was missing. You pondered on how the last person could possibly be like, smiling at the idea of them being just as friendly as everyone in this colorful place that had you looking around nonstop.

"Ah, I see… am I late?" Someone spoke up, you turned around to finally meet your last neighbor.

And at that moment, you knew you were in trouble. He was absurdly pretty, with a blue pompadour and yellow skin, along with colorful clothing and eyes that pierced your soul and sent chills all over your senses. You felt your cheeks burn up, Cupid did it again and you weren't sure on how to stop staring at him.

"Woooow Wally, being late to meet our newest neighbor? How dare you!" Barnaby playfully dramatically gasped.

"I apologize, let me introduce myself." He went in your direction, standing right in front of you, who was currently almost out of breath. "I'm Wally Darling, the artist of the town, it's a pleasure to meet you…?"

"Y/N, Y/N L/N." Your voice almost cracked for a second, making your cheeks heat up even more. "Nice to meet you too…"

"How adorable, surely you're a great addition to our lovely neighborhood." He picked up your hand, giving a kiss on the back of your palm.

Stuttering, you thanked him for the compliment while trying your best to not fall on your knees. Julie came into the scene again and began telling Wally your tastes, he listened carefully while nodding and looking at you with a relaxed smile.

Eventually, everyone began slowly saying their goodbyes and going to their homes or jobs. You waved as Julie was the last one to leave and entered your house, closing the door behind you and holding your heart. It was racing, and you were well acquaintanced with the feeling.

Well, you failed, love followed your way again.

And now, what to do? You couldn't lie to yourself but it was hard to face the truth. It seemed too early for falling in love, you can just call it a crush and try to get over it, maybe this time it'll work!

Yeah, just give it some time and it'll pass, you were sure of it!

—

So, it didn't work.

That was obviously going to happen, and now you had your head in your hands while you walked around your house. On your bed, a pretty bouquet with your favorite color layed prettily there. Wally gave it to you, as a way to celebrate "your first week in the neighborhood", how sweet!

Your heart kept beating faster and faster each time you thought about the way he showed up on your doorstep, with his smug smile and bouquet in hands. He looked so innocent as your insides felt like melting from all the sweetness that gesture had.

And before you could control your feelings, you were already catching yourself humming to cheesy love songs and even singing them while cleaning the house. The radio echoed around your house, romantic tunes that you requested on the telephone to play there were all over the place.

Your once retired love books were now scattered across the floor as you giggled by imagining the scenarios with Wally. You didn't try to make a move and ask him out, your heart already had many bruises from past love delusions, and you really didn't feel like piling up another one for your heartbreak wonderland.

Instead, you just tried to become his friend while also trying to get your feelings to go away. That was, obviously, not a good idea, how could you try to stop falling for someone who you interact with everyday?

Before you could think properly on a better plan, a month had gone by. You still had your late night scenarios to giggle about, along with your hopeless romantic dreaming that pulled you into a cycle of trying to stop loving Wally Darling and learning how to love him all over again because of your weak heart.

Curse the Cupid, curse him and all of his pinkish love arrows who never found your way before. Of course you would be giving up on the first month, he never gave you what you wanted before, what could possibly make you think that now it would all go the right way?

Stupid, selfish Cupid.

—

Three months had passed, and you could say you were tired of waiting for the feelings to suddenly disappear.

You played with a doll's hand, carefully moving the antique treasure in your arms. Currently, you were at Julie's house, who was the only person who was aware of your huge crush on Wally. She giggled as she asked you questions of all the time you and "lover boy" had passed together.

"He just wanted to paint with someone, it's not like he wanted to paint alone with just me and nobody else!" You blushed while looking at the ground.

"I don't know, he never really let me or the other neighbors touch his painting supplies." Julie then whispered in a teasing manner, "Maybe he thinks of you as special, in a like-like way!"

You lowered your head while choking on your water, feelings all over the place. If there was something that Julie liked to do, it was to tease relentlessly. After you calmed down, you both started to ask each other random questions to pass the time.

"Now, as a hopeless romantic, what is your ideal date?" She questioned, looking happy as ever in your direction.

"Hmm, stargazing seems like a great date, picnics look a lot of fun too!" You bashfully chuckled. "Oh, a picnic on a sunset, that turns into a stargazing session! With sweet apple pies and cake, along with refreshing drinks!"

"Ooh, tell me more!" Julie smiled.

"Okay, then a cold wind blows and suddenly I shiver, then Wally puts his cardigan on me and hugs me closer!" You could easily feel your cheeks heating up just from your imagination.

And that earned a screech from Julie.

“Ugh, how are your scenarios always the best?!”

“It’s the prize I get for being a dreamer.” You chuckled lightly.

—

Today was a special day in the neighborhood.

Apparently, everyone was going to the nearest lake, which is gigantic, you can say, and pop up some balloons and light up some fireworks because it was the neighborhood’s anniversary!

You were currently trying to pick your best outfit, and that was because Wally was going to pick you up since you didn’t know the way to the lake. At least that’s what you told yourself so you wouldn’t freak out at the scenario. Seriously, that sounded like a romantic comedy.

After a while, you ended up settling for one of your favorite outfits, one that had stars on them. Then, a knock on the door was heard. You quickly put on your shoes and ran to open it, coming face to face to an adorable Wally, looking at you while holding a bouquet of red tulips and some amaranth.

“There we go, a bouquet of beautiful flowers for an even prettier one.”

“Oh! Wally, you shouldn’t…” You blushed and took the flowers.

“Nonsense, you deserve only the best!” He chuckled raspily.

You giggled as he gave you his hand, pleading eyes for you to walk with him. You two started walking while holding hands in the direction of the lake, talking about everything that was going on in the neighborhood. It was a nice atmosphere, comfortable enough, and dare you say, romantic.

As you arrived there, Wally smiled and kissed the back of your hand before going to talk to a knowing Barnaby, who stared at you with a big smile and wiggling his eyebrows. Julie, who saw all of that, pulled you towards her and Frank immediately.

"Oh. My. Stars! What was that? Is that a bouquet? Are you two going on a date?" She excitedly spoke while flapping her hands.

"Julie, calm down. Pretty sure she is malfunctioning." Frank told the girl by his side. "But yeah, what exactly happened there?"

"I don't know, and I'm freaking out about it!" You giggled while holding the bouquet close to you, smiling.

"That was absurdly romantic, I think he is head over heels for you!" Julie exclaimed while whispering. "Besides, look at these flowers, they are so pretty!"

"They also have an exquisite meaning, you know?" Frank randomly spoke, dropping the fact like it was nothing.

You proceeded to hint at him to keep going.

"Amaranths mean eternal love, red tulips mean true love." Frank looked at you while raising his eyebrows. "That is literally a confession."

Julie, who was holding her energy back, gave a screech and started shaking your arm. Meanwhile, you had just bluescreened. Your cheeks heated up, and you felt your heartbeat increase rapidly, like it was trying to burst out your ribcage in a desperate manner. At that point, you were checking if you still even had some pulse.

Suddenly, someone started ringing a bell, and so, everyone looked to the front, seeing Poppy there. She smiled before starting to explain that there was food on the foldable table, fireworks and water guns, everything for fun. Poppy then started handing out glasses with juice to everyone before raising a toast for the neighborhood's birthday.

After that, all of you started talking to each other. You looked around, smiling when you saw Eddie talking to Frank, who was trying his best to cover up a blush while Julie looked at him with a knowing smile from across the field, Sally was braiding some of her long hair. Poppy and Howdy were discussing random things while Barnaby just laid down at the picnic blanket and stared at the stars.

And there, from across the room, your eyes met his. Something electrical went through your body, and you could swear you felt your world stop. Suddenly, there were no more friendly neighbors around you, the festivities and candy long forgotten in your mind. No, none of that mattered anymore, did it?

It was just you and him, across a field as he slowly made his way towards you.

Wait.

You were too late to process it, he's already in front of you.

"So, dearest, how are you enjoying the party?" Wally asked, igniting a fire in your belly to light up the butterflies who panicked and fluttered along you.

"Good, I- I think everyone is having fun, what about you?" You responded, trying your best to hide your reaction with the nickname.

“I could say I am.” He looks at you, up and down, down and up. And it sets your skin ablaze.

Icarus wasn’t able to resist the beauty that was the Sun to him, and maybe you wouldn’t survive the flirt that was Wally Darling. Every single thing he does sets you on fire, butterflies infest your stomach, it’s magical and so cheesy, all at the same time.

“Come with me, I wanna show you something.” His honey-laced words get to you, and you comply with a nod.

He holds your hand, and starts going into the trees, between all those primary colored leaves. You can feel your heartbeat increasing, all your muscles about to give up, it’s like dying but not exactly that, living in ecstasy, better than any drug.

You two stop at Swan Lake, where the stars reflect on the water and the feathered bEINGS float elegantly. Your eyes shine as you see them doing their little synchronized dance, until you notice that they end up doing a heart. You sigh, real romantic.

“Darling, could you look at me, please?”

You turn to see Wally, on one knee, his hand holding yours. You might start crying.

“You see, Y/N, ever since the day I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. With your smile, your way of expressing yourself, I knew you were gonna steal my heart, and I knew that I would never have it back. I’ve heard stories in the past about soulmates, loved ones made for you, and I didn’t believe any of that, before I met you. I’m an artist, not a poet, but you make me inspired dear, to dedicate you the most beautiful forms of art out there, paint and frame your face, have millions of words dedicating my love to you, and that still wouldn’t be enough for you to understand how much I desire you. I want to see your resting face every morning, I want to hold you in my arms and sleep for eternity, I want to grow every day by your side. Would you do me the owner, Dearest, and accept my confession? To finally be mine and let me be yours?”

You, unable to hold the feeling, giddily jumped around before throwing yourself on him, both of you falling on the ground. You cried tears of joy as you said yes a million times, while he patted your back and chuckled, kissing your forehead.

—

“You know,” Frank started with crossed arms while looking at you and Wally, happily holding hands while sitting on the picnic blanket, “One could say that you two were perfect for each other.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Julie exclaimed, happy that you and your Darling were together, finally together.

“Ha ha ha, oh well, I knew they were the one for me since day one.” Wally answered, pulling you into another sweet and quick kiss, making you squeak.

“Ugh, don’t leave the picnic all sappy with your love.” Frank rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t be jealous Frank, everyone knows you want to live that with Ed-” He covered Julie’s mouth before she could say anything else.”

“... Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I feel like I just won the lottery.” You proudly stated.

“Oh, they grow up so fast…” Poppy hiccuped for what seemed to be the eleventh time, being real emotional with your fresh new relationship.

“There there, Poppy.” Howdy patted her in the back.

“I’m really happy for you guys!” Said Eddie while sitting down next to Frank.

You smiled at him while Wally thanked the mailman. You grabbed yourself a piece of lemon pie to eat.

“Sooo, when’s the wedding?” Barnaby jokes.

And you proceeded to choke on your lemon pie.

#welcome home #welcome home x reader #welcome home arg #welcome home self insert #welcome home fanfic #welcome home x you #wally darling #wally darling x you #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #welcome home wally #sunnie's fics!!

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queer-irritator · 1 year ago

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Mkay, for Kenobi I feel like we always skip over how much potential there is for Padawan!Obi-Wan x Padawan!Reader.

Kenobi (bless his soul) had his heart broken by when the mission was over and didn’t know how to handle it, so he goes to his closest friend since a youngling; reader. (It could be fem. Reader, but it doesn’t have to be, that’s just what I identify as 😊.) And they both develop a little crush on one another over time. And from there they both just love one another as “friends”, until the end of ROTS when they realize they can’t be without one another.

Hopefully this feeds your mind :)

I love this!! I love it so much that this has to be two parts! Not sure if you wanted smut, but I threw a little in there ;) Also not proof read bc it's me

CW: Smut, fluff, afab anatomy, no gendered language, alcohol references, hurt/comfort

Word count: 3,238

Part 1

You met Obi-wan on your first day in the Jedi temple on Courscant, he was the first person to really become your friend, even though he was two years older than you. You would always find a spot next to each other during Master Yoda’s training and lessons as younglings. There were a handful of times the two of you were given a talking to from multiple different Masters after you “disturbed the class”. To be fair, it was mostly you being disruptive, and Obi-wan giggling at your antics. Eventually you both learned your lesson to stay focused during training after it was hammered into your head enough times. As you grew older together you would sneak into each other’s sleeping quarters to goof off.

By the time you were 12 you had gotten into a routine of having Friday night hang-outs together. Switching whose room you snuck off to every other week, you hoarded snacks from the week for your night together. One week in particular you had convinced him to watch one of your favorite movies.

“You’re gonna love it!” You assured the boy next to you, elbowing him in the side playfully.

“I don’t see how that’s possible…” Obi-wan sighed dramatically and leaned his back against the wall of your bed.

You rolled your eyes and opened three different bags of snacks you have been hiding, Obi-wan’s hand immediately dove into the first bag you opened. After starting the movie on your holo-projector you mirrored his position and began to munch on your snacks.

The comfort and consistency of having Obi-wan by your side became so familiar, so when he came to tell you he was going away on a mission, the shock took your breath away.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Obi-wan admitted, lowering his gaze from your eyes to the floor.

The stinging behind your eyes and the burning in your throat threatened an incoming flood of tears. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. If you were to speak you knew you would just end up crying.

He finally glanced up at you. He could almost feel his heart break seeing the well of tears in your eyes.

He softly called your name, eyebrows knitted together in concern. He stepped toward you and wrapped his arms around you, and you instinctively clung onto him and sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized between sniffles, it was embarrassing that he was seeing you like this. You weren’t aware of it at the time, but he had his own tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Don’t be sorry.” He blinked away his tears and let go of the hug to look into your eyes, “We’ll talk everyday, even if it’s just a binary message, okay?”

You nodded as you used your sleeve to wipe your tears and snot. You knew this day would come, Obi-wan had turned 15 and been training as Qui-gon’s padawan for two years now. It was time for his first mission off-world.

Qui-gon approached the doorway to your room where you and Obi-wan stood saying your good-bye’s.

“It’s time to go, Obi-wan.” He spoke calmly.

“Yes, Master.” He replied obediently.

He gave you one last hug and exchanged one last good-bye before he turned around and walked out your door.

For the first few weeks, you had both kept your promise to talk everyday. But, life started to get in the way. You became a padawan, assigned to Plo Koon and Obi-wan was becoming more engrossed in his mission. You still made time to chat a few times a month, but it wasn’t as often as either of you would have liked.

Obi-wan ended up staying on his mission for over a year. He would frequently talk to you about the Dutchess Satine he and his Master were protecting. You could tell by the way he talked about her that he thought of her as more than a friend. Whenever you would elude to the fact that he obviously had feelings for her his face would flush and he would change the subject.

You could hide your jealousy, but you couldn’t deny it. You never thought of Obi-wan as anything other than a friend until you realized you didn’t have him so close to you anymore. When you came to realize Satine wasn’t just a crush he would get over, you began to explore your own romantic interests. Often times you would just make up stories of someone you liked or held hands with just to see how Obi-wan would react. He always seemed happy for you, but his smile and words didn’t always match what his eyes showed.

One night you were reading a book in your bed when you heard a soft knock at your door. You closed your book with a sigh and pushed yourself off the bed to answer your door.

“Yes?” You spoke before you could fully take in who was standing before you.

It was Obi-wan. He surely seemed to have grown a lot for being away for just a year. He looked older, of course. But he also seemed wiser, like he had gone through many hard lessons. Before he could speak, you engulfed him in a death-grip of a hug.

“You’re back!?” You exclaimed, clinging onto him like he would disappear if you let go.

His arms softly returned your embrace and he rested his chin on your head.

“I’m back.” he confirmed.

Sensing something was off, you gingerly let go of him and looked into his eyes, searching for an answer to your unspoken questions. Becoming more in tune with his emotions you sensed a deep sadness and loss.

“What happened?” Your voice had lowered, afraid that something terrible had happened on his mission.

“I couldn’t do it.” He returned your same tone of softness.

“Do what?” Your brows furrowed together in confusion and concern. You gently led him into your room, the door automatically closing behind him.

“I couldn’t leave the order… For Satine.” He finally admitted, taking a seat on the edge of your bed.

A sad sigh escaped your lips as you sat next to him, your knee brushing against his. You knew how deeply he cared for Satine, how much pain he must be in. But part of you couldn’t help feel some relief. You decided that you were relieved no one was dead or seriously harmed, not that you wouldn’t be losing Obi-wan.

“I’m so sorry, Obi.” You placed your hand on his back and gently rubbed small circles with your hand.

He was hunched forward, head drooping down and you saw a tear fall from his cheek and leave a wet stain on his clothing. As your heart broke in two, you pulled him into another hug.

Obi-wan wrapped an arm around you but had pulled away slightly to look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated yourself, your voice barely audible.

He lifted his free hand to cup the side of your face and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek. Before you could question his actions, his lips were connected to yours. In any other situation you would be ecstatic to be sharing your first kiss with the boy you grew up with. The boy you had been unknowingly longing for since you very first met. But his kiss felt desperate, insecure, and it was laced in pain. You were frozen for the few seconds his lips were on you. When he had pulled away he looked terrified.

“Obi-wan…” You began, but were cut off by more tears falling from your best friend’s eyes.

All you could do was wrap your arms around him, and this time he just fell into you, sobbing. You placed a hand on the back of his head to hold him closer while shushing him and telling him it was okay.

You held him in your arms all night until he eventually fell asleep. You stayed awake for a few hours switching between rubbing his back and stroking his head.

The next morning he tried to apologize for his actions, but before he could find the words to get out you were shaking your head and telling him not to worry about it. That was the last time you spoke of your kiss, but definitely not the last time you thought about it.

Time marched on, Obi-wan came to terms that his feelings and attachment to Satine could not progress if he were to continue his Jedi training. The two of you followed this trend of hurt and loss followed by getting too close to each other. Despite the two of you agreeing that you wouldn’t share anymore kisses or stay awake until the early hours of the morning holding each other, it never failed to occur. One of you would be hurting and seek the other out for comfort, but in the feelings of despair and lowness, you clung to each other in ways you both knew you shouldn’t. It was always just short kisses, holding hands, laying in bed together, until Master Qui-gon had died. You didn’t think it would be possible to see Obi-wan in more pain than after leaving Satine, but you were sadly mistaken.

It was a few weeks after he died, everyone was beginning to settle into the new normality of life without the Master’s presence. And Obi-wan was once again knocking at your door late in the evening. Usually when he came to see you this time of night he couldn’t sleep or had an extra hard day.

“Come in.” You called as you closed your holo-screen.

You were studying for your trials to become a Jedi Knight, specifically a Jedi Investigator. Obi-wan had gained the rank of Jedi Knight after defeating Darth Maul, excusing him from performing the trials, and rightfully so. Everything had changed so drastically in a such a short amount of time. Qui-gon was gone, Obi-wan defeated a sith, became a knight and gained a padawan.

“Still studying so late?” Obi-wan questioned you.

“Yeah, well not everyone is as naturally gifted as you are, Jedi Knight Kenobi.” You teased him.

He chuckled, but you could tell he had an especially mischievous demeanor to him tonight.

“What are you up to?” You raised an eyebrow at him out of suspicion.

“Oh, nothing.” He eluded your question as he walked around your room casually, “I was just curious if you’d like to get a drink?”

You smiled at him, but held your suspicion, “Sure… is that all you were curious about?”

“Maybe.” Is all he said to you as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, observing your movements.

You rolled your eyes and slipped on your shoes, “You’re a dick.” You said, elbowing him in the side before leading the way out of your room. You could hear his chuckle as he trailed behind you.

The two of you walked to a hotel a few blocks away that had a nice bar and restaurant in the lobby. Obi-wan led the way towards the bar and ordered the both of you a drink. You leaned against the bar, using your elbow to prop yourself up slightly.

“So, how has Anakin been doing?” You initiated the usual small talk.

“Very well, actually. He’s a quick learner.” Obi-wan casually bragged about his new padawan.

“I’m not surprised, he has a great teacher.” You smiled at him as a droid set down your drinks.

You handed one of the glasses to Obi-wan and clinked your glass with his lightly, “To new beginnings.” You toasted and took a healthy gulp of your drink.

Obi-wan nodded in agreement and mirrored your actions, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Mh, is that so?” You questioned him, continuing to sip your drink. You could notice that he had more of a nervous energy now that the conversation topic had switched.

“Yes, but I might need another drink first.” He chuckled slightly, finishing his drink.

You were starting to become suspicious of what was on his mind. Could he be trying to get up the nerve to tell you he was leaving again?

“What’s going on, Obi? You know you can talk to me about anything.” You set your empty glass down and placed your hand on his shoulder.

He took a moment to order another drink before turning his attention to you, “I know. I’ve just been thinking… about us.”

A puzzled look came over your face, “What do you mean? What about us?”

You felt your heartbeat start to increase. All you could imagine was him telling you that you two were two close and it was against the Jedi code. That you can’t have a friendship any longer. Obi-wan downed the shot he ordered as soon as it was set on the table. It must be bad if he can’t even talk to you sober.

He lowered his voice slightly, “How we go to each other at our darkest times… You’ve always been there for me.”

You gave him a sweet smile, “Of course, you’re there for me too. That’s what friends are for.”

“See, that’s the issue. I’ve been thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t… More than a friend.” He had been inching closer to you.

A blush crept onto your cheeks. The intimate moments you’ve shared were never something you discussed outside of the heat of the moment. It was the unspoken rule you had. But, Obi-wan did seem to be breaking all types of rules lately.

When you didn’t give him any response besides staring into his piercing blue eyes, he moved even closer to you and placed a hand on the bar so it was gently on top of yours.

He leaned close to your ear and whispered, “I want you.”

Suddenly your throat seemed dry, you had to clear it before you could get any words out, “I want you too.”

He didn’t hesitate to plant a soft kiss on your lips. You moved your lips against his as your eyes fluttered closed. Whenever you felt Obi-wan’s body against yours, it felt like home. Like you could finally breathe and relax. He pulled away too soon for your liking.

“I got a room upstairs.” He informed you, resting his forehead against yours.

You nodded as a grin spread across your lips, “Okay. Let’s go.”

Before that night, the two of you had never had any sexual contact. There had been a few times Obi-wan got a boner in the middle of a heavy make-out session, but that was when you two would stop and he would be too embarrassed to stay in your presence any longer. It was a line the two of you had always been too scared to cross. Not because of each other, but because of the Jedi code, or if someone else would hear or see you. But tonight was different. It was perfect in its own, very Obi-wan way. There were some awkward moments at first and Obi-wan was uncharacteristically clumsy at times. But once you were both naked and he was on top of you, things came naturally.

“You’re sure this is okay?” It must have been the tenth time Obi-wan was asking you.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You assured him as he was leaning over you, slightly sticky with sweat and concern plastered on his features.

“Because I can stop if you’re not sure-” He began again, but you interrupted him by placing your hands on the side of his face.

“Obi-wan Kenobi. I would very much like to have sex with you. I’m very ready and I’m very sure. If you are too, can you please put your dick in me.” You were staring into his eyes with every word you said.

He chuckled slightly as his head dropped down, but then he nodded, “Okay.”

He carefully guided himself and pushed through your entrance. You let a moan out as the feeling of his cock stretching and filling you up consumed all your senses. Obi-wan placed one hand on the side of your hip and used the other to hold himself up as he set forth a slow rocking motion.

He experimented with different angles and quickly learned by the sounds you made and how your nails raked across his skin which ones worked the best. As the true gentleman he is, he spent most of the time making sure you were thoroughly satisfied. It wasn’t until you began to encourage him that he focused more on his own pleasure.

As you were recovering from your third orgasm, you spoke up, “It’s your turn now, Obi.”

Your chest was rising and falling heavily, your hair a mess from the pillows and Obi-wan’s hands, and a dark red flush across your face.

“But you look so beautiful like this. I don’t want it to end.” He protested, planting soft kisses on your neck and chest.

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair that he had recently started to grow out, “You can’t have all the fun.”

You sat up and switched your position so you were on top of him now.

“Oh, this should be fun.” He chuckled and rested a hand on your thigh and rubbed your skin gently with his thumb.

“Just you wait.” You teased him as you slipped his cock back into you and began to rock your hips back and forth.

You could tell he liked it by the way he shut up and tightened his grip on your thigh. This encouraged you to go faster and you held onto his forearm to help keep your balance.

“Oh, stars.” He was almost whimpering as he watched you ride him.

He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, he used his free hand to rub circles on your clit. You were both a moaning mess as you continued to please each other. It took everything to keep your eyes on Obi-wan, you wanted to see him come undone beneath you. It didn’t take much longer as you felt his cock twitching inside of you and Obi-wan’s eyes squeezed shut and his eyebrows knit together as he reached his orgasm. The sight alone would have been enough to get you off, but his thumb was still rubbing your clit when you reached your final orgasm of the night.

After taking a moment for both of you to come down off your highs, you lifted your shaky legs and collapsed next to Obi-wan. He puts his arm around you and turned his head to kiss you on the forehead. You instinctively scooted closer to him and curled up against his side, hand resting on his chest. It was the first time neither of you felt guilt creeping into your minds. The first time there was no ‘We shouldn’t have done that’ or ‘It can’t happen again’.

The two of you had come to the very delusional conclusion that you weren’t in violation of the Jedi code on two conditions. One, that you weren’t in a commited romantic relationship together, and two, that it didn’t become something you did regularly or often. It would be casual, beneficial even. Two friends and co-workers helping each other relieve stress. Of course it would remain a secret, but not because it was wrong, because your friendship was no one else’s business but yours.

A/N: I'm gonna do my best to have second part up real soon 🫡

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #padawan! obi wan x reader #padawan! obi wan x padawan! reader #obi wan x gn reader #obi wan smut #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan fanfic #star wars fanfic #obi wan needs love

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