#my building is old and has ancient radiators so i don’t control the heat

[myfluorescentgods]

so. it is 37 degrees fahrenheit outside, we are under a freeze warning for the next hour, and my shit fucking garbage ass useless landlord/maintenance will not turn the fucking heat on because it’s gonna be in the 70s next week. i am so angry i wanna break glass

[babbushka]

Something Incredible, Something Unstoppable

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren x Reader 

3.7k ; explicitly NSFW, warnings for mentions of murder & blood 

Also on AO3! 

                                                             ---------------

You step out of the shadows, when he’s done.

When his lightsaber has pierced the heart of an Emperor long thought gone, when he’s breathing hard at the implications of this news, at the implications of this man and how it hits him, how it changes everything he’s ever known, everything he’s ever believed.

The room crashes and crackles around you, some deep dark chasm, some ancient cave, where statues of Sith legends peer down at you with their stony eyes. They judge you, but that’s okay, because as you shoot a glare back at them, at the ancient beings who have witnessed the murder of your husband’s tormenter, you judge them right back.

The crippled old man slumps in his throne, body sizzling, not having expected Kylo to turn on him, not expecting Kylo to be so quick to kill him. The old man has lived a thousand lives it seems, but now his last has finally come to an end.

“Kylo.” You say, voice soft. You do not need to shout, do not need to scream out his name, for he hears you, always hears you. You could be a thousand lightyears away and he would hear you, there inside his head.

You saw the whole thing, the entire thing, from your spot at the entrance of the cave, the room where Kylo dared not let you step into fully. Surrounded by the Knights of Ren, by your sworn loyal hounds, by your guards, you watched as your husband struck Palpatine down.

He’s shaking, trembling, his jaw clenched tight as he powers off the saber and turns towards you, desperate for you. If he doesn’t get near you soon, he’ll scream, his entire mind in shambles from the revelation that everything, everything, has been by Palpatine’s design. He wonders just how far the plan would have gone, if he had simply walked away, if he had taken up Palpatine’s offer and ran with it.

He wonders how that plan would have ended, a vision of the future that could have been; a twinge in his spine of phantom bones cracking in another universe where he did not just slice the man in half, sliced him into two in the same manner as he had done to his master not so long ago.

His master who, like everything else, was nothing but a puppet with invisible strings.

He does scream then, but it is not of fear, or of pain. He screams because there is too much energy and nowhere to put it, nowhere for it to go, as the power of the Force shudders through him. With Palpatine gone, there is only him, only his body for the dark side to call home. It is a harsh sound, his scream. Deep and primal, one that rips through the vocal cords in his throat, one that shocks through the walls of the cave.

His chest heaves as he storms across the chasm to you, to the squadron of protection he has wrapped you in. The danger is gone now, smote by his own hand, but still, still he demands your protection.

“Time to go.” You say gently, firmly, holding a hand out for him.

You want him out of here, want him away from this place. There’s too much to process, too much to sort through, you don’t want him here.

You don’t want to be here.

Kylo takes your hand, and you don’t even so much as bat an eye when your glove stains red from the blood on his gloves, you only let it drip between your fingers as you turn and lead him out of the cave, back to the ship where he has docked it, where he can shred your clothes and dig his fingers into your flesh and cling to you in the way he’s desperate for.

He follows, and as he does, so do the Knights.

As he does, so does the Force.

It’s like the Force knows, it’s like it agrees -- it’s like it adores you, adores Kylo. Adores the love and the bond you have built together. It creates an umbrella above you as you clear the short distance to the ship, keeps you dry. The rain is not worthy to fall on your skin, to dampen your hair, to darken your clothing. You are contained inside a bubble, one that no one in the universe could ever burst.

 Inside the ship, he barks an order, sets the coordinates for home, for the star destroyer that stalks the galaxy, the monument to the Order’s power. He will no doubt take control of the fleet which Palpatine has been so kind to amass, so kind to build. You are filled with the thrill of power when you think about how it will be under your command, under Kylo’s.

You are also filled with the heady anticipation of his adoration for you, his desperation for your body. You can feel it pulsing off of him, it’s oozing in waves so thick you’re sure everyone around you can feel it. You can’t help but let a small smile through, at the thought of everyone going to fuck the stars out of each other just from the few intoxicating moments of being near Kylo’s lust.

And oh, how that lust is intoxicating.

By the time you arrive to the quarters which have been lavishly furnished just for you, quarters with the lights turned down nearly all the way, the glow of the distant stars illuminating the space, it is as though every fiber of your robes are permeated with the smell of it. It’s nearly painful, the way which he craves you so feverishly. You had never had the misfortune of being struck by the lightning which he can summon from his palms, but you think if you were to, it would feel like this.

Electrifying, blistering, blinding heat – a tremor runs through your spine as the static charge of his love radiates in red crackling currents through your very soul.

He loves you, and that is a dangerous thing.

You love him back, love him with every cell in your body, love him unapologetically and openly, love him completely. And that is what will bring the remaining corners of the galaxy to its knees.

There is a ritual you share, no matter where you are, no matter when he wants it. A ritual you take great stock in, a ritual which you uphold with utmost respect. You begin by stripping him down to his bare skin, removing layer upon layer of his clothing slowly, folding each piece with care.

You begin at the top, with the cape which clips to his tunic. He is so broad, so incredibly broad, you think as your hands smooth down his chest to the buckle of his wide belt. You smile at the little tracker placed inside it, grateful for the technology as you rest it over the back of a plush armchair in the corner of the room.

Underneath his outer tunic of black ribbed weatherproofing fabric, lay a pair of high waisted leather pants and a protective layer of armored padding. He had learned, since being shot in the stomach by the bowcaster of an old friend, to not be so neglectful. You unclasp the padding, undo the buttons on his trousers, sinking to your knees along the way.

You kneel before him, before your Emperor, your Supreme Leader, as you remove his boots one by one. You bend down to kiss his ankles, open mouthed kisses that have his hands balling into fists, and now it is his turn to tremble. The boots come up halfway to his calf, and you suck and breathe kisses onto the leather as you move up them, unbuckling the straps and letting him step out.

All that remains of his stately attire, are his gloves and those trousers unbuttoned and slung on his hips. Trousers which you peel slowly slowly slowly down, down his thick muscular thighs, down his newly freed calves.

His cock is so hard that it curves up slightly, seeking friction, seeking heat.

You smile at Kylo’s restraint – though it is barely there – he knows he’ll have you soon. This slow sweet torture is not something to be skipped, anticipation of fucking making the fucking itself that much sweeter.

You nuzzle your cheek into the hardened muscle of his lower stomach, so close to his cock that occasionally your other cheek grazes the head of it, and he bucks his hips involuntarily from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“Share with me a secret.” You whisper, when you have decided that he’s had enough torment.

He offers you a strong and steady hand which you take, and he hauls you up carefully to your feet.

“I’ve never felt stronger than when you’re with me.” He licks his lips, lips which are perfectly bitten from how his teeth had worried them while you made out with his boots. He licks his lips and swallows, cups your cheek with a calloused palm and tilts your face so he can better enter your space, so he can better kiss you. He doesn’t kiss you yet, instead he asks, “When I close my eyes, do you know what I see?”

“Tell me.” You breathe, as you feel the invisible hands of the Force slither around your body, an agreement with the universe that you need to be naked too.

“Paradise.” Kylo’s eyes flicker redorangeyellowgold, just for a moment, just for an instant.

“Show me.” You say, not quite a demand, not quite a beg, but somewhere in between.

And just as slowly and sensually as you had removed every stitch of clothing on your husband, he removes yours. The Force aides his hands as he carefully undoes the intricacies of your dress.

Your cape is not a separate piece of clothing like Kylo’s, instead it is made of yards of fabric which actually hang from your belt. The fabric folds behind you and drapes up over your throat beautifully in a criss-crossing manner, protecting the fragile anatomy there and providing a sense of elegance you were known across the galaxy for.

He unclips the big sleek metal belt-buckle, and lifts the looped fabric from your neck to allow the cape to flutter gently to the polished marble floor. The neckline of the dress plunges, held together by a single button at your navel which is normally hidden by the belt. When undone, the sleeveless bodice slips down your shoulders, and under the weight of its own it too slips down your hips.

You wear no undergarments, and when the dress is nothing more than a puddle of black satin on the floor, you stand in nothing more than your gloves and your boots. Unlike Kylo’s, your gloves extend pass your elbow, leather and shiny and black. Your boots rise all the way to your inner thigh.

But like you, Kylo falls to his knees.

His hands shake, when they ghost the flesh of your thighs. He begins as you did, at the bottom, kissing and licking the black leather boots. But he has a much longer way to go than you did, and as he kisses up up up your leg, he begins to shake more and more strongly.

You know his patience is being tested, but his patience will soon be rewarded, you both know this.

So he kisses up your leg, and finally, finally, when he reaches the top of your boot, he is mere inches away from the one thing he craved possibly more than anything in the entire galaxy.

More than the murder of his inexorable sister, more than the death of his traitorous uncle, more than the collapse of the rebellious organization that insists on terrorizing his precious reign – your beautiful, hot, glistening pussy.

“Take me.” You tell him.

And just like that, the patience breaks.

The Force rips the gloves away from both of your hands, peels them off and throws them into the corner so that when you and Kylo embrace in a meeting of fire and brimstone, it is with the electrifying spark of bare skin on bare skin.

The bed is large and soft, but he lays you down upon it with an urgency that has the whole mattress shaking, rippling under his power as he props your hips up with a silk pillow. He does not waste time burying his face in your pussy, his tongue insistent, impatient, demanding entry between your folds.

“Kylo!” You say, you say because you cannot say anything else, cannot express anything other than the love you have for this man.

Your hand grabs a fistful of his hair and grips him tight, holds him in place as he licks hot broad stripes with the flat of his tongue through all your slick, drinking it down with a fervor that would have you chuckling if you weren’t moaning instead.

His arms hook underneath your thighs and his grip on you is bruising, absolutely bruising with the way his blunt nails carve crescent moons into your skin. He is breathing hard, so hard, as he moans into your cunt with the way he tries to shove his mouth harder against your pussy, kissing and drooling and massaging your thighs with restless hands all the while. He bites the soft skin of your inner thigh, bites down hard enough for you to tighten the grip in his hair and yank slightly. Kylo only laves his tongue over the harsh indents he causes in apology, one that you’re happy to accept.

“Stars, fuck (Y/N),” Kylo pulls back for a moment, because he too is overwhelmed by his own acts of worship. He wants nothing more than to worship you.

He sucks on your clit then, out of nowhere. The pleasure is immense, nearly blinding, because as he latches his mouth around it, something cups and kneads your tits, pinches and tweaks at your nipples. The stimulation has your knees clamping down around his head, and your eyes shut closed so tightly that you can see stars forming behind your eyelids.  

“Oh, yesyesyes,” You arch your back off the sheets, pushing your hips up against his mouth further, “Kylo, yes please – oh fuck, fuck honey -- ”

He eats your cunt and toys with your nipples until your toes curl in the sheets and you’re gasping, coming coming coming on his tongue. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop, only continues to lick and suck suck suck on your clit, the force finding its way around your throat, into your mouth. Phantom fingers stroke your tongue, and you cry out Kylo’s name as you shudder so hard from your orgasm that your teeth clack.

He pulls away only once he can sense you’re overstimulated, but he’s not anywhere near done with you yet. His cock weeps for you, you can feel it dripping pre-come across your thighs as he positions himself on top of you fully. The wetness smears between your bodies as he drinks the nectar of your love from your lips, kisses you while the last legs of bliss from your orgasm ripples and shakes through you.

“Good, you’re so good,” Kylo pets the side of your face with one of his large mitts for hands, strokes your cheek. “So fucking good for me, you precious thing.”

Unlike his words, he is not gentle, when he fucks you. It is like much else about him – harsh, severe, explosive. He doesn’t even wait to bottom out before he begins to thrust into your sweet pussy, the blood pounding in his head too loud for him to even appreciate the sick squelch of your come as he grinds his hips against yours. He is fast, he is hard, he is angry.

All the anger that he felt, all that passion that was imbibed in his veins when he slaughtered the man who had ruined his life by his design, all that rage comes flowing out now, now that he has the sweet surrender, the infinite release of your body to take him.

And take him you do, happily you take what he gives, and you give everything you can in return. His cock is so fucking big, so skilled, so adept at maneuvering inside your body from the years of sex you have engaged in together. He fucks you skillfully, even if a little sloppy in the wake of all that rage.

He is some feral thing, unhinged.

Years ago, a crippled puppet had once described Kylo as having raw, untamed power.

Now there were no more strings, no more shadows behind closed doors a thousand lightyears away pushing the pieces – and Kylo felt free.

He grits his teeth and pinches his face up in anger as he rails you hard, fucks you up up up the mattress until your head nearly hits the ornate headboard, and you bring Kylo out of it for just a moment so he can see that soon there will be no more room for him to pound you. He nods – but instead of pulling out of you so you can shuffle back down the bed, he uses the force to drag your joined bodies to the center of the mattress once more, and he resumes his frantic pace.

“I want – I need – ” You pant, body jolting under him as he lifts one of your legs for a better angle that has tears spilling into your hair, chin trembling from how fucking good this new position feels. It all feels good with Kylo, but this, this is magic.

Once it has its hands on you, the Force doesn’t seem to want to let you go. You think it’s sweet sometimes, how it vies with Kylo to cover your body in its presence. Kylo is a large man, large in every sense of the word as he has to pin your hips down against the pillow, skin smacking harshly against yours. Kylo is large, but the Force is a greater power, and the Force wants you almost as badly as Kylo does.

Not more, because nothing could want you more than Kylo, but almost.

It anchors itself around you, opens you up further for Kylo to take and give more pleasure, more more more of his power seeping into you. Your flesh breaks into goosebumps, limbs shuttering as you feel the tendrils of the Force wind around your neck, plunge down your throat, wisp around your wrists and tug at your ankles.

It is an unbreakable rope that slithers and snares its way into every possible crevice and orifice that your body possesses, thick cord that binds you, binds you to him, to Kylo.

“Holy shit – ” You gasp, sharp and high and loud.

Kylo has found the spot inside your cunt that makes you go blind with pleasure, and he milks it both with his cock, which throbs at the realization that you’ll come around him soon, and the Force, which somehow has the power to intensify the feeling, getting in and stimulating the very nerve ending in your pussy.

“Please Kylo, your cock is so big I can feel it up in my throat, please, please, fuck, I’m coming, yesyesyes– ” You sob for him, beg beg beg for him, and he is drenched in sweat at the praise, teeth gnashing and hair tossed wild as he brings you to orgasm once again.

You’re almost worried for a moment, that you’ve blacked out. It’s happened before, the sheer overwhelming power of your orgasm simply too much for you to handle sometimes, too overwhelming that your brain doesn’t know how to respond to all the pleasure. Your entire body is convulsing, and suddenly, it’s as if a switch as been flipped.

Kylo’s hips drop to a slow grind, a screeching halt of the bruising smacking rough rhythm he had immediately set out with. You’re not sure which drives you over the edge further, the brutal fucking or this, this measured, restrained, even flow. It is almost methodical, almost too perfectly even, and it makes you sob.

You are wordless, fucked dumb by your Supreme Leader’s cock.

You don’t know how long this lasts, how long your orgasm rips through you. The Force keeps it strong, keeps it bright white hot behind your eyelids. Hands are all over you, and you’re not sure which are your husbands and which belong to the universe. Every part of your body is massaged, squeezed, groped, claimed.

Your voice is so high as you shout it out, you have to let it out somehow, or you’re sure you’ll die. Kylo milks it for all it’s worth, forces himself to maintain this slow and steady pace, to both of you practically snarling into each other’s mouths simply because you’re both so far gone.

When he finally comes, the alarms blare.

His release is so strong that it shatters the shields of his ship as it hurtles through time and space, hurtles toward a future of grand opulence and power – a future you will build together. The shields shatter, and the alarm blares, and Kylo looks down at you with a strange mix of fear and bewilderment and pure awe. He’s coming, still coming inside you, his eyes wide open from the shock of just how good it feels.

He gives you this look every time, and every time it fills your entire being with pride, fills you with a warm satisfaction that you can give him this, that you can allow him to feel this way.

He gives you this look every time, as if it’s the first time, as if it’s the only time he’ll ever have; but with this – the power the fleet the force – you know it won’t be, it’s just the beginning.

The beginning of something incredible, something unstoppable. You know this.

You know because unlike the feeling of your hips settling under his as he grinds his pulsing cock into you deeper deeper deeper, something in him is new. Something in him is fresh, is so shocking that the realization hits you both at the same time and has you both splitting into grins so wide it stretches the pearly white skin of his scar.

You know because when he presses his forehead against yours and lets the Force bond open up, lets his mind flow into yours, for the very first time inside his head, the only voice he hears, the only whispers which curl around his skull,

Are yours.  

                                                 ---------------------------

Taggin pals :) If anyone would like to be added to or taken off the list, please let me know!

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[waywarddaughterwrites]

Burnished

A/N: So, here’s the smaller one-shot I mentioned earlier today. I’ve had this thought for a while and I’ve contemplated turning it into a longer fic. We will see if that comes to anything. For now, here we go! I hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know if you’d actually be interested in a longer story! It harkens waaaay back to season 8, but ultimately it takes place in the present.

Read Me on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289354

Everything Tag List:

@kissofthebadwolf @eurusholmmes @ourloveisforthelovely @pensysto

************************************

You’d never hunted a hellhound before. Sam and Dean had called you in for backup. Apparently they’d tracked one to your town. They wouldn’t tell you why they were hunting a creature of the damned, but the way they spoke about it and the determined yet somber set to their jaws when you met up with them in person said a lot. You’d hunted with them a time or two, mainly when they were in your neck of the woods, as they were now. Hunting with the brothers was both thrilling and completely exhausting. They attracted trouble like magnets and the simplest hunts were often anything but in-and-out. Things were rarely what they seemed with them and complications seemed to snowball. They were reliable, though, and incredibly skilled at their profession. The three of you had grown close over the years. They’d offered for you to come live in the bunker with them in Kansas, but you preferred your small apartment and hunting solo.

The hellhound hunt was unlike anything you’d imagined or expected it to be. Ignoring your protests they’d taken your glasses straight off of your face and—of all things—set fire to them. As Dean held them in the flames, Sam explained to you the correlation between holy fire and the ability to see ethereal creatures that were invisible to the naked human eye. You watched them burnish two pairs of glasses for themselves as well.

Sam was the one to kill the beast. It had almost come to blows between the brothers about who would be the one to do the deed. You didn’t understand why it was such an important decision, but you’d learned over the years not to question too much into what the Winchester brothers were caught up in, lest you get dragged into their world of nightmares and apocalypses. You enjoyed being a simple hunter. Werewolves and Vampires and Ghosts were your bread and butter. You would leave all of the outlandish, overwhelming demons and angels drama to the two brothers you were working with.

Speaking of, you’d gotten a hell of a shock not long after the hunt when you’d run into the boys again a year later and they’d had their angelic third wheel tagging along. Past the occasional fae flitting by, you’d forgotten over time about the special nature of your glasses and when they’d showed up on your doorstep with a man with gigantic, ash-colored wings protruding from his shoulder blades you’d nearly had a heart attack. Castiel had turned out to be a loyal friend and enjoyable to be around. You quite liked the angel.

You bought a new pair of glasses, though.

A pair of glasses that apparently had grown legs and wandered off somewhere. You were turning your apartment inside-out trying to find the glasses you’d managed to successfully lose. The boys would be here soon and you couldn’t afford not to see properly. Where the hell were they? While digging through the drawer in your nightstand, you happened across the case holding the old pair you’d replaced. It had been a few years since the hellhound hunt. Does holy fire wear off? Probably not.

bzzz

Looking at your phone, you read:

Dean W.: ETA in 30. U ready?

You glanced at the case in your hands before typing out a message back to him.

Just about. Any angels with u?

Dean’s reply was almost instant. Sam must be the one driving.

Dean W.: 2 actually. Y?

You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate.

Can’t find my good glasses. Only got the burnished ones from the hellhound thing a few years ago. Just wanna know what to prepare for.

You pocketed your phone before shoving the last couple of items in your duffle. You used the last few minutes before their arrival to put your apartment back into some semblance of order, hoping desperately that the act would somehow turn up the glasses you’d missed while tearing the room apart. No such luck, and soon the boys were knocking on your front door. You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself for a weekend with not one but two angels. Castiel’s wings were a beautiful thing to behold once you’d gotten used to their presence, but that was years ago and you knew you’d have to adjust to seeing them again. Not to mention the new angel’s wings you’d be subjected to.

You followed Sam out of your building and toward the familiar Impala sitting in the lot. Dean and his two companions started to exit the car to greet you as you approached. You ran straight to Dean and threw your arms around him the same as you’d just done to Sam. Those two had found a special place in your heart over the years. You heard two more car doors open and you steeled yourself before turning around to greet Castiel and the other angel, whom Sam had informed you was named Gabriel.

The sight before you knocked the breath out of your lungs. Castiel had explained all of those years ago why seeing his wings affected you so much: they weren’t meant for human sight beyond special circumstances. They could be a bit overwhelming. Angels on earth kept their wings tucked into a separate plane of existence, invisible and intangible to humanity. His wings had an almost holographic quality to them. You could see them with your glasses, but if you reached out to brush the feathers, your fingers went right through them. You supposed it made sense. Being invisible wasn’t much help if they were still bumping into things and getting in the way on this plane. They were as beautiful as you remembered and you let out a shakey breath as you took them in. Dean must have forewarned him of your predicament, because your friend was giving you an apologetic smile as he watched you. When you’d gotten your breathing under control, he held his arms out to you. You grinned at him and hugged him tightly. There was a comforting quality about the trench coat-clad man that you’d missed. Your eyes kept darting back to his wings over his shoulder. You didn’t know how Dean did it, seeing them every day.

“You get used to it” he had said the first time you’d seen them. He told you of the first time he’d seen them, in the barn with the lights going haywire as Castiel made his grand-dramatic entrance into the man’s life. “They’ve never been intimidating to me. They’re grandiose but they’re an extension of Cas and they’re more comforting than awe-inspiring or threatening, I guess.” You supposed it made sense. It wouldn’t do much good for an angel’s soul-mate to be constantly terrified of them.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You started to turn, but the owner held you in place with surprising strength. A voice you didn’t recognize, but sounded like warm honey, started speaking. You could tell the other angel was feeling awkward with the situation.

“Uh, So. Before you turn around, I should warn you. Cassie here is a regular old angel, so his wings are kinda normal.” Gabriel ignored his younger brother’s indignant huff at his words. You saw his feathers ruffle as if to prove they’re anything but average. Gabriel continued on, “I’m actually an archangel. So, uh...my wings...aren’t. Normal, that is. They’re a bit...more?” You couldn’t turn around but you could practically see him scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. “I just...I...don’t be scared of me, please. I don’t think a human has ever seen my wings before.”

You nodded your assent and you felt the grip on your shoulder release. You took in a breath and slowly turned to see the other man, taller than you but shorter than Castiel, golden hair and eyes like sunshine through whiskey. You were right about his hand on his neck, and he regarded you cautiously, waiting for your reaction. You let your eyes drift upward to his—

“Holy shit.”

Six. There were six. And they were massive. He was trying to tuck them into himself, obviously shy. It didn’t do much to decrease their presence, though. They looked like spun gold. They glittered as though made of metal and the sun reflecting off of each feather gave them the illusion of emitting light themselves. The closer you looked, you saw hints of amber and tawny and a couple of colors you didn’t have words for. They were...warm. Each wing had to be at least ten feet long and six feet tall. They radiated heat. You knew you were gaping like a fish and you concentrated to bring yourself back into focus. You realized with embarrassment that you’d started unconsciously reaching your hand upward toward them, as if to touch them. Gabriel was watching your face and your hand cautiously, obviously relieved that you weren’t running screaming for the hills. Interestingly, you weren’t frightened of his wings at all, even with them being so much more than Castiel’s.

You brought your eyes down to meet his. His eyebrows raised in silent question and you beamed at him. You saw some of the tension lift from his shoulders as you smiled.

“Gabriel, your wings are incredible. I apologize for causing you discomfort, but I am truly honored to be able to see them, because...wow,” you finished rather lamely. Gabriel blushed and grinned at your praise. You couldn’t stop the thought of how endearing the blush made him look, more like a schoolboy than an almighty, ancient being.

“Well let me borrow those glasses I wanna see these ‘incredible’ wings!” Dean blurted out to your left, reaching toward you.

“Dean, don’t!” Sam protested.

“Dean-o you might want to rethink that—“

“Aw, come on, I see Castiel’s all the time, I can handle your wings.” Dean stopped beside you, hand held out expectantly. You looked toward Gabriel. It was his decision. Gabriel rolled his eyes in exasperation before nodding at you. He winked and it made your heart stutter a bit. Wings or not, he was an attractive man and charming to boot.

Sighing, you took off your glasses and handed them to Dean, who was grinning triumphantly. You watched him put on the glasses and suddenly the color ran out of his face as he blanched.

“Dean? Dean, breathe!” Castiel reprimanded his mate, reaching forward and putting his hands on his shoulders. Dean took in a shuddering breath and struggled to regain his composure, reaching up with a shaking hand and pulling the glasses off of his face.

“Y-yeah. Those are...real nice, Gabriel. Nice-good. Good wings.”

You were perplexed as you watched Dean. He started to hand the glasses back to you, but Sam’s hand intercepted them. He looked questioningly at Gabriel, obviously seeking permission to sate his own curiosity. You heard him sigh dramatically.

“Oh, go ahead Samsquatch.” He mumbled something about monkeys at a zoo before Sam put on the glasses, too. To his credit, having not seen angel wings at all before, he held his composure rather well. He was seeing not only Gabriel’s, but Castiel’s wings for the first time and you could see the muscle twitching in his now-pale face as he clenched his jaw, attempting to take them both in. Like his brother, he seemed to have stopped breathing for a moment.

“Wow,” He squeaked out in a much-too-high voice. “You both...yeah. Wings. Nice.”

What on earth? Sure, your first time seeing wings ever had been overwhelming, but it was like they both were having trouble even looking at Gabriel’s wings. You couldn’t stop admiring them, yourself. They were mammoth, but easily the most gorgeous things you’d ever seen. You glanced at Gabriel’s face. His arm had found the back of his neck again, but he looked more amused than uncomfortable. You noticed he kept sneaking glances at you and when he caught your eye he winked again and rolled his eyes in the direction of the boys. You noticed he wasn’t bothering to try and pull his wings inward anymore, either. He had them stretching out above him as if showing them off. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d done that just to mess with the boys. Your eyes swept from one end of his wingspan to the other end before landing back on his face. You met his eyes, which were transfixed on you, an unreadable expression on his face. His mouth had dropped open slightly and his eyes seemed to be burning into you, their look was so intense. You cinched your brow at him, confused at this sudden change in him. You felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned away to take what Sam was offering out to you.

Your glasses.

Oh My Chuck.

Your head snapped back to the angel in front of you as you slowly put your glasses back on, his intense expression coming into clearer focus.

You suddenly became aware of the silence as your three other companions watched you and Gabriel.

“Uh...everything okay?” Dean asked, concerned at the silent exchange happening between you and the archangel. You floundered for a moment, your mouth opening and closing, trying to find words, but you were having trouble making sound. You and Gabriel hadn’t broken eye contact and the corner of Gabriel’s mouth twitched upward as he responded for you.

“Boys...things just got a lot more interesting.”

[jasontoddiefor]

I wish you would write a fic where Katsuki Bakugō meets Rin Okumura and they become bros and stuff :D

Title: Classroom BoredomFandom: Blue Exorcist x Boku no Hero AcademiaSummary: Somehow Katsuki expected more from a class just for those kin with demons. At least his seat neighbor was all right for an overly chatty wanna be knight.AN: AAAnd now completely done. Considering I was aiing for 500 wors originally and this is now three imes as long… this is set a few decades in the future of AnE! Also, here “Kin” means related to a Demon King. This doesn’t mean the Demon King himself necessarily but can also refer to demons associated with said Demon King.Katsuki Bakugou, 15 years old, kin of Ilbis, Exorcist in training and utterly bored. When he had signed up for the advanced exorcism class instead of just the mandatory one, fully set on actually working in the True Cross Order, he had expected glorious battles - not boring lessons.

All the hope he had put on the classes for those who were kin with demons had been shattered within a day too. School was boring. It was so much mindless studying and recitation and remembering- the kind of things Deku was interested in but never Katsuki.

As Miwa sensei lectured, one by one everyone fell asleep. Even Deku was distracting himself by growing some weird ass plants on his arm. When he was doing things like that, it was hard to imagine that somewhere blood of the crazy and weird as hell Earth King was running through the teenager’s veins. Well, not that he was the only one, Satou and Mineta were related to the Earth King as well, but Deku was the only one who used his powers so weirdly. Perhaps he was the only one who could use his powers like that. Rumors had gone up that Deku was actually related to Amaimon, though Katsuki had yet to see prove.

Sighing he dropped his head on his desk. This class was so boring.

“Pssssht!”

Katsuki turned to his left. His seat neighbor, Egan- something he couldn’t recall, waved at him while smiling the probably biggest smile Katsuki had ever seen.

What the fuck.

“You’re bored too?” Egan asked.

For a moment Katsuki considered ignoring him, but finally decided against it.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome! Well- not really, but yeah. Mako- Miwa-sensei is a real bore, right?”

Katsuki could only nod. “The only really interesting lessons are Aizawa and Toshinori’s.”

At that Egan nodded. “Yes! Aizawa has some awesome Tamer stuff going on. His Nebari summons are hella creepy though. Toshinori’s Aria lessons are fun too! Do you have demon pharmaceutics? Yukio’s classes can be boring but you should-”

“EGIN!” Miwa interrupted. “Don’t interrupt class!”

“Yes, sir!” Egan- Egin shouted, waking everyone up who was asleep.

What a weirdo.He was bearable though.

The next weeks continued in similar matter. Whenever Katsuki was about to dose off, Egin would start a conversation until the teacher called them out. Sometimes they only talked for a few minutes, on other days for the whole lesson. And somehow, whenever Katsuki wasn’t bothered by Kaminari and Kirishima, Egin would hang out with him or worse: drag him to the rest of his classmates and have him socialize with them. Katsuki didn’t even know how Egin managed it. One moment the blonde was alone, the next he was sitting in a circle with the rest of the demon kin teenagers.At least he got some more information on Egin, who was weirdly blank. Yukio Egin, the pharmaceutics teacher, was apparently his older brother by ten years or so and Egin wanted to gain the Meister Knight and Aria. Egin was also shit at any recitations so the Aria Meister didn’t make a lot of sense to Katsuki until he heard the other teenager sing a whole lot of Latin bible phrases and prayers and what not. He honestly hadn’t expected that from a guy that sucked at remembering something as much as Egin.

The thing that interested Katsuki the most though, was who Egin was kin with. He had to be kin with some Demon King, otherwise he wouldn’t be in the same class as Katsuki.The summons Egin made weren’t really helpful solving that riddle either. Usually one stuck to their own kin and maybe another one that fit. But Egin apparently was the prime example for “screw the rules” as he summoned demons of all kinds and classes, often earning disapproving glances from Aizawa. But about that Egin didn’t seem to care too much. In general, even though he was in the top five, Egin seemed so give zero fucks about school. It was odd since he was such a straightforward and determined guy.

“Katsuki!” Egin called and waved at him. “Class is about to start!”

“I’m coming, idiot,” Katsuki said and dragged himself towards the gym.

Inside Egin had already managed to get into a heated argument with Kaminari on how good Egin actually was at summoning. It was starting to look a bit like a small or, hell, maybe even big disaster as Egin ran over to the only blackboard in the gym, a piece of chalk in hand. He erased the previously instructions on how to properly evade a demon to make place.

“I’ll show you then!” Egin declared and began to sketch a circle Katsuki wasn’t even sure of to what element it belonged.

“Bane of ancient times, here my call, by the blood of my kin, come forth!”

Not that he’d ever admit it, but what happened next scared him just a bit. One moment Egin appeared happy and successful, the next he was plucked from the ground and in that beast’s mouth. His classmates started screaming, terror slowly crawled inside the previously peaceful classroom. So this was actual combat.

No wonder they were still going to school.

Egin’s demon was terrifying. About five meters tall with at least a hundred yellow snake like eyes. Its mouth made up at least half of its body in total, the rest being a weird chimera like mix. The knowledge he had acquired in school so far couldn’t help him determine what this thing was. It radiated warmth, had spider legs, red scales, messy dark fur- it was a living nightmare. One that was about to kill Egin.Whatever courage Katsuki could muster up, he poured into his next action. He made his way towards the beast, fire already biting at his palms. No matter what this thing was, surely it would hurt it if Katsuki burned his eyes?He was nearly there when Asui hold him back.

“What the-“

“Your fire won’t help,” she informed him. “I can feel it. That thing is fire.”

“How would you know?!” Katsuki shouted. “That thing will kill Egin!”

“I’m kin with Egyn,” she told him, appearing rather unbothered by his temper. “And so far it hasn’t done much. It looks like it’s waiting for an attack.”

The worst was that Asui had a point. Recklessly and mindlessly storming into battle, wasn’t that something Egin had also told him to get under control. Katsuki turned to look at the demon again. It definitely was waiting for something as it made no move. It didn’t even try to devour Egin.

“What are we supposed to do then?” He asked.

“Iida’s run for a teacher and the rest,” she pointed to the other students, „are working on a strategy. Just because you have the fastest reaction, doesn’t mean the rest of us won’t do anything.”

“Fine,” Katsuki bit out just the moment the demon suddenly screamed.

Everyone jumped with fright, expecting the beast to suddenly lose control and go ahead and attack them. For one moment, nobody reacted. It felt as if everyone even stopped breathing, completely frozen.

“That’s enough.”

From behind the students, at the gym’s entrance, Egin’s older brother stood. Instead of looking panicked or even just worried, he appeared annoyed.

“Nii-san, stop with the act. You’ve had your fun. Now stop before the class seriously hurts themselves.”

“Spoilsport!” Egin’s voice rang through the building.

Katsuki couldn’t quite believe his eyes. The demon carefully dropped the completely uninjured Egin to the ground.

“You’re always ruining my classes. And do I have to remind you that your exam nearly got me killed?” Egin huffed as if moments before he hadn’t been dying.

“I didn’t even come up with your Exwire exam! It’s been decades! You can’t still be holding that against me, Rin!”

“I can and I will. Now-“

“What the fuck is going on?!” Katsuki expressed what all the other teenagers were asking themselves. Why was Egin alive and well and complaining about his brother ruining his classes.

“I’d like to know that as well,” Todoroki added while a bunch of their classmates nodded.

“This, my dear students, was your exam!” Egin exclaimed cheerily. “Allow me that I reintroduce myself. Okumura Rin, Honorable Knight and a bunch o other titles making me the glorified babysitter of my siblings, at your service. I’m your actual teacher, not Mako-kun. He was just my step in so I could observe whether you’d be worth my time.”

“Liar,” Egin- Okumura’s older brother said. “You would have taken the class regardless of what impression they make on you as long as it gets you away from your paperwork.”

“Shut it, Yukio. Not everyone can do paperwork for nearly a century and not go mad. You’re weird like that. Anyway, Ashido, you have to be careful with your summons. I’d stick to weaker once for now in stressful situations. Todoroki, just because you have a bit more power than the rest doesn’t mean you can-“

And Egin- Okumura latched into criticizing and/or praising how they all reacted and behaved just like a freaking teacher. Somehow Katsuki still couldn’t fathom what the fuck was going on but apparently that was alright because neither could his classmates.

AN: Basically (semi) immortal Okumura twins teaching Cram school and hiding their identities because have you tried going anywhere when everyone knows your name?

[kingsglaiives-blog]

listen no one’s gonna even see this post bUT i love this story i did my best to type it all out

woman's voice: "—no end but it's own perfection." Plato, as quoted in the citizen's manual, third edition. man's voice: The punishment fits the crime. [Sound of jury's gavel.] [Sound of man screaming/anguished cries.] [Fades out.] [Sounds of a clock ticking.] Main Character: The tribunal's words play over and over in my head. There are no other sounds that can drown them out. I've been stuck in this tiny apartment for months. No more job, no more personal accountability meetings. Just the rattle of the radiator and the ticking of a clock that I can't even see. "The punishment fits the crime." And so the burned out my eyes. And no matter how bad it gets, I can't even cry about it. The procedure fused my tear ducts. I need to get out of this room. I need to get out of this city. I  refuse to wait until I wither away. They've taken almost everything from me. But I still have control over one thing. When, and how, it ends. [Sound of him standing up, and then walking.] But first, I need to leave my room. I'm standing in front of the door, but I still need to find the door knob. [The player has to tap the screen to figure out where the door knob is. MC says "nope" & "not there" when the wrong place is tapped.] [Once the correct place is tapped.] Got it. [He continues speaking, and you can hear the door opening.] I never thought I'd see the day where opening a door constitued a major victory. [You can hear him continue walking.] Not for someone who's the lead architect on the new government complex, which included the court house where they sentenced me. It hardly felt like mine. Could've been beautiful, and monumental. The commision rejected every good idea I had. [He stops walking.] And here's the outer door. [Once again, you have to find the door knob.] [Once the knob is found, you hear the door swing open and he continues walking.] It's a short walk to perimeter of our precinct. Beyond that is the old city. Nothing but decaying buildings and the rusted bones of ancient cars. I just hope no one is following me. The tribunal never figured out how I got out of the precinct in the first place. They offered to let me keep one eye if I told them. I lied and said I found the forbidden art under a board in my apartment. They didn't believe me, so they took both eyes. The way under the wall is right here. I just have to lift up the access hatch to the old subway system and climb down. [Find the hatch and swipe up to lift it up. You hear metal creaking(?) as it's lifted up.] It was because of some stupid movie posters. I've never even seen a movie, or read a novel, or heard a song. But I loved those posters. I could sit for hours just imagining the story each one might have represented. I never would have gone out there, I never would have found the posters, if it hadn't been for her. And they took her away. . . And it was just her they killed that morning. They also killed me, the person I was when we were together. The secret language that we created, that any two people create when they're so close, i-it was orphaned, left with only a single native speaker. And the empty shell they left behind. . . No longer cared about the risk of sneaking into the old city, where we always talked about going together. [He's been walking the entire time.] I must be under where the wall is now. They make a show of guarding it, but no one really cares. Most people are too busy with their jobs to try to get out. Besides, they've all been told the stuff out there is what destroyed the old world. And as far as I can tell, they're right, it did. I'm not sure I care anymore. [You can hear water dripping. His footsteps stop.] The tunnel that leads out is on the other side of the empty station. I used to have a flashlight, but that wouldn't do too much good for me now. There's a pipe that's always leaking right above it. I guess I'll just have to walk towards the dripping sound. [Tap + hold where you hear the sound coming from, and you can hear him walking again. Once you reach the pipe, you hear a small thud. And, of course, the water sound is louder.] Okay, here's the pipe. The restrictions never made sense to me. The stuff that got people addicted and caused everything to fall apart was full-scale virtual worlds. I didn't see how the old books and pictures you find out here could cause any harm. I still showed up at work every day. Everything was fine until left the posters out and the landlord stopped by. [You can hear rushing water, getting louder and louder.] I'd been bugging him to fix the heat for six months and that had to be the day he finally showed up. There's water here. I can feel the tunnel's current. This old subway tunnel seems to have a river running down it.  There's some kind of boat here, too. Might as well use it, though I'd have no idea where I'd be going. Maybe it'll be like the viking funerals I read about in the Encyclopedia volume I found. I covered the letters "u" and "v".(?) Now I just need to push off from the shore. [You swipe the screen to push away.] I can't really steer or paddle. Anyway. I'm exhausted. I'll just lie here and float down the tunnel. Drowning isn't the best way to go, but at least I'll be fine  if there's no chance of getting taken back to the precinct. [The sounds fade out. The next moment there's a rush of sound, with the assumption that the boat stopped against a shore.] I must have fallen asleep. How long was I out? I guess this is where my little boat ride ends. [Music begins playing quietly. MC stays silent for a moment, before talking again.] What is that noise? There must be someone down here. Apparently, it's not just us. What if there were other survivors outside of our part of the city? [The music slowly gets louder. You hear him walking.] It's coming through the air vents. I can hear it a little more clearly. It reminds me of the first time I saw those movie posters. It was like an entire world unfolding in front of me. This is what they've taken away from us. This is what they thought would destroy us. [He stops walking. The music continues, changing notes and rhythm.] It's coming from across this open room. I'll have to walk in the direction of the sound to get to it. [Player taps and holds in direction of sound. Music gets louder.] I think it's just beyond this door. I've no idea what kind of people are making this.. sound,  music. It might be dangerous. It might be a trap. But I already know I'm going in there. I've been waiting my whole life for a moment like this.  I don't care if it's my last. I just wish she was with me to hear this. Here we go. [He opens the door.] [The music is at it's loudest. The game is over.]